Page 48 of Finding You
“He was a big deal on Wall Street, but he missed his mama. Typical Italian boy. So we moved back here.” He smiled at Christian.
Christian rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He also missed his mama and wanted to come home. Typical Puerto Rican boy.” They exchanged a look, and Dante snuggled up to his husband in the booth. They were adorable, and fun, and seemed to have impeccable style. Nora was damn lucky to have such a cool family. I can’t imagine ever discussing my eyebrows with my mother. She probably wouldn’t notice if I shaved them off.
The drinks and conversation flowed freely. Emily arrived late, as usual, and Nora made her take a tequila shot as penance. I discreetly texted Derek so he could be on alert in case things got out of hand. I was well into my third drink—Nora had switched everyone to Moscow Mules—when Lucas Kim appeared at our table. There was a collective intake of breath. He certainly had a presence.
“Dante,” he exclaimed, giving him a bro hug, “just the man I need to see. I have a business trip next week and desperately need a trim.”
I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited. I would love to pick his brain. He was an MIT-educated genius who sold his first company at twenty years old. And I couldn’t help but notice in the well-lit bar just how handsome he was.
But as much as I could appreciate what a fine specimen of man he was, he didn’t excite me like Declan did. He didn’t make my belly flip-flop and my heart race. I was a bit starstruck, but that’s really it.
Dante gave Lucas a megawatt smile. “You know I will always make room in my schedule for you, Lucas. Text me tomorrow and I’ll fit you in.”
“Thanks. I won’t let anyone else touch my hair.”
“Good boy,” Dante replied.
The minute Lucas was out of earshot Nora was spitting venom.
“I can’t believe you,” she hissed at Dante. “Traitor. We are blood now. I let you marry my favorite brother.”
Dante rolled his eyes, and I got the sense this was not the first time they’d had this particular argument. “Nora, he is a wonderful customer who tips incredibly well. All the girls at the salon are in love with him, and he recommended a software update for our billing system that has completely changed the business. I love that guy.”
Nora crossed her arms in a huff.
“You can hate him, but literally everyone else on planet earth loves him,” Dante added.
Nora sat stonily in silence. I wished I knew the backstory here. It must be a doozy for her to hate him that much. But as impressive as Lucas Kim was, I felt solidarity with my friend. She had offered to kick Max Shapiro’s ass for me, so I put my arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
We chatted and drank, and I was finally feeling myself relax. My new friends were loyal and hilarious. I was feeling better than ever. Then, I felt a vibration in my pocket. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen.
It was a text from an “unknown” number that read,Sign the fucking form, Astrid.
My stomach dropped. Who was texting me? And how did this person know I hadn’t signed the waiver? I felt cold and clammy and wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible.
Maggie, who seemed like the type of person who noticed everything, looked at me with concern. “Is everything alright?”
I nodded silently. “I’ll get you a glass of water,” she said kindly.
I sat and sipped my water while everyone chatted around me. What was I doing? Did I really think I could take on Max and the firm? Clearly he knew what I was up to.
“So,” Christian said, tactfully changing the subject, “what should we nickname Astrid?”
I popped my head up. I was definitely feeling the cocktails. “Huh?”
“Christian and Dante give everyone nicknames,” Emily explained. “It’s what they do.”
Nora perked up. “Christian started it as a kid. He used to call me Veruca Salt because I’m a spoiled daddy’s girl who gets whatever she wants. It stuck, despite the fact that it’s no longer applicable.”
Christian coughed into his hand. “Not true.”
Nora continued, “Cece is Tangled, because of her hair.”
I nodded. Yet another movie I hadn’t seen.
“And I’m Von Trapp,” Emily added, smiling.
Christian must have sensed that I didn’t get it. “FromThe Sound of Music? Emily is a hippie-dippie preschool teacher who loves to sing.” That was the truth. I guess it did fit her well.
