by Cora Brent
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply. “This is weird, huh?”
He nodded with a vague smile. “Weird, yeah.” He met my eyes, and his expression was kind. “I was surprised to see you working here. Just wanted to make sure everything was all right with you.”
“You mean because I’ve taken an apparent step down in the professional world?”
James made a face. “I heard what happened at that resort you were working at. I’m sorry, Mel. I should have gotten in touch with you. I could have pulled a few strings to get you an offer somewhere.” He looked earnest. “I still can, you know. I’ve got a lot of contacts all over the valley. One of my frat brothers—”
I cut him off. “I don’t need your strings, James.”
James hesitated. Then a grudging grin spread across his face. “No, you probably don’t. You were always so capable all on your own.” He scanned the busy dining room. “Are you happy, Melanie?”
“Yes,” I said before I had a chance to think about whether it was true. “I’ll be just fine.”
He looked at me like he wanted to believe me but was unsure.
“You should go back to your wife,” I said gently. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, but didn’t budge. I got the feeling he was waiting for something. Forgiveness maybe. Or perhaps an acknowledgment that our relationship had never been built on the right kind of feelings in the first place. I didn’t hate James. I never had. He wasn’t a terrible guy. He just wasn’t meant for me.
“I’ll send over a few glasses of wine,” I said. “On the house.”
He flashed a sincere smile. “That would be great. Thanks, Mel,” he said and then returned to his wife.
I arranged for the wine to be sent over to James’s table. But I asked Jessica to serve it. That part of my life was over.
When Esposito’s closed down for the night and I returned to my office, I felt strangely at peace yet sad. I just couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t come to work each day pretending like my heart wasn’t suffering from being yanked around so roughly. I wasn’t even angry with Dominic. I’d understood what I was risking when I started up with him. I kept thinking about this movie I’d seen once. It was one of those angst-laden ensemble flicks about love and dating and all its accompanying agonies. In it the bartender informed a friend, “Look if a guy wants a relationship with you, he’ll make it happen.” Or something like that.
Anyway, I got the message. If Dominic wanted a real future with me, he would say so without reservations. He wouldn’t just talk about the places we’d go and the things we’d do; we’d actually get there. I had known from the beginning that work was Dominic’s priority, but I had hoped that at some point I might end up mattering to him as much as his restaurants did. Now I wondered if that had always been a foolish wish. After all, there was no point in trying to change someone who didn’t want to be changed. Seeing James tonight reminded me that I’d wasted too much time in the wrong relationship once. I was crazy about Dominic, but I wasn’t willing to hang out in the background in the hopes that someday I’d get promoted to first chair instead of languishing in a second fiddle role.
I heaved a very theatrical sigh and pulled my purse out from underneath my desk. I couldn’t keep waiting for some romantic grand gesture that was never going to show up. Maybe I needed to quit, to start over yet again. I could think about going back to school, or I could even ask my sister if she had use for a roommate up there in San Francisco. Staying here would only end up breaking my heart, and my heart had already taken a few beatings in this life. As soon as Dominic returned from his secret field trip, I’d explain that to him.
I was about to turn off the office light when I remembered Gio’s comment about how Dominic had left me something in the bottom drawer of my desk. With yet another sigh, I dropped my purse and went over to find out what it was.
The brown paper bag obviously held a book, a rather large hardcover book. I turned the object over in my hand curiously and then opened the bag. Authentic Mexican Cooking was the title. The colorful cover depicted thumbnail pictures of a variety of very tasty-looking dishes. But it was the note taped to the cover that really caught my attention. I knew before I started reading that it was Dominic’s handwriting.
Melanie,
I thought we could try and make some of these recipes together. Maybe we’ll even figure out the secret to your father’s tamales. I hope you like the book. I hope it makes you think of home and family. I hope it gives you pride in who you are. Food has the power to do that, you know.
There’s so much I want to tell you. There are so many things I want to share with you.
Please don’t give up on me just yet.
Love,
Dominic
I sat down and cracked open the book carefully as if it was a priceless illuminated manuscript. Some of the recipes were familiar, but many I’d never heard of. A funny thing happened as I browsed the glossy pictures and read the names of the recipes. I felt a connection to something vital and historical, a sense of familiarity. I didn’t remember much about my father’s parents, and I’d never seen the place they came from—a small town in the Mexican state of Coahuila—but as I read about the kind of food that my grandmother had probably made in her own kitchen, the same food that her own grandmother had likely made before her, I was amazed. Dominic was right about food and what it could do.
While I read through the details of the most eye-catching recipes, I snacked on a bag of Doritos that I’d forgotten I had in my desk. They tasted a little funny, but I figured they wouldn’t hurt me. After I turned every page of the book, I picked it up and hugged it to my chest.
And just like that I was no longer considering quitting Esposito’s. I wasn’t going anywhere just yet.
