Page 31 of Falling for the Wrong Guy

“That will be a big help.” We ate in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, at least almost silent. Linda was humming a Taylor Swift song as she filled the shakers.

“What made you decide to start a café?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every morning when the alarm goes off at five. It was always in the back of my mind, I suppose. I earned a business degree and quickly discovered that working in a financial office was just one step above working in a morgue on the boredom scale. Although the water cooler chats were probably much livelier than the morgue ones.”

He pointed at me with his sandwich half. “Aha, I was right about you then. Pencil skirt?” he asked hopefully.

I smiled and reluctantly nodded my head. “Well, I confess that most everything I thought about you was wrong,” I said. “I instantly assumed you were here to cause trouble, and then those two men came into the café and it seemed that you knew them—” I slowed my words when I realized his smile had disappeared. “So, you did know them?”

“Not really. I knew why they were here. They’re gone now, by the way.”

“Then can you tell me why they were here or why you were searching the cove at night?”

He stared down at the food on his plate. “Probably best you don’t know.” His face popped up. “It’s nothing bad. It’s also nothing good. I’ll leave it at that, if that’s all right.”

“That was probably worse than no answer … but I’m too pleased with your work to care right now.” I picked up the rest of my sandwich. “After a month running both the front and back of the restaurant, today felt like a vacation. Thank you.”

“I’m the one that needs to thank you—for giving me a chance.” He peered up from his plate. “What changed your mind?”

“To continue the tradition of the non-answer—not entirely sure. However, my sisters were pestering me to hire you.”

“Your sisters are really something. Ella said you all grew up in that cottage. What a cool place to live.”

“It was nothing short of magical. A little small, mind you. We slept three to a bed. But we didn’t mind. Although Layla was nicknamed Hurricane Layla because she would spin her arms and legs all night—like a hurricane. Ella once woke up with a bloody nose because Layla’s little fist slammed right into it.”

Dex winced. “Ouch. Not a fun way to wake up. You said you lost both your mother and grandmother. That must have been hard.”

I realized as he asked it that Kellan had never asked me about my grandmother or my mother. He knew they were both gone only because I mentioned it in passing, but he never asked anything more about it. He knew that Nonna mostly raised us, but he never asked when or how our mom died. My throat always tightened whenever the subject came up. It took years before any of us could talk about our mom’s death.

“I was ten when our mom died. Layla was only five, and she has mostly gossamer thin memories of her—enough to hold onto but with few details. I, on the other hand, remember so many details—how she used to put a little note in my lunchbox when I was upset about something at school like a test or a friendship. She’d tell me I was her fiery-haired warrior and that I could conquer anything. She’d make me pancakes that were shaped like bears, and she loved to paint her nails pink. For some reason, her soft, beautiful hands with their pink nails is a vision that has stuck with me all this time. She got sick with a fever. My dad took her to the doctor, and they sent her home with antibiotics, but instead of getting better, she got worse. Some sort of bacterial infection is what my dad told us once we were old enough to understand more. Dad was always traveling for work, and he was entirely out of his element trying to take care of five little girls. Nonna stepped in to fill the void and our hearts. She’d lost her only daughter, so we helped to fill a void, too.”

Dex was a great listener. “Well, after having the pleasure of dining with the Lovely sisters, I can confirm that Nonna did a great job. And I guess you stepped into her shoes after you lost her.”

I smiled. “Yes, and they were really big shoes to fill. But we got through it together, and I couldn’t imagine life without my sisters.” My phone rang, interrupting a nice lunch break. “Speaking of sisters—” I glanced at my phone. “Oh, it’s not my sibling. It’s yours.”

Dex shook his head. “Not sure if you can use that label for us.” He looked at the phone that was still ringing in my hand. “You gonna answer it?”

“Not sure.” I sighed and rubbed my thumb over the screen. “Hey, Kellan.” I hadn’t meant it to sound so unenthusiastic. It just came out that way. I walked into the office.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d answer,” he said glumly. “I’m still trying to figure out what happened last night. Declan always has a way of?—"

“No, Kellan. This isn’t Dex’s fault. The last few times we’ve been together—something has just felt off.”

“I told you it’s because you’re running yourself ragged by trying to do too much at the café. I promise that the person I’ve found is very skilled, and I think you’ll like her. I set up a video-chat with her this afternoon. The three of us can hop on and?—”

“I’ve hired someone.” It wasn’t a solid decision yet, but based on today’s performance I was definitely leaning toward hiring Dex.

“You have? This is sudden. Tell me about them. What are their credentials?”

I’d opened the can of worms, I decided to let them all out. “It’s Declan. I hired your brother, and let me just say, he did a fantastic?—”

The cold silence coming from his side ended before I could finish. “I forbid it. No way. You need to tell him you’ve reconsidered.”

“I beg your pardon? This is my restaurant, and one of the reasons I decided to give him a chance was because he is your brother.”

“No, Aria. Let him go. It’s only been one day, so it won’t be a big deal. You can’t hire him, and that’s because heismy brother, and I know him better than anyone.”

My voice was getting louder to match his. “How is that possible? You’ve told me yourself that you two haven’t been close since you were little boys.”

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