Page 22 of Delicious

Marco revised his earlier thought. Dario had just as much of an iron hand as Luca, he was just less obvious about it.

“Did you try the cheesecake?” Marco was trying to be subtle about it, but he wanted to talk tosomeoneabout how good it had been because he was still thinking about it, the flavor of it still lingering on his tongue.

“No?” Dario looked concerned. “Was there something wrong with it?”

“The opposite.”

“It’s always good.” Dario straightened another glass. Pulled out his phone and made a note—probably to remind the bussers that when they were re-setting the tables to make sure their lines were straight.

“This was better, somehow. The same, and also different, and alsomorethe same.”

Dario looked up at him, and Marco was suddenly and painfully aware that he was ranting.

“Is this going to be another Izzy? Or James? Or Meredith? Or?—”

“Enough,” Marco said stiffly. He didn’t need to hear a recitation of his love affairs—or in Izzy’s case,one-sided love affairs. “James and Meredith happened over fifteen years ago, and Izzy was . . .well, it wasn’t like that.”

“I’m just asking. I thought Marcella talked to you.” Dario’s tone was mild. Unaccusatory.

Marco lowered his voice. “Marcelladid. Marcella also recommended I hire her old friend Andrewknowingwhat he looks like?—”

“What does he look like?” Concern blossomed in Dario’s gaze.

“Well, you’ve seen him now, and you know what heusedto look like, and Marcella still recommended him, all while lecturing me on how fucking irresistible I apparently am. Maybe she should’ve thought about that before . . .before . . .” Marco shut his mouth because evenhecould tell he’d said too much.

“And we call Gabe the emotional one,” Dario teased.

“I’m notemotionalabout this,” Marco straight-up lied.

He was still thinking about —stilltasting—that goddamn cheesecake. Food always made him emotional, and that cheesecake had made him feel itall.

“So he grew up hot. Marco, you are thirty-seven and a great chef who runs this restaurant brilliantly. Don’t tell me that a guy you knew in high school showing up hot is able to derail you like this.”

Marco knew what his little brother was doing, and yet he stood up straight and played right into his hands anyway. “No, no,no. Of course not. I’m only interested in the cheesecake.”

“Right,” Dario said. The asshole was smiling now.

It was official. First Marcella and now Dario. His whole family had it out for him.

“I’ll just . . .go ask him about it,” Marco said.

“Maybe you should,” Dario agreed.

But Marco didn’t. When he returned to the kitchen, it was clean and almost dark for the night. He saw a light still on in the back pastry kitchen and assumed Andrew and Daniel were finishing up for the night, too.

Andrew had said he was just out of a bad breakup.

Maybe he wouldn’t be affected by Marco’s Moretti-ness, intended or otherwise.

But Marco was affected by hisAndrew-ness.

So he stayed away.

ChapterFour

Night Two

Marco slept like shit.

---