“Okay, Riverton,” I say, the name feeling awkward. I can’t bring myself to call him Theo. It feels too intimate for right now.
“I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to apologize for my behavior during the morning meeting. I was unprofessional,and I can promise you it won’t happen again.” He exhales. “I’m sure it won’t be long before the office gossip tells you that whenever I return from the London office I’m... how to put it... volatile?
I’ve been trained all my life not to gape. But in this case, I can’t help myself. My jaw falls open wide enough to catch a bluefin tuna.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, I wanted to assure you that I don’t make it a habit of dismantling a new hire’s confidence in front of the entire team. Especially when Leon was right—your report was better put together than his.”
“Um, thanks? I . . . apology accepted.”
He nods. “Sharma tells me she’s moving you to the Medusa’s Fury project next week.”
“That’s right. She is.” My chin lifts.
“Good. Well... welcome to the team. Have a good night.”
“You too,” I squeak and scurry out of the room.
Andy and Derrickspot me from across the room and wave me over when I arrive at Mamma Lina’s.
Leon’s gesticulating wildly, telling a story, when I sit down, and for the first time all day, I relax. “Hey, glad you made it, kiddo,” he says, scooting over to make room for me.
“Trust me, nothing could’ve kept me away,” I say, reaching for the sweating glass of water in front of me.
The restaurant is tiny. There are only eight tables, each one covered with red-and-white checkered cloths. Yellowing and slightly faded vintage posters of Rome, Venice, Pisa,and Florence adorn the walls. The air smells like garlic, toasted bread, and tomato sauce. Somewhere in the back, someone is singing loudly and slightly off-key in Italian over the clatter of pans.
Leon slides the breadbasket toward me with a flourish. “I secured this for you before the wolves descended.”
“I should’ve known you were hiding it,” Derrick gasps in betrayal.
Leon smirks. “Of course I hid it. I wasn’t about to let you heathens inhale it before Kaori even sat down. She’s never had Mamma Lina’s bread. And I’ve been building up how good it is all day.”
“Fair enough,” Andy agrees, bobbing his head up and down.
“Thanks,” I say, already reaching for the biggest slice. I tear into it. It has a crisp crust and a warm, chewy center. The garlic butter brings out the faint tang of sourdough. Igroan. Loudly. I don’t even care. It is delicious.
“Well, now,” a woman in a chef’s coat says as she approaches, amused. She looks to be in her early sixties, her dark hair streaked with silver. She smiles like she’s seen this reaction a thousand times and loves it every time. “Sounds like someone approves.”
My hand flies to cover my mouth in mortification.
She chuckles.
Andy has the last piece of bread pinched between his fingers. Derrick sheepishly lifts the now empty basket. “Lina, please tell me there’s more of this in the back. Preferably buckets of it.”
“Yes. Katie always makes extra for Mondays when she knows you lot will be here. But you’ll have to wait,” Lina chastises gently. “If I refill it now, you’ll ruin your appetite.”
“Yes we will,” Andy says proudly.
Leon elbows him. “Excuse these two black holes. They’ll wait.”
Lina winks. “I have four sons. They never grow out of the bottomless-pit phase.” She flips open her notepad. “Usual for you all? The family-sized spaghetti and meatballs?”
“For us, yes,” Leon says. “But Kaori needs a menu.”
Warmth pools in my chest. “If that’s what you recommend, that’s what I’ll get. Spaghetti’s perfect.”
“All right,” Lina says. “I’ll be right out with it.” She walks back to the kitchen.
I can already picture joining everyone here again. “Do you come here often?” I ask, wiping garlic butter from my fingers before I eat the napkin itself.
