“Three times a week for lunch at least. It’s why I have this amazing dad bod.” Leon pats his rounded stomach while reaching for the water. “If I’m the office dad, Lina is the office mom. Although she calls herself their nonna.”
“Is that why the office always smells like garlic at lunch?” I ask.
“More or less.” Leon’s gaze drifts toward the porthole window mounted on the door that leads into the kitchen. Inside, Lina is bustling around, her face warm and radiant in the glow of the ovens. A faint flush creeps up Leon’s neck as he watches her. I may not have much experience with romance, but this is a textbook case.
I glance at Derrick and Andy. They’re lost in an animated debate about which Mario Kart map requires more skill—apparently Rainbow Road equals coward’s choice. I lower my voice. “How long have you had a crush on Lina?”
Leon chokes on air. “I—what? No, I don’t.”
I raise a brow. He takes a very dignified sip like that settles it. It doesn’t. I file this away for future blackmail.
For his sake, I change the topic. “So... Riverton.”
“What about him?” Leon asks.
“Why was he such a beast this morning? What is so bad about traveling to the home office?”
Leon sighs. “It’s complicated.”
I frown. “How?”
He takes another long sip from his water. “Excelsior’s London office is the opposite of Orlando in every way. We’re sunshine and they’re all doom and gloom. If you’re sent there... it’s like having your soul sucked out.”
I snort. This has to be another one of his dad jokes. “Nice try, but I’m not buying the dementor theory. Do you want to know what I think? I think Riverton is a brilliant engineer who simply forgot to install the ‘People Skills’ update in his brain. You said yourself this morning that he’s blunt and he means well, and I shouldn’t take things personally. In my book, that’s just code for someone who doesn’t know how to play nice with the other kids in the sandbox. So when he’s in London, he probably gets the same cold-shoulder treatment he gives off.”
The kitchen doors swing open, and Lina emerges, pushing a cart loaded with the largest bowl of spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever seen. “Here we are! One family special.”
“Lina, sorry, but something’s come up and I need my check,” a familiar British voice says from behind the tall booth divider.
My stomach drops.
“Oh, Theo, leaving already?”
The table goes still.
I turn slowly, like a woman facing Medusa, and lean rise just enough to see over the top of the booth behind us. Yep,it’s not my imagination. It’s Theo Riverton. He tilts his head, studying me with his unnerving green eyes. They’re the color of malachite, one of my favorite stones. I want to become a literal meatball and roll under the table
He folds his napkin, sets it aside, and rises. “Yes, I need to pack. I’m catching the red-eye out to Amsterdam.”
Lina clucks her tongue. “You’re traveling again? So soon? You just got back from London.” She gestures at his untouched plate. “Eat two bites first. Don’t make me chase you with a fork like I did my boys growing up.”
“I wish I could, but I really can’t.”
“I hope Mr. Harris appreciates all this.” She sighs, giving him a mom look with her hands on her hips. “Let me box this up for you. And some fresh cannolis. No arguing.”
He opens his mouth, but one more look from her silences him. It’s a look I need to learn.
“Thank you, Lina. I’ll be in the front, making a call.” He stands and strides out without a look back.
Of course I picked a fight with the one man who holds the keys to London—and possibly my future. Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself? “Should I run after him and apologize?” I ask Leon.
“No, give him some space to cool down. Theo will get over it. He’s got thick skin. Pass the salt and pepper, please.”
“But I’m new, and I just said he lacked people skills and he heard me.”
“You were also venting off the clock to your friends. It’s allowed.”
“So there’s hope for me yet?”