CHAPTER THIRTY
DOMINIC
We were flying directly over Phoenix now. When I took note of such area landmarks as Camelback Mountain and Arizona State University, I found myself grinning like a jackass. Even though I’d only been away for thirty-six hours, I was damn glad to be home. New York was nice, but it wasn’t home anymore, hadn’t been for ten years.
Before the plane took off this morning, I texted Melanie to let her know I’d be back this afternoon. Then I stared at my phone for half an hour and waited for her to respond. She didn’t.
It was just after noon by the time I exited the airport, and since I was closer to Espo 1, I decided to stop there first. Gio was there, dealing with the lunch crowd, just as I’d figured he would be. The restaurant was busy and pleasantly noisy with herds of college kids running in to grab a slice or two before dashing back to their next class.
Giovanni was actually working in the kitchen because we were a little shorthanded, and a few of the staff were being juggled between the two locations.
“Could you use some help?” I asked, already grabbing an apron from the hook by the kitchen entrance.
Gio looked up, smiled, and then went back to rolling dough. “You’re back.”
“Yup, I’m tough to get rid of.”
“In that case, do you mind grabbing the latest batch of pies out of the oven?”
We worked side by side for the next hour. Eventually the throngs of hungry students thinned out. I grabbed two plates and set two slices on each of them.
“Let’s go eat,” I said, jerking my head toward the dining room.
Gio told the other guys in the kitchen to holler if they needed anything. Then he followed me to the same table we’d occupied the other day before I left for New York. We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. One of the servers came by with a pair of sodas.
“Thanks, Aimee,” Gio said. He took a sip of his drink, and then his face turned serious. “Were you able to find him?”
“I found him.”
Gio leaned forward. “And he talked to you?”
“He talked to me.”
My brother scratched his head, seemin
g perplexed. “You’re smiling and you don’t have any visible bruises, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign.”
I took a drink, then set the glass down. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
Gio didn’t interrupt me with questions as I gave him a detailed account of my reunion with Steven. He looked a little sad and guilty when I explained that Steven hadn’t had anything to do with the collapse of the old place. It was all Uncle Frank. And then his mouth fell open a little when I told him about how Steven and I made dinner together and amused the girls with stories about growing up in the middle of a famous New York eatery.
“By the way, he asked about you,” I said. “He was happy to hear that life is treating you well.”
“Did you get his number?” he asked. “I’d like to talk to him myself.”
“I have it.” I paused. “Look, there’s something I want to run past you. I didn’t even mention it to him, and I have no way of knowing if he’d even accept, but I think it could turn out to be a good thing for all of us.”
My brother was already nodding in agreement before I finished outlining the idea that had occurred to me in Steven’s kitchen yesterday.
“I’m totally cool with that,” he said. “We could use another solid, full-time cook, and Steven knows his shit. Hell, he helped teach us. You really think he’d move his family all the way across the country, though?”
I’d already considered the question. “I think he might. Cost of living out there, even on Long Island, is through the roof. He could find a nice place here in the valley for much less than he’s paying for that rental house. Plus I got the impression he’s looking for something better for his kids, a way to start over.”
Gio was thoughtful. “Maybe you’re right. After all, we started over once, remember?” He looked around proudly at the restaurant, the first restaurant we’d opened together. “I think it’s turned out pretty well.”
“I think it did, too,” I said. Then I took my phone out of my pocket and quickly flipped through my contacts.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Just sent you Steven’s number. You wanted to call him anyway, so how do you feel about making the offer?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind doing that. Hey, are you leaving now?”
I was already out of my seat and collecting the plates. “Yeah, I’ll just drop these off at the sink, and then I’ve got to go.”
Gio took the plates from my hand. “I’ll take care of that. You going to Espo 2?”
I shot him a look. “I’m going to her,” I said.
He bowed his head with a smile. When he raised his eyes again, he was wearing a thoroughly amused expression. “This is it for you, isn’t it?”
“Yup. I just hope she feels the same way about me.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Speak from the heart, Dom. Don’t hold back.”
“I won’t. Not anymore.”
As I left Espo 1, I checked my phone again, but Melanie still hadn’t answered my text from this morning. It didn’t make a difference at this point. I was going to her whether she was ready or not.
By the time I was standing underneath Espo 2’s sign, I was nervous. I planned to take Gio’s advice without reservation. I wouldn’t hold back. There were no guarantees Melanie would even want to hear what I had to say. If she needed time, then I’d give her time. But what I hoped she needed was to fall into my arms and let me carry her off into the sunset.
Patsy was at the hostess desk. When I walked through the door, she started to say something that would herald my arrival, but I put a finger to my lips. She was bewildered, but she didn’t utter a word.
Melanie hadn’t seen me yet. The dining room was about two-thirds full, and she was circulating, chatting with customers and offering recommendations. She wasn’t dressed up today. No power suit or cute skirt, just an Esposito’s T-shirt and a pair of jeans. I watched her, drinking in every bend in her movements, every curve of her body. As much as I appreciated the sophisticated look when she was dressed to the nines, I loved her even more like this; casual and smiling and perfectly at ease.
