Page 18 of Books and Hookups

“Space?” I repeated.

Leo put his finger over his lips. “Shh, Zio. We aren’t telling Danny, remember?”

“We aren’t telling Danny what?” I asked.

“About the kitchen space next to my dry cleaner’s,” Gio said. “It’s only got a couple of tables out front, but the kitchen is—” He kissed his fingertips.

I wrinkled my brow. “Why do we care about a kitchen?”

“For Leo’s catering business!”

My brother smacked his hand over his eyes. “Gio?—”

“No, no.” Gently, I wrestled the glass from my uncle’s hand. “Leo’s selling his food truck and buying a bar. With me. Not a kitchen. Isn’t that right, Leo?”

“That’s the plan.” He upended his glass into his mouth, catching the last drops. “I’ll get you some water, Uncle Gio.” He trudged toward the kitchen.

Gio weaved on his feet. “I could’ve sworn Leo said he wanted to look at the space.”

“I’m sure he was only being polite.” I flung my arm around him in a half-hug.

“Or maybe”—his red-rimmed eyes went sharp—“he was only being polite toyou.”

No. Leo and I had talked about buying the bar from practically the day I’d started working there. It was what we both wanted. “I love you, Gio, but you’re drunk.”

“Maybe I am,” he said, “but your brother’s never going to be happy running a bar.”

It’s literally all we’ve talked about since Barb mentioned retiring five years ago,I didn’t say. In my family, you didn’t argue with your elders even when they’d had too much grappa and were spouting nonsense.

I wished there were a way for Leo to keep his food truck, but I’d run the numbers a hundred times, and we came up short every time. He had to sell it if we were going to have the money before Barb went on her world cruise in November.

“He’ll be happy if we’re running it together,” I insisted because I believed that. I had to.

8

Better than a Vibrator

I built this place on sweat and bullheadedness. My legacy is the work ethic I instilled in my staff along with the idea that hard work can create something truly great. If our guests have fond memories of their excellent dining experiences here, well, that’s all the legacy I need.

Olivia Stein, restaurateur

LUCIE

Idreamed I was asleep. A funny dream, I know. I was aware I was dreaming as I snuggled into a cozy bed with sheets as soft as an old T-shirt and a nest of pillows that felt like a cloud. It definitely wasn’t my bed. I was too busy working to buy luxurious bedding. In real life, I had exactly one set of sheets and two pillows, and they were just okay. Nothing like the magnificent bed of my dream.

Dream? Shit!

I startled awake and wiped the drool from my chin with the hand it rested on.

“Hello? Hello?” The tinny words came from my phone’s speaker. Thank god I hadn’t set this up as a video interview.

“I’m here. Sorry, lost the connection for a second.”

“Funny because it sounded like snoring,” the city councilwoman said.

I winced as guilt slashed through my stomach. “How strange. I think I caught everything you said though.” The recording indicator was still on, so I’d be able to play back the part I missed. I glanced at my bedroom door. If only I slept as well in there. Maybe the dream was my subconscious telling me it was time to upgrade my mattress.

“Good, because the education of our city’s children is the most important thing we can do for our future. Don’t you agree?”

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