AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No. His assistant already thinks I’m a flake because I lied last month when you decided to cancel at the last minute. I told her you had an urgent dental problem to take care of, and you were currently writhing around on the floor like a fish in agony. She let me know that Cal was already unhappy about scheduling this meeting on a Saturday morning, but something tells me he’ll be even more unhappy if you cancel.”
He shrugged indifferently. “I can’t go. I’ll be in the waiting room during Donna’s surgery.”
“You said it wasn’t until eleven. The meeting is at eight thirty and won’t last longer than an hour, so you’ll have plenty of time to make it to the hospital.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, and returned to the kitchen where he was most comfortable.
Something I’d already learned in the short time we’d been open is that the dinner crowd during the week started earlier here than it did at Espo 1. The calls for takeout orders started around four thirty, and by a quarter after five, there was a line of tired office workers waiting to pick up their food after a long workday. Not everyone came here to pick up and run, though. When Dominic left for the hospital at six, the dining room was already three-quarters full.
“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” he told me on his way out the door. I would have liked to give him a comforting hug, but he didn’t show any hint that he would welcome one. True, the dining room was full of customers, and the staff would have gaped, but according to Tara no one would have found it newsworthy if Dominic and I were seen embracing. Yet we hadn’t talked about it with each other. We hadn’t talked about anything important. Our plans were all vague. Someday we’ll do this, or sometime we’ll go there. That had to change at some point.
“So let me ask you something,” said a man who was scanning the menu board at the order counter.
“Shoot,” I said.
“Do those cannolis taste as good as they look?”
“Even better,” I promised.
He smiled. It was a nice smile, and he was nice looking. Clean cut, black suit, silk tie. Before I met Dominic, this guy would definitely have been someone I’d consider, particularly when he flashed that flirty grin. But the mercurial, devastatingly gorgeous Dominic Esposito might have already ruined me for all ordinary men.
And what’s more, I liked being ruined.
The man lingered for a few seconds after he placed his order, perhaps trying to figure out a way to extend the conversation. I gave him a friendly nod, nothing more, and moved on to the next customer.
When I’d been hired, it had been understood that my regular role wouldn’t involve serving, but I found that I actually liked helping out in the dining room during especially busy shifts. I’d never thought of myself as the service-oriented type, but there was something satisfying about carrying dinner over to a hungry family. At first I’d felt self-conscious, scanning everyone who walked in to make sure it wasn’t someone I knew, someone who had somehow heard what happened to my career and would gloat over the fact that I appeared to be taking pizza orders. But that hadn’t happened, and I learned to relax. Anyway, I was proud to work here, proud of the job I was doing.
I helped Patsy bring a large order over to a family of five. I’d seen them when they walked in and kept my eye on them, only because they radiated a special kind of light. Maybe it was because the couple and their three daughters were so good-looking, like a family in a commercial. Or maybe it was because of the way they laughed so loud and often in each other’s company. The man was tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos to the point where he could have seemed scary. But the good humor in his face wasn’t an act. The woman had to be his wife and the mother of the three girls. One of the girls looked just like her, with the same shiny, brown hair and clear, green eyes that fastened shrewdly on everything in sight. The brunette and a wistful-looking blonde seemed to be around sixteen, while the remaining girl, who shared features with both sisters, appeared to be on the cusp of adolescence.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” I asked, smiling as the girls attacked the food with delight.
“I think we’re fine,” answered the woman, and she smiled up at me. I noted the intimate way the man kept his heavily tattooed arm casually draped over the back of her chair. They wore matching gold wedding bands, although if I’d first laid eyes on them separately, I wouldn’t have guessed them as a couple. He had “bad boy” written all over him, and she seemed like a well-kept soccer mom. But they were obviously together and obviously in love, because the man grabbed a slice of pizza and set it on her plate before he took one for himself. It was a small gesture, but sometimes those small gestures spoke the loudest.
“Are you okay?” the youngest girl asked me, because I was just kind of hovering over them and breathing on their food.
The man and woman looked up at me with curiosity.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I was just wondering what your tattoo says.”
The woman glanced down at her left arm at the line of spidery script. It was her only visible ink, although her husband looked like he could have starred in some kind of tattoo reality show.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassed. “It’s none of my business, so please—”
“It’s all right,” the woman said softly as she looked down at the tattoo on her arm. She touched it with gentle fingertips. “I had this done many years ago.” She held her arm up. “Here, read it for yourself.”
I peered at the words. Amor vincit omnia.
My knowledge of Latin was virtually nonexistent, but I must have heard this particular quote before because I knew it instantly.
“Love conquers all,” I said, and the woman smiled.
“That’s right.” She nudged her husband. “Most important life lesson ever learned. Don’t you agree, Cord?”
The man grinned. “Seventeen happy years of marriage confirms it,” he said solemnly.
They looked into each other’s eyes, then the man picked up his wife’s hand and kissed it as if she were a princess in a fairy tale. It was a brief, sweet gesture. Nonetheless, their daughters gagged and turned away. I didn’t turn away. I stared in rapt fascination. This was what true love looked like. This was what my parents had before tragedy cut their journey short. This was what I saw in their faces every time I looked at that photograph in my living room. This was what I wanted. Maybe it was even possible that I’d already found it.
It was in bad taste to just stand there and stare, so I retreated. I did send the table a plate of complimentary cannoli, though.
