by Sam Mariano
Now there are four people at the table. Rafe is still alone on the right-most side of the booth, the blonde woman is still seated beside him, but on her other side is a gorgeous, sophisticated-looking man with dark eyes and even darker hair, and beside him is rougher-looking man. One side of his face is scarred, and—
My thoughts freeze as their physical presences begin matching up with photographs in my mind.
Mateo Morelli. Adrian Palmetto.
This is Rafe’s family from Chicago.
And Mateo has a beautiful, blond wife…
I gasp, looking at her with much less murdery eyes. “You’re Mia!”
Her blue eyes widen, like she doesn’t understand what’s so exciting about that. “Yes?”
“You’re Mia, that’s why he—and you’re—you’re married to him.” I look at Mateo, and word vomit just spills right out of my mouth. “I could just hug you. Thank you for being her husband.”
Mia frowns at me, sliding her arm possessively around Mateo like she’s not sure what to make of me, but I better not even think about hugging her man.
Oh, this is rich.
While the three strangers stare at me, Rafe has his head down, laughing his ass off.
I want to yell at him for being a jerk, but I’m too relieved, and I can’t get the smile off my face. When he finally comes up for air, his brown eyes glistening with mirth, I want to jump in his lap, smack him right in the face, and then kiss him. “You’re a jerk. You could have just told me that.”
“I could have, but this was more fun,” he says, still grinning at me like the rogue he is. Now that his joke has run its course, he gestures toward their much fuller side of the booth. “Virginia, this is Mia Morelli.”
“I gathered,” I say dryly. Then, much more politely, I smile at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry about that before. I had a stroke. I’m all better now.”
Rafe smirks. “And this is her husband, my cousin, Mateo. And down there, that’s her second husband, Adrian.”
I lift my eyebrows, but before I can take his words to heart, Mia jumps in to explain, “He’s joking. One husband. Just Mateo. Adrian is his—our best friend. He has a wife. It isn’t me.”
Pointing toward the bathroom, I ask, “Should I wait for her?”
“Oh, no, she’s not here tonight,” Mia explains, apparently the family speaker, at least for tonight. “She’s watching our babies at Rafe’s house.”
Married with babies. I knew that, but the reminder soothes my soul. I want to hug everyone at the table. I mean, I know Rafe does have affection for her, but that doesn’t matter. If she had been his date, that would have mattered.
I look back at that dastardly man and he’s still smirking, his dark eyes shining with amusement. God, he’s such a troublemaker. I want to loop my arms around his neck kiss his perfect mouth.
Shake it off, Virginia.
This is not the first impression I wanted to make on his family, but here we are. I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m just some waitress to them. Still, would have preferred to land on a stronger foot.
Oh well.
I put the orderpad and pen back in my apron. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Rafe has told me so much about you.”
Adrian cocks an eyebrow. “He’s told his waitress so much about us?”
“I’m not just a waitress. I mean, I am, but I’m also a friend of the family. I give all the guys safe rides home when they drink too much. I’m friends with Laurel and Sin, too. Don’t ask Sin to verify that, he’ll deny it. He doesn’t think he has friends. I’m Rafe’s friend, though. Kinda.”
Rafe saves me from rambling. “She’s good people. She spent Christmas with us, so she knows Vince and Carly, too.” Glancing at me, Rafe tells me, “They got in today, too. This city is crawling with my family right now.”
“That must be why Laurel didn’t text me back earlier.”
Rafe nods. “She and Carly went to the party store. Vince and Sin are grilling out for dinner. Laurel invited us, but…” Gesturing to himself and his relatives seated at the table, Rafe says, “It just so happens that not a single one of us should touch food Vince has had access to.”
Adrian nods his head. “Definitely not.”
I nod my understanding, looking at Rafe. “Good call. Vince definitely doesn’t like you.”
Mateo looks mildly amused as he volunteers, “He likes me even less.”
