Tough Going (Tough Love Book 2)

by Trixie More

  Of all of Spencer Moss’s children, Sophia was the smartest by far. She and her brothers all knew it. The only people who didn’t seem to understand that were her parents, even though she’d skipped third grade. Her father was obsessed with her appearance, and her mother was all too ready to go easy on her husband. Foibles. That’s what her mother called them. Sophia thought back to the night Allison had told the good doctor off. She felt a smile coming on despite her negative thoughts. Seeing her brother’s girlfriend get all up in the good doctor’s business had been a pleasure, and Sophia wasn’t above allowing herself a little vicarious enjoyment of it. Her father had been convinced that Derrick was the least impressive of his children since they were small. She knew Spencer ranked his children, lined them up like little toys in his mind and arranged them to his own advantage. She also knew that her father used David’s success to bolster his own ego. And her beauty, curse it, was the thing her father valued most about her. He seemed to have the ability to see people as two dimensional, each child allowed only a single defining trait. David was a doctor, the embodiment of Spencer, all his accomplishments serving only to further illuminate their father’s own glory; Sophia, was a great beauty, proving to the world that Spencer himself must be handsome to have sired her, to have married Marie; and Derrick, well, the more he failed, the better Spencer looked in comparison. Derrick’s role was to be his father’s contrast.

  Sadness overcame Sophia at the thought, despite the fact she’d known it all her life. She pulled out her cell phone and brought up her texting app. Of course, Derrick was the first name on the list, there was nobody she texted more. She tapped the phone and sent her brother a smiley face. Instantaneously, a hugging emoji came back. Sophia put her phone away and shut her eyes, her body rocking to the movement of the train and the constant that was her brother’s love.

  It was late in the afternoon when Allison worked up the nerve to go next door and find Angelo. The bar was starting to fill up, drinking seemed to start earlier on Saturday’s, Allison noticed. At her shop, the orders for that night were stacked up nicely, there would be money left to give to Angelo, she was sure of it. There were only two deliveries to make, and after the Christmas disaster, she’d figured out how to use a network of delivery freelance drivers so that she could get orders to multiple places at once. That had allowed her to agree to take on business from people that all needed food at the same time, and of course, they always required everything at the same time. Nothing was ever going to be easy, so she had to be smart and tough. Now, she was going to have to be brave.

  After their last meeting, she didn’t know what Angelo would think of her, showing up at his bar, asking for advice. Derrick’s face rose in her mind, those warm coffee eyes, the certainty on his face when he’d said they’d wrestle out their disagreements in bed. She smiled broadly, a small stinging in her nose warning her she was getting mushy. She was abso-freaking-lutely head over heels for Derrick, and she couldn’t wait until nine thirty tomorrow morning. Allison squared her shoulders and opened the door, noticed a new person bartending and headed to the back of the bar, finding Rose at one of the tables by the dart boards. She had papers spread on the table and a coffee mug in her hand.

  “Hey! Cookie!” Rose hopped off the stool, as bouncy as a sparrow, and wrapped her in a big hug. Funny how Allison didn’t even try to get away from that all-encompassing hug fest. Rose was a force of nature, getting hugged was as inevitable as the weather.

  “Hi, Rose,” Allison squeezed her back, surprising herself at the feelings welling in her chest. For a moment, she wished Rose was her mother. Allison stepped back, embarrassed at herself. “Do you know where Angelo is?”

  “He’s in the kitchen, cookie. Why?” Rose tipped her head, bright eyes assessing her. Yep, the woman was bird-like.

  “Derrick told me I should talk to him.”

  Rose smiled at just the mention of her grandson’s name, and Allison felt an insane amount of affection for the old woman. “Perfect! My grandson is so smart!” She looked at Allison, just the tiniest bit of craftiness in her expression. “And handsome, too. Don’t you think?”

  Allison laughed. “You don’t need to try to set us up, Rose. I think Derrick took care of that himself.”

  Rose’s smile broadened, and she literally clapped her hands. “Oh! Do you think there will be babies?”

