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CHAPTER SIX
DOMINIC
Gio hadn’t mentioned any plans to be at Espo 2 at six a.m., yet there he was, hauling filing cabinets into the office I’d finally, reluctantly, cleared out.
“Morning,” he said cheerfully as he positioned a gunmetal-gray three-drawer cabinet onto a dolly. With a little grunt of exertion, he started wheeling it down the hallway that led to the office.
“I was going to do that,” I called, rubbing my eyes. Last night I’d stuck around here until after two a.m., touching up some bare spots the painters had missed when they were here the other day. It would have made more sense to wait because once all the dining furniture was carried in, there would surely be more touch-ups in order. Yet every night when a reasonable quitting time rolled around, I always found something else to do that kept me here later. And then I always returned far too early. Even Gio didn’t know how many hours I’d been putting in. He would have felt like he needed to be here with me, and I couldn’t let him do that. I was the one who was hell-bent on reinventing something that I felt partially responsible for losing.
Besides, Gio had something important to go home to every night. I didn’t. Not a day went by without me thinking of my grandfather. He’d died alone in the dark because I’d been a self-centered little shit. There was no way to make that up to him now, but I damn well could work until my muscles were numb in order to protect my brother.
While Gio was in the back fiddling with the filing cabinet, I gulped the cup of gas station coffee in my hand. I should have bought three more. My eyes still felt like they’d recently been scrubbed with sandpaper.
Gio was whistling when he wheeled the dolly back out.
“I was just waiting for the paint to dry,” I explained. “I was planning on getting everything squared away first thing today.”
He shrugged. “It’s all good. Just figured I’d come down here and give you a break.”
Yesterday all the office furniture and equipment had been delivered. I’d been planning on moving the filing cabinets and boxes myself this morning, before Melanie showed up to claim her rightful place. Last night I’d stopped in at Espo 1 before the dinner rush and found her in the cramped back office, counting out the cash for the daily bank deposit. When I cleared my throat, she fastened her huge blue eyes on me, and I felt something stir below my belt.
I told her she could report to Espo 2 in the morning, and her gorgeous face broke into a brilliant grin as she jumped out of her chair. I was half-afraid she’d run over and hug me or something, so I bent down to pick up some of the boxes of paperwork that had already been packed up, and made a quick exit.
At any rate, I was determined to treat Melanie just like I would treat any employee, despite the fact that I was drawn to her. But that wasn’t the only obstacle where she was concerned. I also needed to relax my grip a little and entrust important tasks to someone other than Gio. Ultimately the ball was in my court to man up, let Melanie do her job, and quit checking out her ass.
“Getting closer,” my brother said, taking a shrewd look around. “Told you the timeline would be fine, Dom.”
“There’s always more work waiting,” I warned, thinking about all the things that could interfere with a successful restaurant opening. I ran a hand over my chin, suddenly realizing I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shaved. Unwanted beards were known to bust out of my face after a mere three days of missed shaves.
Gio was watching me. “I know how much time you’ve been putting in, man.”
“Nah, not that much.”
“Bullshit. You’re here practically around the clock, even though you don’t like to admit it. You ought to let me pitch in more.”
“You do plenty, Gio.”
“I could do more.”
I didn’t really like the idea of Gio hanging around here day and night while his wife and baby needed him. “No. You have a family to go home to.”
“What about you?”
“I have Espo 2.”
“Impossible.” Gio shook his head with a grin. “You are a stubborn bastard, you know that?”
“I’ve heard those words a time or two.”
Gio snapped his fingers. “Let’s leave the furniture-moving for later. I’m taking you out to breakfast.”
At his insistence I agreed to take an hour off. Dawn was just breaking, and the only restaurant open at this time was a greasy twenty-four-hour diner a few blocks away. The interior smelled like blackened lard. Gio didn’t want to take a chance on anything more exotic than toast and coffee, but I ordered a ham and cheese omelet.
“Living dangerously, huh?” Gio joked as I poured hot sauce on my omelet.
“No point in living if you don’t.”
“Might not be a very long life if you do,” he replied.
