Page 18 of Summer on Sunshine Bay

“It would be nice if my daughter wasn’t the only one who’s invoked it in the past decade,” Eva said, holding the door open for Bruno, who was carrying a tray with several covered dishes and a pot of coffee.

He nodded his thanks. “I’ve had the staff seat customers at the bar and at the front of the restaurant so you’ll have privacy at the family table.”

Eva frowned. “Why? When Lila gets here, we’ll go up to my apartment.”

“She’s here, and so is James. I thought you’d prefer meeting in the restaurant, but if—”

“No, you’re right.” As much as Eva loved her apartment, the lush fabrics and bold colors couldn’t hide the signs that the roof and windows leaked or that the floorboards were damaged. The restaurant showed the same signs of wear, and as Eva walked toward the family table in the back corner of the dining room, she couldn’t help but compare it to Windemere.

But none of that mattered when she saw her daughter, sitting ashen faced beside her father. And all the carefully worded reactions Eva had practiced while in the shower went out the window.

“How could you?” she practically spit the words at James, who stood as she reached the table.

“Mom, Dad—” Lila began, coming to her feet.

“None of this is your fault, darling,” she said, wrapping her arms around her daughter. She pulled back, searching Lila’s pale face. Her daughter had been plagued by a nervous stomach since she was a little girl. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

Eva cast James another damning glare before heading to the bar. She pulled a basket of breadsticks toward her and filled a glass with ginger ale while scanning the front of the restaurant. There were more waitstaff than customers. She waved over one of their longtime servers, Heather, a young mother with twin boys under five. “After you cash out your table, you can take the rest of the night off. Gia and I can handle it.”

An anxious look came over Heather’s face, reminding Eva that it wasn’t only the Rosettis who needed La Dolce Vita to survive, it was also their staff, who were more like family. Most of them had been with them for years.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be paid for the hours on the schedule. Take some treats home for the boys.” Eva put a hand on Heather’s shoulder in response to the question in her eyes, one she no doubt didn’t want to ask. Eva imagined the rest of the staff were also wondering if La Dolce Vita could survive the competition. “We’ll have a meeting in the morning. I have some ideas on how we can turn things around, and I want to hear what all of you think.”

Heather leaned across the bar. “A couple of staff applied at Windemere.”

Her mother was right about people abandoning a sinking ship.

Eva nodded. She might be hurt, but she also understood that their staff had to look out for themselves. “We’d hate to lose you, but if you—”

Heather looked offended. “I’m not going anywhere, and anyone who does is an idiot. No one takes care of their staff the way you do. I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow, and I’ll let everyone in our group chat know. Ten work for you?”

“Thank you. It does. And let everyone know kids are welcome. We’ll set them up at the family table.”

Several of their staff were single mothers who relied on babysitters and family members, who often had to cancel on short notice. As a family of single mothers, the Rosettis knew how tough it was, and they had an open-door policy where children were concerned. There were times when Bruno said they might as well open up a day care.

“The boys will be thrilled. They’ve been trying to get my mom to cancel so they can come to work with me.”

“Tell them I’ll have their yogurt cake and cookies ready for them.”

Heather smiled. “If my mother hears that, she’ll come too.”

Eva was about to say she was welcome to join them when Willow wheeled her pink scooter into the restaurant. Her niece bringing the scooter inside wasn’t a surprise—her last one had been stolen from the restaurant’s parking lot. But seeing her wearing a cover-up over a yellow polka-dot bikini and an inflatable duck around her waist was somewhat surprising.

The few customers they had in the restaurant turned in their seats. “What’s the forecast for tomorrow, Willow?” one of their regulars called out.

“Eighty in the shade with a light wind from the north, Tom,” Willow said, glancing over her shoulder when three twentysomething men followed her inside.

Heather looked at Eva, her eyes dancing. “I have a suggestion on how we can increase business.”

“Don’t even,” Eva said, returning her niece’s air-kiss.

“Bring wine, Zia, and lots of it. We’re going to need it,” Willow said as she wheeled her scooter to the back of the restaurant.

“Go. I’ll bring it,” Heather said, and then went to head off the three young men who attempted to follow Willow, offering them seats at the bar.

Willow had parked her scooter against the wall and was greeting her mother and Lila when Eva reached the table. As Eva set the breadsticks and ginger ale in front of her daughter, Willow turned her attention on James.

“Zio James,” she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek, hitting him in the face with the duck she’d obviously forgotten she was wearing.

---