“He would definitely poison you,” Adrian states. “No question.”
Mia rolls her eyes. “He wouldn’t poison any of us. I would have eaten food Vince had access to, but I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, so I came out with these guys instead.”
“Which is ridiculous,” Rafe states, “because if we had a Morelli yearbook, you would be voted most likely to be date raped, and that possibility goes up exponentially in a scenario where Vince is controlling the food and drinks.”
“Oh, stop,” she says dismissively. “He would not date rape me. He has Carly now.”
My eyes widen that her logic behind “he wouldn’t date rape me” is simply, “because he’s not available.”
“You guys are a fun bunch, aren’t you?” I comment.
“In such high demand, we brought our show on the road,” Adrian deadpans. “Are we ordering anytime soon?”
Mia leans forward to frown at him. “Someone is hangry. Want some Goldfish crackers? I always have Goldfish crackers in my purse for the kids.”
Mateo wraps an arm around her and casually seals his hand over her mouth to shut her up. “Yes, we’re ready to order,” he informs me.
I glance at the table, determining where we are in the ordering process. Everyone has a drink, so Felix must have taken care of that. “Do we want to start off with an appetizer tonight?”
Mia nods eagerly, prying Mateo’s hand off her mouth. “Spinach and artichoke dip, please.”
“Oh, good, I wasn’t planning on kissing you tonight anyway,” Mateo murmurs.
“Hey, me and Adrian like it,” she defends. “You’d like it too, if you’d just give up your irrational hatred of Mexican food. It’s probably not even served with tortilla chips here.”
I shake my head. “Crostini. Unless you hate sourdough bread, you’re good. Personally, I recommend our spinach and artichoke dip even if you’re not a big fan of bar food. It’s incredible. I order it for my meal sometimes, that’s how good it is.”
Mia nods, locking their fingers together and bumping her shoulder against his. “See? It’s delicious. Try it, then you can still kiss me and we can have garlic breath together.”
“As romantic as that sounds, I’ll pass,” Mateo informs her dryly, using his free hand to reach for his glass of dark alcohol. I’ll have to ask Felix what he ordered. I don’t like not knowing. Makes me feel like an amateur to ask guests what they need a refill of.
“See, this is why she has a second husband,” Rafe says, sliding his arm around the booth behind Mia’s back. “I bet Adrian will kiss her, garlic breath and all.”
Sighing heavily, Mia shoots him a look. “I really wish you would stop telling people I have two husbands. Sometimes they believe you. Do you know when you came for Easter, Vince asked me if I had an open marriage?”
Rafe snickers. “Poor little bastard. He was just hoping you’d say yes.”
“I blame you,” she states.
“It’s probably fair to blame me,” Rafe allows.
“For everything,” she says, vehemently.
“Everything ever,” he agrees.
“When you introduce me as ‘this is Mia and her two husbands,’ yes, it is your fault that people think I’m open for business.”
Rafe laughs at her deep “Rafe voice” and I find myself wishing I didn’t have so many damn tables. I love seeing him light-hearted and enjoying his family. I wish I could take a seat next to him and watch him interact with them all night. I wish I could be in this booth with him as his date, instead of serving him as his waitress.
Well, damn, that wish is darkening fast.
Before I start to lose the good feeling and sink into missing him, I excuse myself to put in their order.
I’d like to think, hey, maybe someday.
But no.
Maybe never.
25
Rafe
My ordinarily quiet house is overrun with members of my family, many of them much younger than my house guests tend to be. Back in Chicago, Mateo built a playroom for his eldest daughter and it has served the younger ones well. The only playroom in my house is not suitable for anyone under 18.
They also had a nanny in Chicago, but apparently they thought she deserved a vacation from the children, so it’s just Mia and Adrian’s wife, Elise, taking care of them while they’re at my house.
The tiny brunette who kidnapped me last time I stayed at their house has taken to following me around and asking more questions than should be conceivable in the span of a minute.
