Page 30 of The Layover

I kissed Diego on the cheek. “We’ll find her, whomever and wherever she is, but for now… let’s go conquer the world.”

We made sure Eloise was ready to go, though she was already up and dressed and talking about how she was going to have breakfast with Uncle Antonio. I expected a discussion over whether or not she could bring one of her stuffed toys to keep us company, but the fact that she didn’t ask was a testament to how much she was looking forward to the morning.

Ariana would meet us at the cafe a short while into the meeting, and take Eloise for the day, but Antonio wanted to see her as much as she did him.

Antonio Bianchi Junior was my cousin, and president of the biggest tech company in the country. Not that Italy was known for its software innovation, but the business was big globally, too. Thanks in part to his father, but as much to Antonio when he’d taken over a few years ago, after Tony Sr retired.

Antonio had made the contact for us at The Raphael Group, though we’d still had to win the investment ourselves, and he was introducing us today to a woman he said was one of the best social media managers out there.

I was familiar enough with that side of the business to realize that just making a few posts now and then wouldn’t cut it, especially since a lot of our diners would come from people who posted pictures of their food online, and followed it up with praise.

Mila was supposed to know how to leverage all of that to our advantage.

Diego, Eloise, and I headed downstairs to find Antonio already waiting with a brunette who looked about ten years my junior.

Eloise squealed and ran up to Antonio to hug his legs. He ruffled her hair and picked her up. “Hey, Smurf.”

She scowled. “I’m not a Smurf.”

Antonio tugged at the sleeve of her blue sweater. “Are you sure?”

“I’m Sonic the Hedgehog. Zip, zip, zoom.” She squirmed.

Antonio set her down, and Diego snagged her hand before she could race away.

“Sorry we’re late.” I exchanged brief hugs with Antonio. We weren’t late, but propriety insisted I offer the platitudes.

“Nah. We’re early,” Antonio said. “Mila wanted to see the neighborhood and get a feel for the vibe. This is Mila, by the way.”

She extended her hand and Diego and I each shook it and introduced ourselves.

“There’s a fantastic vibe here,” she said as we took our seats. “It’s all going to work great for building on your existing brand.”

Diego sighed and pulled out a chair for her. He scooted it in as she sat. “Our life is not a brand,” he said.

I pulled Eloise into my lap as the rest of us sat as well. She was old enough to get her own seat most of the time, but with the way she was squirming today, and the fact that she was leaving soon, made me want to keep a closer eye on her.

Mila gave Diego a tight smile. “I understand, but you do know that’s not true, don’t you?”

“I do.” Diego sounded resigned.

We’d had parts of this conversation before—a big restaurant, a global experience like we wanted to build, wasn’t just about the food. People would be there as much for the name attached to it as anything—my name. Our names.

Dining with us would be an experience. It would be bragging rights. “We’d love to hear more of your thoughts, Mila,” I said.

She held her phone up and the digital shutter clicked as she took several pictures. As she focused on me, I turned Eloise’s face toward my chest and held up a hand. “No. The neighborhood is fine. The food. The construction. But Ellie is off-limits.”

“Oh, of course. I understand.” Mila didn’t hesitate to point the camera in a different direction. “I’m so sorry. People do already know that you’re fathers.”

“That’s fine. Just no pictures of Eloise, and don’t use her name,” Diego said.

Something we both firmly agreed on. She could do that when she was old enough to make the decision for herself, but our daughter wasn’t a facility for our success.

The waiter interrupted to take our orders.

“Can I have ‘presso?” Eloise asked.

I hid my smile and adopted a stern expression instead. “Not unless we want Ariana to quit.”

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