Table for Two

by Brandy Bruce

  Leo frowned. “She’s right. You know stress triggers the symptoms.”

  “The symptoms are coming regardless. Living life on my sofa won’t help me.”

  Leo tightened his lips to keep from responding. He’d learned from experience that arguing with his father never helped.

  “What are you thinking, then?” Leo asked as calmly as possible.

  His dad sighed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I’ve decided to sign over the Los Angeles restaurant to your uncle. He’s been running it for years now, anyway, and has wanted to buy me out. I don’t see the point in waiting.”

  Leo nodded, thankful for his father’s decision. “Uncle Tony deserves that restaurant. Releasing it to him entirely will free you from the stress of dealing with the finances, overhead—everything. It’s a good decision, Dad.”

  “And I’m signing over both the Franklin restaurant and this one to you. My attorney is drawing up the paperwork to put everything in your name.”

  A sinking feeling washed over Leo. “Dad, I don’t think I—”

  “Your mother wants me to go ahead and do this, Leo, and there’s no reason not to. It’s been my intention all along. Your sister isn’t interested in running the restaurants. She wants you to have them. You can hire a chef for this Romano’s and concentrate on managing both. Or you can continue being head chef here. There are plenty of people in place to help you with whatever you want to do.”

  Leo couldn’t speak. How could he tell his dad that he didn’t want the responsibility? That it was already too much for him? That a million restaurants couldn’t fill the void left by his broken engagement? That between his father’s deterioration and the stress of the restaurants, he’d have nothing left?

  He looked down, silent.

  I will never leave you.

  It was a scripture that he’d learned years ago. And while he didn’t feel any less anxious, he felt relief at the reminder that God would be with him every step of this journey. No matter how difficult.

  “All I can do is try, Dad. If you want to turn the restaurants over to me, I’ll do the best I can. I know the restaurants are your legacy.”

  His father leaned across the desk and covered Leo’s hand with his.

  “Listen to me, son. The restaurants have been my livelihood. Cooking has been my career and one that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. But you are my legacy, Leonardo. You and Isabella. Don’t ever forget that.”

  * * *

  Late Tuesday afternoon, Mandy unlocked her car and threw her purse on the passenger seat.

  “Mandy!”

  Beth, the office administrative assistant, ran to her, a vase filled with wildflowers bouncing in her arms.

  “I can’t believe you’re still here! I thought for sure you’d gone home!”

  “Careful,” Mandy said, noticing the water that had splashed from the vase onto Beth’s arm.

  “Oh! Never mind that. These are for you! They were just delivered to the office!”

  Mandy’s mouth fell open. “Who would send me flowers?”

  “Well, there’s a card—but don’t worry! I didn’t read it.”

  Mandy took the bouquet from Beth.

  “Thanks, Beth.”

  Once in the car with the flowers secured in the passenger seat, Mandy ripped open the card. It read:

  With gratitude,

  Leonardo Romano

  Mandy tried to talk herself out of feeling disappointed.

  He wanted to thank me for the positive review. It’s probably just a courtesy. But couldn’t he have said something a little more personal on the card? Or even, gasp, an apology? All he has to say to me is “With gratitude”? Really?

  By the time she reached her apartment, she was caught between feeling appreciative of the flowers and growling that Leo’s attempt to thank her was as feeble as his attempt at an apology at Myra’s Coffee House.

  Still, perched on her kitchen counter, the wildflowers did look nice. Mandy was still in her work outfit, staring at the flowers when a knock at her door made her jump.

  She checked the peephole and froze. There stood her mother and Samantha. Mandy did a quick scan of her apartment and her heart sank. She’d stayed up late working the past several nights, trying to hit a handful of deadlines that all seemed to come at once. Laundry waiting to be folded lay piled on the sofa. Dishes in the sink needed to be washed. Mail was scattered on the coffee table.

  She was tempted to do a quick cleanup, but another, impatient knock stopped her.

  Mandy threw open the door. “Mom! Samantha! This is a surprise!”

  Her mother brushed past her. With an apologetic look, Samantha walked through the door and leaned over to Mandy.

  “Why haven’t you answered your phone?” she whispered furiously.

  “My phone? What are you talking about?” Mandy whispered back through clenched teeth, a fake smile plastered on her face.