Suffice it to say, when it’s time for dinner, I’m happy I won’t be eating at home. A sense of peace rolls over me as I walk into my restaurant, sail past the hostess, and head for my booth. I scan the room for Virginia and spot her over by the bar, laughing at that bastard, Felix.
I really don’t like him. I can’t believe I can’t fire him. Now that I’m here, Virginia will ignore him to appease me, but I don’t like the fucking way he looks at her.
She grabs two drinks off the bar and turns. Her gaze hits me and her whole face lights up. She can’t wave since her hands are full, but she smiles and goes to deliver her drinks so she can come take care of me.
I slide Felix a glance and see him watching me. Little bastard. I’d knock his teeth down his throat if it wouldn’t make Virginia so mad at me.
A minute or so later, Virginia makes her way over to me, sliding my drink across the table. “Hi,” she says, cheerfully.
“Hi back,” I offer. “Busy night, huh?”
She nods her head, glancing around the room. “Not too bad. I’m not bored, at least.”
I nod my head, glancing at the menu. There’s little point opening it, so I don’t bother. “I think I’ll go with salmon tonight.”
Reaching across the table, she removes my menu. “Sounds good. Salad or no?”
“Sure, what the hell? Don’t rush the order either; I’m in no hurry to get home.”
Smiling faintly, she slides a knowing look my way. “Is your family driving you crazy?”
“No. It’s just, I’m a man accustomed to living alone, and all of a sudden there are two married couples, both with children…”
“Your house is a zoo,” she surmises.
“It’s not what I’m used to, that’s all.”
“You could go over to Sin’s house.”
“Then I have to deal with Vince’s bullshit. I think I’ll just stay here all night. How’s that sound?”
Her smile is full of pleasure at the idea of having me around all night, but she merely shrugs. “Hey, you own the place, I can’t stop you.”
I consider telling her to eat with me, but she has too many other tables, so I don’t. She goes and puts my order in, brings me my salad, and goes to close out a large party she had before I came in.
Right about the time I’m finishing my salad, she comes over to top off my water and remove my salad plate.
“I have a problem,” I tell her.
Concern flashes across her face and she puts the water pitcher down on the edge of the table. “What’s your problem?”
Leaning back in my seat, I tell her, “I don’t know what to buy a one-year-old little girl for her birthday. Do you think she’d like a nice cognac?”
Now that she knows I don’t have a real problem, she cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at me. “You have a baby. You know babies don’t drink cognac.”
Spreading my arms in an exaggerated display of helplessness, I say, “I think you need to buy Skylar’s present for me. I’ll give you some cash, you do the shopping.”
“No.”
“Come on. It’s fun to spend someone else’s money. You’ll enjoy it.”
“You just said you don’t want to go home,” she points out. “Go shopping instead. You can take care of Skylar’s birthday present and have some peace and quiet. Two birds, one stone.”
“All right. But only if you go with me.”
Laughing lightly, she gestures around the dining room. “I can’t go with you. I’m working.”
As if to prove her point, a woman at one of her tables starts looking around for her. Virginia is a great waitress for everyone, not just me, so she goes and does her job.
Checking my watch to see what time it is, I consider how I can get her out of work. There’s probably a 7 o’clock person, so I could tell them to stay, and tell the hostess to stop seating her. I can have her shift over when I’m leaving, and she won’t even know it.
Yep, that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t know who works which shift, so I slide out of the booth and head to the employee area to check the schedule.
Ah, Christ.
Sighing, I hang the schedule back on the wall and search the floor for Felix. Since they were over by the bar when I came in, I assumed he was tending the bar tonight, but apparently he is the 7 o’clock server. That’s less exciting. Since she went and hired the little prick back, I have to treat him like every other employee, but since he found out I was sleeping her, he has not warmed back up to me at all. He’s just polite enough that I can’t accuse him of being a dick, but with a deliberate sheen of “fuck you” in his eyes every time he meets my gaze.
