Page 6 of Cherry on Top

Not that the town collectively couldn’t afford it, but if he did this mural for free, it would give him some wiggle room and the kind of flexibility he normally enjoyed on a project, but that he knew his mother and her friends wouldn’t concede easily the way his typical clients did.

“Oh, Enzo, that is wonderful,” she said. “I’ll scrub out the guest room.”

“Mom,” he warned.

“Oh, fine, you can stay in the apartment over the garage. I do know you’re a grown man and want your space.”

“I need my space,” Enzo reminded her.

When he’d turned eighteen, he’d insisted on spending his weekends and evenings turning the loft over the little garage next to his mom’s house into his own place.

It had given him just enough space that he didn’t scream the town down. Especially after she’d hemmed and hawed and ultimately convinced him that he didn’t need to go to art school.

That he’d be happy, settling for running the deli.

But he’d never have been happy. He knew that now.

“Right, of course. I’ll clean out the loft. Make sure it’s all set for you,” Giana promised. “You’ll let me know when you’ll be home? I’ll come to Charleston and pick you up.”

But if he didn’t start the visit the way he meant to live it, it would be a disaster. He’d learned this very early on.

“No, Luca’s always flying places. I’ll text him, and time my flight with one of his.”

She sighed.

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Enzo said.

He’d learned after the first few times he’d returned to Indigo Bay he needed to be protective of his space, or else he and Giana would end up fighting, and that was not the kind of vacation he had in mind.

“Alright.” She didn’t sound that disappointed, and he counted that as his first win.

“I’ve got to get to work, Mom,” he said.

“Just . . .” Her voice softened, full of pure joy. “Just happy you’re coming home, darling.”

“I know, Mom.” He hesitated. Staring at the lavender paint in his hand. “Me, too.”

It wasn’t even a lie.

The moment she hung up, he texted Luca.

You flying home any time in the next two weeks? he asked.

Luca’s answer came through almost immediately. In a week. Why? She didn’t, did she?

Hey, I wasn’t the one who told her.

Sorry.

You’re not.

No. Not really. There’s living your own life, Enzo, and then there’s avoiding your old one.

You’re such a smug asshole.

But Enzo was laughing out loud, enjoying this, because despite what he’d once believed, he now considered Luca the brother he’d never had.

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