  Allison choked. “Not that set up yet! We’re just starting to be …” she searched for the words. Hanging out wasn’t going to be the way to say it. “Dating?”

  Rose’s delight was unstoppable. “Well, that won’t last long! My Derrick has his mind made up, I just know it.”

  Allison felt a frisson of worry. Just because she was all in on Derrick, didn’t mean that things would all work out. Men tended to like her well enough at first, but they got tired pretty quickly of her. However, there was no way to temper Rose’s hopes without bringing out all her own issues and tossing them on the table like a poker hand that was played out, so Allison just rolled her eyes and repeated her request to see Angelo.

  “Go on into the kitchen. You’re family now.”

  Now didn’t that make everything easier? Allison gave herself a mental kick and went through to the kitchen. The cook was there, pulling golden shrimp out of the deep fry, the basket sliding over a slanting metal guard that both prevented spatter and cleared excess oil from the bottom of the basket. He dumped the sizzling curls onto a plate, already decorated with parsley. He returned the basket and arranged a salad on the same plate, arranging the colorful vegetables in a flash. The kitchen door opened behind her and a waitress zoomed in, snatched the plate, spun on her heel and disappeared. Angelo’s voice broke her reverie.

  “Out of the way, girl.” The man himself was on the other side of the worktable, the center shelves blocking her view. Allison came around to the side where Angelo was working, knife gleaming as he sliced thin sections off a pork loin, piling them onto an artisan bread creating gracefully curving layers. “She’s a beautiful cut of meat, no?” He looked at her, his face joyous and open. She’d never seen the man thus. He looked twenty years younger as he deftly moved, layering translucent provolone on the pork, roasted pepper peeking out from beneath the meat, giving the sandwich a pop of color. The knife flashed in his hand, the creation sliced deftly in half and plated instantaneously. The waitress pushed her aside and grabbed the plate.

  “Now, what brings you here?” Angelo asked, wiping his hands on a towel. “You hungry?”

  She collected her thoughts. “I’m sorry about the other day,” she said.

  “What sorry?” he asked. He looked genuinely confused.

  “We argued. Over my mortgage.”

  He smiled at her. “My mortgage you mean.”

  She felt her temperature rise. Not now, she was coming to ask the man’s help, not fight with him. Lord, the man, was contentious. “Your mortgage,” she conceded, and his face reflected his surprise at the statement. “Derrick sent me over.”

  “He’s here?”

  “No.” She blushed. “Derrick told me this morning.”

  Angelo’s face reflected surprise, his hazy eyes softening a bit. He looked at her in such a way that Allison’s heart clutched. Good gravy, she didn’t know how in the hell she was going to bear losing Derrick. Now she was going to have to suffer the loss of Angelo and Rose too? This romance of hers was shaping up to be a heartbreak of epic proportions. She looked at Angelo and tried to find the antagonism she’d held or anything to just make her not feel so dangerously, to not want to please the man so much.

  “Ah, so it’s like that,” he said, an uncharacteristic warmth in his voice. “I hope this isn’t going to stop you and me from working out our business.” Was he laughing? Allison’s head spun. Was this what family felt like?

  Get a grip on yourself, she thought wildly. This is work, this is business, money.

  “It’s like that,” she agreed. “And I’m sure you and I can still duke it out if we want.”r />
  Angelo’s answering smile completely trashed her. All in on the man and his family. She was in such trouble. Get your shit together, Allie Girl.

  “So, um, he and I were talking about the fact that I need to get my business making more money.” Angelo kindly kept his trap shut at that. She continued. “So, um, he suggested I ask you for advice.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, huh. OK, then. Here’s what I know.” For the next twenty minutes, Angelo gave her a crash course on knowing her customers. He sounded like an old-school Italian version of Dorothy, the whole time, filling orders that the waitress kept handing him. When he exhausted that topic, he moved on, rapid-fire, to narrowing scope down to one thing.