Plus I’ve reviewed the occasional security footage of them together to see what they talk about, and he openly admits to not liking me when I’m not around.
He’s standing in front of a table, nodding as he assures them he can serve their dish without garnish, that’s no problem. Polite asshole. Everything he does annoys me. I even hate the way he doesn’t use his order pad. Virginia doesn’t either, and it’s fine when she does it, but I want to tell him to use his. He’s bound to fuck up orders if I don’t though, and I’d rather him give Trent reasons to write his ass up, so I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to turn around.
His expression tightens when he turns around and sees me standing here.
“Out on the floor tonight, huh?”
He nods, slowly approaching. “Yep. Gotta go put this order in.”
“Of course. I’ll walk with you.”
I know he’d prefer I didn’t, but he keeps his mouth shut and keeps walking.
To be honest, I don’t know why the little fucker came back. After I waited at his apartment building and put a gun to his head for bringing my ex-almost-girlfriend back to his place, you’d really think the kid would have just opted to take a different job. Yet, here he is, sauntering around my fucking restaurant.
“So, Virginia mentioned she trained you on the floor, huh? How do you like it?”
“It’s cool,” he says. “Virginia’s real good, so it was nice training with her.”
I can’t help smiling at his deliberately obnoxious wording. “She is good, isn’t she?” I murmur. “Well, listen, since it’s busier than projected tonight, the closers could use a little extra help. Trent wanted me to ask if you’d be willing to stay until close instead of leaving at seven.”
He puts a hand out and shoves open the door to the kitchen. My hand shoots out to catch it and I follow him. “Sure, I can stay,” he says.
“Perfect. I’ll go tell the hostess.”
That was easy enough. He’ll be pissed when he realizes he’s filling in so Virginia can leave with me, but it’ll be too late for him to change his mind. That probably won’t work again, but that’s future Rafe’s problem.
Also, I need to talk to fucking Trent about how often that little bastard works with Virginia. Why does he always schedule them together?
I guess it’s probably because she works six nights a week. Maybe I should start telling her t
o take Sundays off. We could do a family dinner at my house with Sin and Laurel, that way I would still see her, but she’d get a night off.
I think after Skylar’s birthday is over and everyone goes home, I’ll do that. To Hell with it.
The petite blonde at the hostess stand smiles when she sees me approaching. I’m not a fan of this one. She started working here after I fucked Virginia, and although she tried, there was no keeping the lid on that. We never openly verified we were together for any length of time, but the staff thrives on gossip, so really as soon as I told Trent to fire Felix for taking her home, it was all over with. I know Virginia has shut down questions about her involvement with me, and avoided directly responding to the rumors, but at this point it has become an open secret. Her unwillingness to confirm it only makes it juicier for the especially bored.
The hostess clearly thinks because I fucked Virginia, I must look for my next lay when I come in for dinner, because she shoots me her best “fuck me” eyes and gets all cute when she says, “Hi, Rafe.”
Bored. So fucking bored. Funny thing is, she used to be exactly my type, but when she looks at me right now, all I see is too much tanner and way too much eagerness. I don’t know why, but I’m bored just looking at her. The more she smiles at me, the more I want to flee. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but she annoys me, and the poor girl isn’t doing anything a thousand other women haven’t done before her.
I’ve never fucked employees anyway, so maybe it’s just because she works for me. The restaurant has always been the one place I ignored beautiful women. They don’t usually annoy me, though. Maybe Mateo’s brood has zapped more of my patience than I realized.
Generic Blond Hostess suddenly says, “Ooh,” and runs her hand along my bicep. “I love this cut. It looks so good on you.”
Oh, fuck off.
Jesus Christ, I need a drink.
Ignoring her, I point to her seating chart. “Slight change to the floor. Stop seating Virginia, she’s leaving at 7. Felix is going to close in her place, so you can give her tables to him.”
