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I watched discreetly as the old woman beamed at her two grandsons. I liked seeing Dominic with his family. It exposed a whole other side of him, a softer side that was separate from the stern, driven boss.
Dominic’s head snapped up, almost as if he’d heard me thinking about him. He caught my eye, and I had to suppress a shiver of desire. He didn’t look away. I would have paid a fairly large sum of money to know what was going through his head as he stared at me.
It was Gio who waved me over, though. “Melanie. Come over here.”
Dominic continued to watch silently as I approached. He gently draped a protective arm across his grandmother’s frail shoulders and finally nodded in my direction when I was two feet away.
“Donna,” Dominic said in a polite voice, “this is Melanie Cruz, our assistant manager, bookkeeper, and all around indispensable asset. Melanie, this is my grandmother, Donna Esposito.”
Donna’s eyes focused on me and instantly lit up. “Oh, so this is her,” she said excitedly.
Gio was confused. “Who?”
“The girl,” Donna said as if everyone ought to know exactly what she meant. She extended a small, paper-thin hand. “You’re so pretty. Dominic didn’t tell me that, but he didn’t have to. I could tell from the way he talked about you that you were pretty.”
Dominic made a noise that could have been a cough or a laugh. I couldn’t tell which. I was curious as to why he would discuss me with his grandmother.
As I shook her hand, I noted that her grip was stronger than one would think. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs.Esposito.”
“You have to call me Donna,” she said. “The boys even call me Donna because when they came to live with us so many years ago, little Giovanni couldn’t say Grandma.”
“I still can’t,” Gio deadpanned, and his grandmother laughed at him before turning her attention back to me.
“So you will call me Donna, too,” she insisted. “Because you’re family, Melanie.”
Dominic cleared his throat loudly. “Think it’s time for the tour,” he said, shepherding his grandmother away.
Gio shot me an apologetic look. “She gets confused sometimes,” he explained.
I nodded. “Sure, I understand.”
Tara arrived a minute later, minus the baby, who was with Tara’s mom, who’d volunteered to watch the baby so Tara could enjoy an evening out. She gave me a hug.
“Hey, baby,” said Gio as he approached with a brilliant smile.
“Hello, hot stuff,” she answered playfully.
When Tara leaned toward her husband to accept a long, tender kiss, I took a step back, admiring the simple perfection of a couple in love. I even felt a small prick of envy, although I hated myself a little for it.
Gio called the staff on the floor for a final, two-minute pep talk. I felt a few butterflies as I watched a crowd start to gather at the door. This was the first time in a long while I’d really felt like I truly played an important role in something special. It was almost like being included in a real family.
Almost.
We hadn’t been sure how many people to expect, but after an hour it became clear that we’d have our hands full. I quickly lost track of time as I divided my efforts between taking orders and serving food. At least there were no register transactions to worry about since tonight, everything was on the house.
There was a steady line of Esposito’s friends and family on a quest for free food. All the running around I was doing made me grateful for the tennis shoes on my feet as opposed to toe-crushing heels. Enthusiasm for the food was universal, and many patrons paused on their way out the door with a promise that they would return for the official opening. I was in the middle of refilling some napkin holders when the reporter from the SunRepublic arrived. Gio pulled me aside and asked me to keep her busy until he managed to free up a few minutes.
The reporter introduced herself as Becky Baller, and apparently she wasn’t kidding about her name. As soon as a booth opened up, I seated her and whispered to Aimee that she needed to expedite Becky Baller’s order of avocado and pineapple pizza.
“How long have you worked for the Esposito family?” the reporter asked as she daintily unfolded a white napkin in her lap.
“Only about a month,” I answered. “It’s been a very exciting time, though.”
Becky took a shrewd look around the busy restaurant and then turned her attention back to me. Her eyes were odd, amber colored. In fact they seemed vaguely reptilian, and I had the uncomfortable feeling she was combing my every move to uncover secrets I did not know I’d been keeping. Maybe journalism schools taught mind-probe tactics. Or maybe I was just paranoid.
She suddenly smiled, blinding white teeth flashing between puce-painted lips. She leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s kind of a riches to rags back to riches story, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. Dominic had never mentioned rags as part of his life story.