  “You gotta make up your mind what you gonna sell and stick to that. You can’t jump around, one thing one day, one thing the next.” Allison groaned, thinking of Marley’s lecture.

  “But here’s the main thing, girl,” he said, his body pausing its flowing activity. He looked her in the eye, gesturing at her with his kitchen knife. “You cannot do this thing alone.”

  Allison’s heart sank. She was alone. She had to be able to do it by herself.

  “No! I can see in your face, you’re thinking something else.” He started moving again, this time stacking up the ingredients of a humble BLT with the same care as he did everything. Rose came into the kitchen, geared up and started making a small pizza.

  “See that?” Angelo gestured at his wife. He pointed to Lorenzo, who was grilling and frying like his life depended on it. The day had slid into the suppertime hour, and things were getting busy. She would have to get back to her own shop soon. “I can’t do all this.” The waitress came and went, joined by another one now. “You think Rose and I built this business ourselves? Built Mastrelo’s ourselves? NO!” He said the word with such force, Allison jumped a bit.

  “I see you, girl. You still don’t believe me but it’s the honest truth. It’s the only truth.” Allison shivered to hear those words. The only truth. What did that mean?

  Angelo stopped again and turned to her. “Girl, you will never build anything of great value by yourself. Nobody can. How many people worked with us? How many people? The servers, the hostesses, the bartenders. Lord! The bartenders we had then, back in the day. And how many cooks? Dishwashers? The kids that came after school and mopped up? Every member of the family. Marie, she was always here, right until she fell for that jackass of a husband of hers. But smart? The man’s smart and Marie’s kids are smart. But I got sidetracked.” He turned back to his work.

  “Allison, you gonna have a great business if you want to have one, but you are never going to do it alone. That’s the main thing.” He set down the knife with a thunk.

  “Angelo.” Allison looked at the ceiling, trying to think of how to express the chasm of pain his words brought to her. The thought of working like this, like she was watching right this minute, brought so many emotions with it. Just standing in the kitchen with him, while the waitresses, and Rose, and Lorenzo all whirled through their respective steps, in one sweeping, flowing, dance of labor and camaraderie, brought a sense of excitement and desire, so strong, she wanted to race out of there and set up her own business to run just this way. In the next moment, the chord he struck was deadened, as if someone had put their hand on the strings of the instrument and silenced it. She didn’t want to say her first thought, which was that she was alone. So, she went to the next problem in the stack. “I can’t hire a team like that, I’m in debt.”

  Angelo threw his head back and laughed, startling her by throwing his right arm around her shoulders and yanking her into his side. “Debt? You think some time you won’t be in debt? Of course, you’re in debt!” He squeezed her tightly to his side, reminding her so much of Derrick when he did it. “Oh, girl. We’re all in debt, and we never can pay even a penny of it back!” He was laughing so hard that she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to explain. Allison just stood there, swaying into his side with a dumb-ass smile on as he kissed the top of her head, squeezed her tightly, and surprised the shit out of her by leaning down and speaking in her ear, low, so it was just for her. “You’ll do just fine, girl. You’ll do just fine.”

  Derrick arrived at Allison’s kitchen at nine fifteen, finding the shop door open but the closed sign still up. He let himself in, locking the door behind him as the bell above his head announced his arrival. He went into the kitchen, finding Allison putting the finishing touches on a tray of open-faced eggs benedict, decorating with purple and yellow violas and dark green parsley. Behind him, a pounding began.

  “Oh, you locked the door?” Allison looked up in surprise. She gestured, “Can you let her in? She’s here to pick this up—my only customer today.” Her smile was wide and sunny, and it made him feel wonderful. That was the greeting he wanted every day.

  A trio of elderly ladies tumbled into the shop, chattering, spreading out like flowers opening, their Sunday best swirling around their legs.

  “Is it ready?”

  “I believe so, ladies.” He stepped into the back, the hiss of whispers behind him.

  “He’s so handsome …” Followed him.

  “Three women, looking for food?”

  “Oh, good, she brought help.” Allison started stacking the aluminum trays and handing them to him. “Can you bring these out?”

