Page 67 of The Cupid Chronicles

And that’s when I realized I’d always be an in-betweener. The biological child caught between two families. A disconnected connector.

After years of therapy, I finally realized that’s why I’ve spent so many years trying to fit in. I’m trying to fill a void, and I try hard.

I give everything I can, as soon as I can, in the hopes that “this relationship will be the one that sticks,” only to have that become the thing that ruins it. People don’t like to be smothered, even when that smothering is well-intentioned.

Family?

I’m not sure I know what that feels like.

So, when Val says it so flippantly—welcome to the family—like it’s not a big deal, something inside me twists.

I still want that. I still want to belong. And against my better judgment, the tiniest seed of hope is planted.

“So . . .” I look for a way to start a conversation. “What’s family dinner?”

“Oh! Right! Sometimes I forget that normal people don’t know our traditions.” She leans up against the counter. “Before the chaos of dinner service begins, we come together as a staff—as a family—and eat a meal together.”

“No way! I’ve never heard of that. Do other restaurants do it too?”

“If they don’t, theyshould,” Val says with a smile. “We share recipes, try new things, and rotate who cooks every day of the week. Gives us a chance to impress Chef.”

I look around at everyone tying on aprons, wiping down prep surfaces, taking positions.

“Pick a seat,” Val says. “We’ll be ready soon! You’re in for a treat because tonight is Matteo’s turn to cook.” She leans in. “It’s always the best when Matteo cooks.”

I smile, and before she turns to go, I ask, “How long has the restaurant been here?”

Val pulls a kitchen towel out from under the waistband of her apron and uses it to dry hands that I didn’t know were wet. “About four years. It was a rocky start, but Matteo was never going to let it fail. It matters too much to him.”

“He’s really good, isn’t he?” I ask.

“You have no idea,” she says. “And I know he’s got that whole gruff, rude thing going on, but he’s one of the kindest, most thoughtful people you’ll ever meet.” She leans in. “Plus, he’sneverbrought a woman here for family dinner. It’s nice to see him back out there!”

“Oh!” I hold up my hands. “It’s not like that, no, we’re not?—”

She dismisses my protest. “I know. But his food has a way of changing people’s minds,” she says with a glint in her eye, tucking the towel back under her apron. “Just know that he’s worth the work it’s going to take to knock down the huge brick wall he’s built around himself. He’s been through a lot.” She pauses, nodding to herself, as if thinking about it, then smiles. “But he’s one of the good ones.”

I glance across the room just as Matteo looks up from where he’s working. He straightens, clearly aware that our conversation is not about food. I want to ask Val all the questions—what’s he been through? Why the brick wall? How do I knock that down?

But I don’t ask any of those things. Instead, I flash her a smile and say, “He’s just helping me with a project, that’s all.”

She studies me, then smiles. “Okay. We’ll go with that for now.”

She’s quick.

My eyes flick over to Matteo as Val walks away. He studies me for a few seconds, and I realize that I wanthimto be the one to answer all my questions. Ideally, while he cooks.

I watch for a few minutes as the hustle and bustle reveals itself as perfect, routine choreography. To an outsider, it might look like chaos, but it’s obvious that everyone has a job in this kitchen. They move in harmony, each filling in any gaps that might be left in the fray.

They have a shorthand way of communicating, too, foreign to me, but it probably comes from years of working together, of knowing each other.

And in the midst of it all, one thing is certain—Matteo is in charge.

It looks like they’re prepping the food for dinner service at the restaurant while he cooks for the staff. It’s a wonder to watch.

They carry on conversations, taste bubbling sauces, pinchthis spice into that bowl, pausing to respond to Matteo as he gives instructions or to get his approval on various things along the way.

Nicola and a big guy work behind one counter, while Val mixes up a salad dressing from scratch. A guy someone calls Dante chops vegetables, and a few other people move in and out of the space.

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