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“Dr. Ali!”
My head shoots up, and I find both Calvin and the woman staring at me in varying degrees of disgust. Am I not supposed to look at shoes? “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Calvin shakes his head as if I’m a lost cause. “My friend often spaces out. Don’t take it personally.”
The woman makes a growling noise. “I’ll try not to.” I can tell she isn’t happy. I can’t be banned from here. Not on my second visit.
“I’ll take one of everything again,” I blurt out in an effort to save the situation.
CHAPTER 6
LUCIA
Lucia
“He’s back!” Enzo comes bursting through the kitchen door. I jump, sending the spoon covered in sauce soaring through the air before hitting the floor.
“The hell!” I glance down at my apron, which is now covered in sauce. “Have you been drinking your own cocktails? You scared the crap out of me.”
“The food guy is back.” Enzo grabs the spoon I threw and hands it to one of our dishwashers. I think one of my favorite things about the restaurant so far is the staff. I wasn’t super popular in high school. Then in culinary school, it was cutthroat at times. Here everyone is chill except my own family. I finally feel like I fit in.
“The one you think is a critic?” No matter how hard they searched, they didn’t find anything about someone leaving a review. I’m not convinced they have this man pegged right. But I know it’s useless to try to convince them otherwise.
“Here.” Sara, my sous chef, hands me a clean spoon.
“Thanks.”
“Who else would I be talking about?” Enzo replies.
“The guy in the dark polo last night and the light jeans?” Reggie offers.
“Shaved head?”
“That’s the one.” Reggie snaps his fingers, a smirk on his lips. “Some can pull off the bald head, and others can’t.”
“Touché,” I agree. Jason Statham is a testament to that.
Enzo is utterly horrified. “There is no reason to bring up baldness.” He runs his hand through his thick mop of black hair. Yes, no fate is worse to an Italian man than losing his hair.
“What did he order?” I ask. Why come back the very next night? It doesn’t make sense. He already tried all of my dishes last night. “You sure he’s a critic?”
“Bianca is seating them.”
“Could have come back for her,” I point out. Men flock to my sister. Except Reggie.
I’ve seen many linger at the bar while she’s here, trying to gain her attention. We should be putting her on social media and not me, but Bianca is always going on about me giving some wholesome realness. Pretty sure it’s her saying I’m chubby in a sweet way. I’m not mad about it. Never trust a skinny chef.
“One of everything,” Bianca says, entering the kitchen with an annoyed expression on her face.
“Who ordered one of everything again?” Gio pops his head out from the small office in the back.
“Same guy from last night. But he’s got someone with him tonight.”
“A date?” Enzo asks. “That’s good. He has to enjoy the food then. Wanted someone else to experience it.” That could be true.
“I don’t think it’s a date. The man with him called him ‘Doctor’, and he was staring at my feet.” We all glance down to Bianca’s white shiny heels at the same time.
“Don’t kink shame.” Reggie comes to the man's defense. Bianca rolls her eyes.
“I mean, you said he’s a doctor. Maybe he noticed something wrong with your feet.” Leave it to Enzo to send a conversation spinning. Now we’re all really staring at her feet. This is leading nowhere fast. My siblings will use any ammunition they’re given to ruffle each other's feathers.
“What do you mean? My feet are fine,” Bianca rebuffs. Now she’s eyeing her own feet.
“I don’t know. You’re always in heels. That might not be good for the body.” Gio shrugs.
“He is an architect,” I deadpan.
“You’re all a bunch of weirdos.” She turns, leaving us in the kitchen.
“As much as her shoes cost, you’d think she’d want them to get attention,” Sara mutters under her breath next to me. I giggle. Ain’t that the truth.
“Make sure everything is perfect,” Enzo tells me.
“Oh, Sara, toss this.” I motion to the pan in front of me. “This one was going to be shit,” I say sarcastically to make my point to Enzo.
“I told you. She’s been hanging out with Bianca,” Enzo says to my other brother. I ignore them both and get back to work. My curiosity is still piqued about the man who has come back a second night in a row to order everything on the menu. Does he really enjoy the food that much or is he after my sister’s attention?
Bianca comes in and out of the kitchen a few times. “He still staring at your feet?” I ask as I plate the Cacio e Pepe.
