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“Natalia,” I rasped, fully aware of the sound of my voice but a hundred percent unable to do anything about it, “you know damn well what I feel for you is not hate.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
NATALIA
“Since when do you go on Instagram?”
I flinched at my sister’s voice, and my phone tumbled to the floor. Had she developed ninja sneaking skills, or was I just that distracted by what I was looking at?
I inwardly groaned as I crouched to pick it up from behind my bar. “Please don’t be broken.” I didn’t need another unnecessary expense.
Relieved to see no damage to the screen, I shot my sister an exasperated look.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you,” Maria said while pouring two glasses of Bellini Chianti.
You couldn’t go for the house red? I didn’t want her to know about my money problems, so I accepted the wine and quickly took a sip to hide the frown I felt pulling at my lips.
“Why are you here? I thought Thomas was coming home tonight.” It was close to nine on a Thursday night, and the kitchen rush was over. Our usual clients were younger families, so the place became a ghost town after eight during the week, prompting us to shut down around ten thirty or whenever the last guests chose to leave.
My bartender strode over and wiped down the counter. “Take a load off. Sit.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Maria rounded the counter and slid onto one of the high-back chairs.
Christian winked at her, and I elbowed him, reminding him my sister was married. He was a flirt, and I was fairly certain he was the reason for the large crowd of single women at happy hour on weekdays. The fact he also looked like a young Patrick Swayze from his Road House years probably had something to do with it, too.
I couldn’t complain. I needed the business.
“You should keep the celebration going all week.” Christian poked me back, needling me in the ribs with his index finger. “A restaurant surviving its first year is a big deal.” He pointed to the wall of wine behind us. “You should have gone for the top-shelf stuff.”
I lifted the glass and gave the liquid a little swirl. “Trust me, this is good.” I finally rounded the counter to sit by my sister and waved him off for some privacy, knowing if Maria left her Uptown home to come down here, it was for a reason.
“Fine.” Christian smiled and tipped his head toward our only other patrons at the bar. “Be over there if you need me.”
“So, what’s going on?” I asked once we were alone.
Maria snatched my phone from the counter and held it between us. “First, I need to see who you were spying on.” She held the phone in front of my face to unlock it, then opened the Instagram app. “Well, I’m disappointed. I was hoping it was some new guy you were secretly DM’ing.” She shot me a dirty look over her shoulder. “Why were you looking at Calista’s page?”
About that. “I know you’re not her greatest fan, but she’s nice.” And thirty-one. Single. A hot model. And lives only fifteen minutes away. Basically, perfect for Ryan.
“She’s fake nice. There’s a difference.” She began swiping through some of her photos, most of Calista in a bikini in places I’d only ever dream of visiting.
“Calista’s coming in soon to meet Ryan Rossi. I’m the one playing matchmaker this time instead of Mom,” I spilled the truth. Partial truth. I couldn’t tell her Ryan’s motives for the date.
“Wait, what?” Maria let go of the phone and faced me. I flinched again as it hit the bar top. “You’re going to need to share more deets on how that happened. And I thought you and Ryan hated each other.”
Maybe we don’t hate each other after all.
I thought back to Ryan’s last words to me on the ride home after he cut short my date with the doctor. You know damn well what I feel for you is not hate. I had no clue how to respond to that, and he didn’t seem eager to continue talking, so we endured an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way home.
I texted him to show up around nine thirty tonight, though, so he’d be there soon. A fact Enzo wasn’t happy about. When I’d shared the news Ryan was back in town with him on our ride into work, he’d pulled off the road to stare me down. Then he warned me not to trust Ryan, which was absurd since the two men had never actually met.
“Before I roll out the red carpet of information,” I began after taking a rather indulgent sip of wine, “I want you to tell me if you’re okay. Where’s Chiara? Thomas?”
“Thomas called a few hours ago and said he couldn’t make it home. He has to stay out of town longer.” She frowned. “I’m sick of being in that big house alone. Well, with Chiara, of course. So, I’m crashing at Mom and Dad’s tonight again. Chiara is already asleep there, so I thought I’d pop over here and bug you.”
“Look at us, sleeping in our old bedrooms now after we spent our childhoods anxious to become adults and move out,” I said with a small smile, unsure how to feel about this new Thomas situation. I hated how it was leading to my sister’s apparent unhappiness.
Maria downed the rest of her wine in one long swallow. “I’m worried Thomas won’t be home for that party we’re going to Sunday night, and I’ll be dateless.”