She laughed at something said at a table of young professional women she’d stopped to talk to. Then as she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, she happened to glance in my direction. Her eyes widened when she saw me standing ten feet away and staring right at her. All day I had been telling myself that as soon as I looked into her eyes, I’d know whether I had a chance to keep her. As I studied her face, I knew I’d been right.
It was one of those motion-picture moments where sound and people fell away. Esposito’s and everyone in it were suddenly irrelevant. There were no tables or chairs or pizzas being carried around on aluminum trays. There was no one and nothing but Melanie.
I took a step in her direction, and she did the same. She was tense, I could tell. She glanced at the floor and briefly pressed her lips together as we came face-to-face. I wanted to give her the opportunity to speak first, so I waited.
“How was your trip?” she asked.
“Short,” I said. “I did what I needed to do, though.”
I’d tell her the rest later. The past wasn’t part of this conversation. This was just about us.
Melanie cleared her throat, glanced around, and then leaned in, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize my phone had died. I had to borrow a charger to plug it in, and I only saw your text a few minutes ago.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, relieved that she hadn’t been ignoring me. “I’m here now.”
She nodded absently. “I see that.” She backed up and started talking in a crisp tone. “Well, the first thing you should know is that the freezer’s acting up again, so you might want to go back there and—”
“I don’t give a damn,” I said, cutting her off brusquely.
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean you don’t give a damn?”
“Right now I don’t give a damn about the freezer or the restaurant or all the rules of etiquette that I’m about to break.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to share with me what you do give a damn about, Dominic?”
I reached for her and cupped her sweet face in my hands. More than anything I wanted to wake up to her face every morning and then spend my day trying to give her reasons to smile.
“You,” I said. “Melanie, sometimes I’m a clueless, overbearing jackass.”
She was confused, but she didn’t pull away. “Do you want me to argue with you?”
“No, I don’t want you to argue with me, at least not right now.” I paused and swallowed. “But I swear I’ll worship you every single day if you let me.”
A blush colored her cheeks, and she glanced round to see who was watching. Everyone was. We were standing in the middle of the dining room with customers and staff scattered around. They were all far more interested in the live entertainment than in the food.
“We should go in the office,” she murmured.
“We should not,” I argued. I brushed my thumbs across her lips and felt her tremble.
“Dom,” she whispered, and I kissed her. I started out gently, tenderly. Then I teased her lips open with my tongue, slid my hands around her body, and pressed her close. She responded with equal passion, and I could see her smiling between kisses. When I lifted her into my arms, she let out a tiny squeal, but her arms immediately curled around my neck. A round of applause broke out. That’s when I decided to make the scene even more cinematic.
Melanie and I were both laughing as I carried her through the front door of Esposito’s and out to the street while everyone in the restaurant continued to cheer. A few passersby stared, but I didn’t care who was looking or talking or judging.
“Where are we going?” she asked as I marched toward the silver buildings of downtown Phoenix.”
I stopped walking. “Actually, I’m not sure.”
She jerked her head in the direction of the restaurant. “You realize
we’ll need to go back in there at some point, right? I mean, we work there and all.”
“We don’t need to go back yet,” I insisted. “Being the boss comes with certain privileges.”
Melanie giggled against my cheek. “And here I asked your brother yesterday if I was about to get fired.”
I was startled. “Fired? Were you serious?”
“No.” She laughed again. “He told me you had left me something, and I asked if it was a pink slip.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know. Thank you for the cookbook, Dom.”
“Thank you for staying, Mel.” I paused only for a second and then took a chance. “And thank you for being mine.”
She let out a happy sigh and nuzzled my neck. “Am I yours?”
A fierce kind of possessiveness gripped me, and I held her more tightly. She was so light I could have carried her around all day. But I set her on her feet so that I could look her in the eye more easily and tell her something important.
“That’s up to you,” I said, and moved a loose strand of dark hair from her forehead. “You have my heart no matter what.”
Melanie smiled up at me. “When we first met, I never would have guessed you were so romantic.” Her smile grew soft and wistful. “I’m yours, Dom.” She bit her lip and looked bashful. “If I tell you I’m falling in love with you, will you run away?”
I gently tipped her chin up. “No,” I said firmly. “I wouldn’t run away from you. I’m crazy in love with you, Mel, and I don’t care if cynics complain that it’s too soon or that we didn’t do this right or whatever bullshit reasons people argue about. There are as many ways to fall in love as there are stars in the sky.”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Love conquers all,” she said in a whisper.
“What’s that, a saying?”
“It’s more than that. It’s a fact.” She rose up on her tiptoes. “Come closer,” she urged.
We kissed, and I wrapped her in my arms right there on the streets of Phoenix. I probably would have stayed just like that for hours, but she pulled back and gazed up at me.