“I have an excuse. I gave birth five days ago and I’m up every two hours feeding this little vampire.” She leans forward. “What’s yours? Don’t tell me it’s the restaurant keeping you up.”
“The restaurant is my baby.” I force brightness into my voice, bouncing Emilia gently. “Of course it’s keeping me up.”
“Sophie…”
“I’m fine.” I turn toward the windows, toward the view of the street below. Toward anything but Siena’s too-knowing eyes. “Really. There’s so much to do. The opening is in five weeks and I still need to finalize the menu, hire servers, test recipes. It’s a mess.”
“Did Vin ever talk to you?” Siena interrupts. “About whatever he was so pushy about at the hospital?”
My arms tighten fractionally around Emilia. “No.”
“Of course not.” Siena makes a disgusted sound. “He just wanted your attention. Typical man-child behavior.”
Seeing him the other day wasn’t easy, but the experience became another layer in the wall built between Vin and I. I’m closer to moving on than I’ve ever been, and I feel like a fog is starting to lift. Thinking about Vin and talking about Vin are not things that I want to do.
“I’m thinking of trying a white lasagna with seafood as a special,” I say, changing the subject. “And if it goes well, maybe make it….”
I trail off as the front door opens, and Siena turns to follow my gaze. We both freeze.
It’s Rocco.
He stops just inside the entrance, backlit by afternoon sun. Siena’s hand moves subtly toward her phone.
“Should I call the guards?” she murmurs, not taking her eyes off him.
“Not yet.” I pass Emilia back to her, my hands suddenly cold. “Let me see what he wants.”
Rocco stands awkwardly just inside the door. He’s wearing a button-down shirt, dark jeans, and his hair is combed, the opposite of the abusive, angry man I threw out of the old Arsenal.
He looks smaller somehow. Tired.
“Sophie.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t have the right to show up like this, but I—” His gaze sweeps the restaurant, and he registers surprise. “Wow, this place is incredible. Really. You did an amazing job.”
I say nothing. Behind me, Siena’s breathing is quick and shallow.
“I wanted to ask…” Rocco takes a step forward, then stops when Siena shifts. “I know I messed up. I know I don’t deserve anything from you. But I’ve been looking for work for weeks, and no one will hire me. I’m on parole, I don’t have references, and every kitchen in the city knows I got fired from the Arsenal.”
“You got yourself fired,” I say quietly. “You were aggressive, late, terrible at your job—”
“I know.” He holds up his hands. “I know. And I’m not making excuses. But I’m asking—no, I’m begging—for another chance. Any position. Dishwasher, prep cook, whatever you need. I’ll show up on time. I’ll work hard, I promise.”
I can almost feel Siena behind me willing me to kick him out, but I look at Rocco, really look at him.
He hurt me. He betrayed my trust. But I know it’s been hard for him, and I get what it’s like to need a fresh start.
“I’ll think about it,” I hear myself say.
Rocco’s whole face transforms. “Really? Thank you! Thank you so much, Sophie. I won’t let you down, I swear.”
“I said I’ll think about it.” I keep my voice gentle but firm. “That’s not a yes, okay?”
He nods quickly. “Okay. Yes. Of course. Thank you for even considering it.” He backs toward the door, still nodding. “Thank you. Really.”
The door closes behind him with a soft click.
Siena explodes. “Are you out of your mind? Sophie, that man is amess. He’s going to fuck his way through your entire waitstaff and cause nonstop drama. You cannot seriously be thinking about hiring him back.”
“I said I’d think about it.” I turn toward an array of fabric samples spread across the bar. “That’s all.”