  Something had changed here, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Derrick chalked it up to them having sex and took the trays out. Allison hustled behind him with a box of cupcakes and a bag of bagels.

  “Here you go, ladies. One Heavenly Sunday Spread!” Allison tossed out the name like she sold a heavenly spread every day of her life and Derrick held his laugh as she rang up the food on the register. Derrick checked out the total. Heavenly spreads were serious business.

  After they’d assisted the women, carrying the food to their waiting ride, Derrick put his arm around Allison’s waist, walking her back to the shop, loving the feel of her in his arms, enjoying the strength of sun that day and the bit of warmer weather.

  “I spoke to Angelo.”

  Derrick tried to see her face, but she was looking away. “And?”

  “He didn’t say he’d let me have the place for free.” Allison looked up at him. He laughed.

  “Derrick, I’m glad I talked to him. But I’m still not seeing how this is going to play out. He basically told me that I couldn’t do this alone and that I’d always be in debt.”

  Derrick frowned. That didn’t sound like his grandfather. Well, it kind of did, but not the way she seemed to be taking it. “I don’t understand.”

  “I was right there, in his kitchen, watching him work and I saw how many people it takes to run his business. I know I’m not serving food at my place, I don’t have tables, a bar, don’t need waitresses but I did see how many people I should have. Marley and I can’t do this by ourselves, and I can’t afford more help.” She stopped, opened the door to the shop and let him walk in. She followed and locked the door. “Derrick, I don’t want to quit. I really don’t. But I’m starting to think failure is inevitable.”

  Allison’s pretty face was serious, and he was picking up the idea that he wasn’t getting laid in her office any time soon. In fact, he had a really bad feeling about this altogether.

  “You’re going to say something I won’t like, aren’t you?” He couldn’t believe it, tried to figure out which little change in her expression was the tell, tried to catalog the emotions he saw chasing across her face like wisps of storm clouds blowing past.

  “Derrick.” Oh God, here it came. “I don’t want to come between you and your family.”

  What the fuck. This idea Allison had was insane. She wasn’t going to change the relationship between himself and Angelo.

  “Allison, I hate to break it to you, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

  She backed away from him like she’d been slapped. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted wa
rmth, that brilliant smile that meant she was seeing him, loved him. He was going to fuck this up. How could he get his message through her head?

  He started by walking toward her slowly, carefully, her face getting warier as he moved slower, backing her up toward her office door. He treated her as if she was a wild creature, and really, she was more wild than tame. He spoke softly. “Allison, my grandfather loves me.”

  Her face took on a tragic sadness. Derrick tried to think of the worst thing he could do, to explain it to her.

  “He’s gonna love me if I run out of here and shoot someone.” She backed up, looking sadder if that was possible. Derrick tried for humor. “He’s going to love me if you and I get naked and do it right here on the tile for his customers to see.” She looked skeptical now; it was better than sad. “In fact, I think Rose would cheer. She’s pretty much banking on a baby momma at this point.” There, a smile, small but still a smile. He walked forward, put his hands on her hips, feeling the full curve of them, the promise of that beautiful caboose. Her butt bumped into the doorframe, and he caged her there, not that he could hold her if she chose to leave, he knew that now. And then he said the wrong thing.

  “I’m with you now, and we’re in this together.” She blinked at him for a moment and then her eyes went wide. She ducked under his arm like he was made of live snakes. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  “I don’t think you understand,” she said.

  She had her back to him, was hustling across the open space, careening away. Frustration bloomed in him. She’d told him she was all in. This? Right here? Sure as hell wasn’t all in. Not in his book.

  “Explain it to me, Allison. I’m doing everything I can think of here. Lord knows you’re one tough woman to love, but I am up to the task. In fact, I think I’m the only man who can take you on. But you tell me. What am I missing? ’Cause I’m tired of trying to figure this out on my own.”

  She stopped, turning to him, looking like he’d hit her. Maybe he had because he sure as hell felt like he had.