Page 65 of Sister of the Bride

“That’s okay, I’ll just shoot him an email telling him about our meeting and sharing your contact info. I think he’s going to be impressed by what I’ve seen here today.” Charlie pulls out his phone and starts typing, apparently not wanting to waste any time.

“Thank you. Really. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he says, dashing off an email. “There, sent.”

“Wow, okay. Thank you.”

“Well, I wanted to get that sent off so that when I ask you out for a drink, you don’t think it’s in any way tied to the offer. I don’t want to be, you know, weird or coercive,” he says, and he smiles.

He’s unquestionably handsome, and in any other universe I’d be making plans with him right now. But I’m living in a very weird universe at the moment. One where I’ve seen my best friend’s cock and am constantly thinking about the places he hasn’t yet put it.

“That’s really sweet,” I say. “Unfortunately I’ve got a lot going on right now with the sale and the move, and I’m also planning my sister’s wedding, which is in a few weeks. So I think I’m going to have to decline.”

Not quite honesty, but pretty close. I think Dr. Nora would approve.

“I completely understand. Oh, and just so you know, I’m absolutely recommending that Kelleher acquire Marino’s. I think it would be a great fit for us. So don’t think…” He trails off, grinning again, and watching this sharply dressed, capable man stumble over his words is deeply gratifying if completely uninteresting to me. “I don’t know, sorry, I think I just made it weird.”

“You didn’t, it’s absolutely fine. You were a perfect gentleman, and I’m going to recommend that my mother and grandmother accept Kelleher’s offer. We’re all good,” I assure him.Damn, play hard to get, Pips.But I just don’t have it in me. I really think Mom and Nonna are right. This is not just what Marino’s needs but what the Marinos need. Maybe even myself included.

“Thank goodness. I’d feel like a real ass if I offended you and messed up a deal on a place as good as this,” he says, his cheeks reddening. “You know, I actually met your dad once.”

I freeze, my head cocking. “You did?”

“Yeah. I was working for this godawful catering company, my first job out of Dartmouth. Think college dorm cafeterias and hospital food. Just absolute shit. I was miserable and hoping to find something new, and the National Restaurant Convention was in Boston that year. I think it was maybe eight, nine years ago? Anyway, I was at a networking event and ran into your dad in the beer line. He took one look at the company name on my badge and bought me my beer. Told me I was too young to be that miserable. He actually recommended I look at Kelleher. He knew our CEO from way back, I guess, said he was hoping to turn his place over to us when he retired. It took a couple of years for me to get my foot in the door, but I was glad he put me on the trail. I love this job.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until a tear drips off my jaw and lands on my collarbone. I gasp, reaching up to swipe the wetness away.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Charlie says, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and passing it to me. I use it to dab at my eyes, but I know my mascara is already a lost cause.

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. Because he just gave me the gift of a new story about my dad. I can picture him towering over Charlie, two sweating plastic cups of beer in his hands as he muscled his way through some crowded industry event. Dadhatedthose corporate catering companies, called their recipes cat food and slop. Nothing would have made him happier than making sure a charming, talented young guy like Charlie ditched their corporate asses. He probably did it as much for his own amusement as for Charlie’s benefit. And knowing he was already thinking about Kelleher, planning to leave Marino’s to them…it’s like he’s sitting right beside me on this banquette, patting me on the shoulder, saying, “It’s time, Pepperoni.”

God, I miss him.

“Well, I should probably get going—I’ve got a conference call back at the hotel. But it was really nice to meet you, Pippin. And look for an email from Nate Hawkins about a job interview. He’s definitely going to want to talk to you.” Charlie gathers his bag, shaking my hand firmly before starting for the door.

“Thank you again. Really. I’ve been a little at sea trying to figure out next steps, so it’ll be good to at least get the lay of the land.”

“Of course. We’ll be in touch,” he says.

And then he’s gone, and though the deal isn’t done, it feels close. And I feel…well, I don’t know how I feel. I mean, Ikilledthat meeting. Certainly the adrenaline of having done a good job in an intense situation is making me want to jump six feet into the air. And while the thought of walking out of Marino’s for the last time still makes me feel like I’m being pushed to the bottom of a pool, Kelleher is going to acquire it, which means it will keep being Marino’s. I may have to leave, but it’ll still be here for me to visit, if I can ever bring myself to do that.

And this is what Dad wanted.

I gather up the binders and start ferrying them back to Dad’s office. Funny how I still call it Dad’s office, never mine.

And now it never will be.

My eyes catch on the framed photo sitting next to a pencil cup on Dad’s desk. It’s of Dad standing in front of Marino’s twenty-six years ago, a car seat in each hand and a giant grin on his face. Polly and I are in matching knitted hats as Dad welcomes us to our new home. Polly is snoozing, and I’m screaming like I’m being murdered.

I sigh.

I should call Mom and tell her the good news. She and Nonna have been perusing Zillow but have held off on actually looking at anything until they were sure the sale would happen. Now it looks like they can get with a realtor.

But before I can dial, my phone dings with a new email.

From Nate Hawkins.

Pippin,

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