I study him for another long moment. He doesn’t look away.
“Talk to my front of the house manager,” I say finally. “He’ll get you the paperwork.”
He lets out a long breath through his nose. “Thank you, Soph—I mean, Chef. Thank you.”
I nod once. “Don’t make me regret it.”
He almost smiles. “I won’t.”
I turn back toward the kitchen. Behind me I hear him exhale again, but softer. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, but I believe in fresh starts. I am in the middle of one.
It seems worth extending the same opportunity to someone else.
17
VIN
The smell in this closed up room makes me want to puke. Fuck, breathing air makes me want to puke. I can’t remember the last time I did anything but pour bottle after bottle of whiskey down my throat.
And ignoring my phone until it finally died. Anything to not hear about this fucking funeral, calling Ronan, or starting a life that doesn’t include Sophie. I know I told Tommy and Matti I’d get up and get things going when they left. But I fucking didn’t. Sue me.
I don’t get up when someone darkens the doorway and doesn’t move.
Squinting toward the shadow, I’m not sure if there’s even anything there until it speaks.
“You look like shit.” It’s a female voice I can’t quite place right now.
“Thanks.”
“It wasn’t a compliment, Vin.”
Fucking Siena. I groan and bury my face in the carpet. “Didn’t think it was.”
There’s silence and I think she might be gone until I hear the rake of curtain rings across the rod and look up to see Siena ripping open the curtains.
“Fuck! Close that!”
“No. The guys are worried about you. The funeral is in three days. Apparently there’s a list of shit you have to do and people are getting nervous that you haven’t done it.”
“Mind your business.”
“This is my business. This is the health and safety of my husband. Of my child. And for some reason it appears to balance on you making healthy choices. So now you need to get the fuck up and take care of your brothers like they’re trying to take care of you.”
I lift my glass and drink. The whiskey isn’t great. It stopped being great when I ran out of Whistle Pig, but it’s rough and getting the job done. “No.”
“Get. Up.”
“Fuck you.”
She sighs. ”Don’t be a dick, Vin. I brought youpastina.”
I roll my eyes.
She comes around my chair and sets a bowl on the coffee table in front of me. The smell hits like a brick. Ordinarily, it would smell great but right now it just makes me sick.
“Is that Sophie’s?” I hear myself ask in a voice that sounds almost desperate and I immediately fucking hate myself. “Did she send it?”
Siena purses her lips. “No, you shit. I made it. It’s her recipe, but she didn’t send it.” She sits down across from me uninvited. “You know she’s moved on, right?”
