“And to make your mark you think you have to go to Italy for six months?”
I shrug, stirring the remains of my apple cider margarita with a cinnamon stick. “I think when the Italian Culinary Institute sends you an acceptance letter, it’s a really hard offer to pass up.”
Especially for someone like me, who discovered my love for cooking in high school after my older sister left for college and Gabe was busy with his company. Experimenting in the kitchen, starting with my mom’s old recipes and then graduating to developing recipes on my own, became both my joy and my salvation. I only realized I could turn it into a career when I was in college myself, and I worked my ass off to catch up to all the people who had been working in kitchens for what seemed liketheir whole lives. The acceptance letter feels like the culmination of all that hard work, and I’m fucking proud of it.
“I’ll really miss you if you go,” Maddy says suddenly, looking up from her homework. “You’re, like, the only one around here who isn’t married and boring.”
Laughing, I run a hand down Maddy’s ponytail. Since I moved to Pittsburgh a couple years ago, Maddy and I have gotten really close. With a degree in hospitality management with a culinary focus but no real desire to work in a restaurant kitchen, I found myself a little aimless for a while. A few weeks after I moved, Jeremy and his wife Emma, one of my sister-in-law Molly’s best friends, lost their nanny, and I filled in for what was supposed to be a temporary gig. It ended up lasting for more than a year, while I apprenticed with a couple of local caterers to gain some experience before I started considering my own company.
Even though they have someone new now, I still pick up Maddy sometimes just for fun, and every few weeks she comes over to my apartment for a sleepover that includes dinner, a spa night, and a rom-com movie marathon. My chest pinches at the idea of leaving her. At the idea of leaving everyone. “It’s just for six months, Mads. And think of all the amazing desserts I’ll learn how to make when I’m there.”
Maddy rolls her eyes with such pre-teen drama that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “You make amazing desserts now.”
“You absolutely do.” Jeremy takes the last swig of his beer and crosses his arms on the table. “And dessert is one of the most important parts of the Kids Play gala.”
“Oh my god, yes,” Maddy says. “Remember those chocolate cakes last year with the runny middle? You brought one home for me, and it was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” When Jeremynarrows his eyes at her, she slides her gaze to mine, giving me a sly smile. “You could definitely make them better.”
Laughing, I drop my head back in defeat. “Fuck, fine. I’ll cater the damn gala.” When Maddy cheers and Jeremy beams at me, his eyes alight with victory, I point to him. “But not because Gabe puppeteered this entire thing like the meddling older brother he is or because you rearranged the entire gala schedule. Because catering is fun, and this kind of thing will look stellar on my resume when I come back from Italy and start my company.”
“You’re going to Italy?”
The deep, rumbly voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I look up, straight into the whiskey-colored gaze of Brian Simpson, Jeremy’s half-brother. With those piercing eyes, dark hair tousled like he’s spent all day running his fingers through it, and the light scruff covering his jaw, he and Jeremy could almost be twins. But where Jeremy is all easy-going smiles, Brian is more…layered. Not broody, exactly, but it’s like he’s more…muted, maybe. Like there’s an extra layer of heaviness on his shoulders that Jeremy doesn’t carry, and something about that complexity is absolutely scorching hot. Butterflies erupt in my stomach as he studies me, those dark, intense eyes locked on mine.
I could get lost in that gaze.
The thought is heady and also the very last thing I should be thinking about my older brother’s best friend. My older brother’s ten-years-older-than-I-am best friend.
“Uncle Brian!” Maddy says, bouncing up from her seat and tossing her arms around his waist before I have a chance to answer his question. “You missed my game earlier! You should have seen my goal in the third period. I did the wrist-shot and it was epic.”
Brian looks away, focusing on Maddy, and I swallow hard, not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed to have his attention offof me. He bends to kiss the top of her head. “I hate that I had to miss it. They needed me at the stadium, but I bet your dad has it on video.”
He looks at Jeremy, who grins again, pulling out his phone. “Whether I have it on video or not isn’t the right question. The right question is which video you want. I’ve got the live action shot, the slow-motion replay, and also a bunch of still pictures for good measure.”
Brian grins back, and my breath catches in my lungs. He doesn’t smile often, but Jesus, when he does? It’s killer. “Send them all. Gotta see my girl’s athletic brilliance.”
Jeremy taps his phone a few times, and I hear Brian’s cell chime in his pocket. “Sent. Okay, Little Red,” he says, pushing up from the table. “Pack it in. You and I are on dinner duty tonight and it’s snowing, so you know what that means.”
Maddy’s eyes light up as she shoves her books and binders into her backpack. “Tacos and a blanket fort?”
“You bet. You heading out, Liv?”
I glance around the bar again while I consider his question and then finally shake my head. “Not yet. It’s cozy in here, and apparently, I’ve got a party menu to plan.” I roll my eyes, and Jeremy laughs.
“You’re saving my ass, girlie.” He turns to Brian. “Can you make sure she gets out to her car okay when she’s done? It’ll be slippery outside.”
“Of course,” Brian says, his eyes back on me, that stupid shiver shooting right back down my spine.
“I don’t need a damn babysitter,” I mutter, turning my gaze to Jeremy. “Since you, my brother, and all of your little friends seem to have forgotten, I’ll remind you for the millionth time that I’m a grown ass woman. In less than a month, I’ll be on a plane to Italy all by myself for six whole months without asingle brother to watch out for me. I can definitely manage to get myself to my car.”
“I’ll walk her out.” Brian is talking to Jeremy but he’s looking at me, and I roll my eyes again, feeling like a bratty teenager. Exactly how I want to feel in front of the hot, older guy. Yay me, I guess.
“Thanks, man,” Jeremy says, like I’m not even sitting here, and holy patronizing shit. I wonder if I can change my flight and leave for Europe tomorrow. I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to assert my independence to all of these friends of Gabe who insist on acting like overbearing brothers. “Thanks again for helping with the gala, Liv. I appreciate it more than you know. And make sure you have those mini hot dogs wrapped in the puff pastry shit. Those are the best.”
I send him a mini-glare. “You’ll take what I give you and you’ll like it.”
Jeremy just grins at me, entirely unaffected. “Whatever you do is going to be amazing. Catch ya later, Liv.”
“Bye, Liv,” Maddy calls as they walk away.
