Page 4 of Big Wild Fighter

Her laugh is light, bubbling up like she can’t help it, and she taps the edge of the table with her fingers. “Alright. I’ll have yourfood out to you soon. Can I get you anything else while I’m back there?”

“Not right now,” I respond, but a thought hits me. “Actually, could you bring me out a salad with whatever house dressing you have?”

“Yep, I got it,” she says, her words punctuated with a little bounce as she turns away. I find myself watching her for a second longer than I probably should.

After she disappears into the kitchen, I lean back in my chair, soaking in the atmosphere of the restaurant. It’s quieter during lunch, but still buzzing with the low hum of conversation. When Grace reappears, she’s carrying my salad with an easy poise.

“Here’s this,” she says, setting the plate down in front of me. “And the dressing is a lemon vinaigrette.”

“Sounds delicious,” I reply, grabbing the ramekin and pouring the dressing over the greens.

“Anything else for you right now?” she asks, her tone as professional as ever, but there’s a sparkle in her eye that makes me grin.

I spear a piece of lettuce with my fork, hesitating for a split second before asking, “Yeah, I actually had a question for you.”

Her brow arches, her teasing grin widening. “And I have an answer. What’s up?”

“Are you a big movie fan?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow. I can’t help but be curious about her, about the person behind that effortless charm.

“Well, it depends on what movie,” she says with a soft laugh. Her reaction feels genuine like I’ve just opened a window into her world.

I throw out the name of one of my favorite series, watching her face light up. “Oh yeah, I love that movie series!” she exclaims, nodding eagerly. “The new one—”

“Came out recently, I know,” I interject, matching her enthusiasm. “I’m thrilled, too. Have you seen it?”

She shakes her head, and I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

“Good,” I say, leaning forward slightly. “I was wondering if you’d want to come by sometime and watch it with me.”

Her answer is immediate and unguarded. “I’d love to. I have a family dinner tonight, but I could tomorrow night after work?”

“Great,” I say, warmth creeping into my voice. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” she replies. Her lips part like she’s about to say more, but a clatter from another table interrupts her. She glances over, her expression a mix of professionalism and mild exasperation.

“I should probably go take care of that,” she says, half-apologetically.

“Please do,” I reply, chuckling as I bring my fork to my mouth. “We can talk tomorrow night.”

“You’re right,” she says, nodding with a grin. “I’ll be back when your meal is ready.”

As she strides off, I settle back into my seat, finding myself already looking forward to later. There’s something about Grace—something refreshingly real.

Chapter Three

Grace

Sundays are always slow at Vito’s, so I manage to sneak out a little early. That means I get to spend more time with my parents, something I’ve been looking forward to all day. It’s been a few days since I last visited, and they’ll probably scold me for not coming around sooner. They act tough about it, but I know they miss me the second I walk out the door.

The moment I step into the kitchen, the smell of roasted chicken greets me. My mom stands at the stove, stirring something in a pot, while my dad sits at the table, reading the paper like it’s the ‘50s.

“Hey, kiddo!” Dad’s face lights up as soon as he sees me, and he folds the paper in half. “Finally decided tograceus with your presence, huh?”

“You’re hilarious,” I reply, rolling my eyes as I lean down to kiss his cheek. “Something smells amazing, Mom.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Mom quips, turning to give me a quick hug before checking on her pot. “How was work?”

“Same as always,” I reply, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. I hesitate for a moment, then add, “Except I’ve got something to tell you.”

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