Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Right, you two lovebirds, get out of here. It’s about to get busy,” Beppe says, not taking his eye off the stove.
“You need a hand?” I ask.
“I need you to go and eat.”
I pull off the apron and Avril and I head back to our table.
“How often do you come here?” she asks. Her eyes are soft and her body seems more relaxed somehow. Maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe it’s me.
“Once a week or so,” I reply.
“How did you find it?”
I never normally have to field questions about this place. “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.”
“I thought you were British?”
“My mum is British. My dad was American. I was born in the UK, then we moved to New York and then when…when we lost the restaurant, we went back to the UK. That’s where I went to university.”
“Where was your dad’s restaurant?” She asks the question like she already knows the answer.
I take a beat, wondering whether I should tell her. But I want her to know.
“Across the street,” I say.
She reaches across the table and slides her hand over mine. “It’s nice that you have this.”
I nod. “I don’t come here to grieve or mope or anything.”
“I know,” she says. “You come here for connection. To your past, to your childhood, to the people here who treat you like a son.”
Her words hit me right in the solar plexus like my chest is a bullseye and her words an arrow. “Yeah. I guess I do.” The food is good in Serenissima. That should be the only reason anyone needs to come here. But Avril’s right, I wouldn’t come as often if I didn’t feel so at home here. I don’t come here to network or “connect with the right people.” Except I come here to really connect with the right people. I come here to be myself. To be treated like a son. To be me.
Avril gets it. I’m starting to think she understands me better than I do.
FOURTEEN
Avril
I’m the first one to arrive at the building on Fifth Avenue. I wanted to get out of Ben’s apartment this morning. He left long before I did, but I got ready and out as soon as possible. It just felt like too much.
“Hey,” Poppy says from behind me. I spin round and give her a hug. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s good to see you.”
“How was the weekend with Ben?” she asks. “I messaged you last night but didn’t hear back.”
“It was fine,” I say, scanning the sidewalks to see if Worth or the realtor is about to arrive. There’s no doubt that this hotel would be a good option if we were going to open a second hotel in New York, which is why Worth is coming to this second viewing. I thought it would take a week to arrange. No such luck.
“Did you bang?” Poppy asks.
“No.” I give her an exaggerated eye roll.
Poppy wants to know if we’ve managed to keep it professional. The problem is we might not have banged, but sex would have been easier in a way. I’ve gotten to know him better over these last couple days. Not just because we talked, but because I’ve been in his space, I’ve shared his world. I understand him better…and I like him.
I really like him.
“He’s hot. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“The entire point of this week is showing him that we can keep things professional.” An image of Ben taking the nail polish off my feet creeps into my brain. Hardly professional. Neither was lying in bed together.
“So, what did you do?”
“Not much. On Saturday, we rescued a cat. Went for lunch.” She doesn’t need to know about the whispering gallery.
“You rescued a cat?”
“Kinda.” I tell her how we were supposed to be going to Ben’s gym, but ended up taking a cat to the vet.
“That’s cute. You think he was trying to impress you?”
I think about it for a second. “I don’t think he would have seen the cat if I hadn’t pointed it out. He would have walked right past it. Not because he’s a bad guy, but just because he would have assumed it had an owner that was looking after it and it would be fine.”
“Are you sticking up for him?” Poppy asks.
“No!” Even to me, I sound defensive. “I just don’t think he did it to impress me.”
She shoots me an I-think-you’re-lying look, just before Worth and Sujoy, the realtor, arrive together, and interrupt us.
“So, this is the place?” Worth says. “Great location.”
There’s no doubt that the location is great for any hotel, but even better for us because it’s far enough away from Hotel on Ninth Street so that it won’t cannibalize any guests who want to stay downtown.
“I’ve walked by this place so often,” Poppy says. “I’ve never even noticed it.”