  “Samantha and I were shopping at Park Meadows. We want you to come to dinner with us,” her mother stated as she inspected Mandy’s apartment. Mandy didn’t even have to look at her mother to imagine the disapproving look on her face.

  “It’s been a busy few days,” Mandy said, digging through her purse for her phone. She wanted to kick herself when she saw that she’d accidentally turned the ringer off. She scrolled through her call history.

  10 missed calls

  4 missed text messages

  All from Samantha.

  “Where did you get the flowers?” her mother asked.

  “They’re beautiful,” Samantha added.

  “Yes, but who sent them to you?” her mother repeated, obviously not about to let the question slide.

  “I wrote a positive review for a restaurant so the owner sent me flowers as a thank-you.”

  “That was nice,” Samantha said. Mandy could tell Samantha was dying to ask whether the owner was Leonardo Romano, but thankfully, she didn’t say anything.

  “Good grief, Mandy. When was the last time you swept your kitchen floor? Maybe we should stay here and help you clean up. This apartment looks atrocious,” her mother said as she eyed Mandy’s leftover breakfast on the kitchen table.

  Mandy swung her purse over her shoulder. “C’mon. I’d love to have dinner with the two of you. Let’s go. Have you picked a place? What are you in the mood for?” she rambled as she moved her mother in the direction of the door.

  Twenty minutes later the three of them were seated at P.F. Chang’s.

  “Mandy, when was the last time you had your hair cut?” her mother asked. “I think I can see split ends from where I’m sitting. Do you have a good hairdresser around here?”

  Mandy felt her jaw tighten.

  Let it go. It’s just dinner and then she’s going back to Evergreen. Don’t let her get to you.

  “It has been a while since I had a haircut. I should probably do that soon. Are you getting the chicken lettuce wraps, Samantha?”

  Samantha jumped in. “Absolutely. Want to share an order of dumplings?”

  Her mother shifted to the topic of Brian and Samantha’s upcoming anniversary, so Mandy was spared from having to make small talk and pretending not to be offended by her mother’s critical comments.

  But halfway through the meal, pretending started to get old.

  “Mandy, I’ve told you before that you wear too much black. I know it’s slimming, dear, but it seems like every time I see you, you look like you’re in mourning. You should introduce some color into your wardrobe.”

  Mandy looked down at the black blouse she was wearing. The day before she’d worn a red sweater and gold scarf. Today she’d worn black. Mandy narrowed her eyes.

  “Mom, do you have to—”

  “Where’s our waiter?” Samantha inter
rupted. “I’m so thirsty.”

  “There he is,” Mandy’s mother said and waved the waiter over.

  Mandy took that opportunity to practice the breathing exercises she’d learned during the first, and last, yoga class Ashley had dragged her to.

  By the time Samantha and her mother hugged her goodbye and left for Evergreen, Mandy felt as if she’d battled a silent war. Not quite ready to go home, she drove across the street to the mall. She grabbed a cappuccino and sat in a leather chair by the fireplace outside of Neiman Marcus. It was at times like this that she hated going home alone. She wanted someone to vent to, someone who cared about her feelings.

  But she’d have to settle for a crowd of strangers. With a sigh, she flipped up a handful of her hair and inspected it.

  Split ends. Just like her mother had said.

  Chapter 5

  At five minutes after eight the following Friday night, Mandy sat in her car in the Franklin Street Romano’s parking lot, giving herself a pep talk. Of course Beth would choose Romano’s as the restaurant where their editorial team would celebrate her birthday. Mandy knew she had to go in and comforted herself with the reminder that Leo would certainly be at the Fifteenth Street restaurant, so there was no danger of her running into him. Even though, despite her best efforts, the thought of seeing him again intrigued her.

  Tiramisu. Think tiramisu, Mandy. Leo is nowhere near here. You can go in, have a fantastic dinner, including dessert, and go home.

  But the moment she walked through the door, Mandy got the feeling that things weren’t going so well. The hostess looked overwhelmed and frantic and servers were dashing back and forth between complaining customers and the kitchen. After waiting longer than necessary, Mandy was directed to the table for eight that Beth had reserved earlier. Beth and her boyfriend were already there, along with Mandy’s supervisor, the director of their department and a few other columnists. Mandy sat down.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, watching as a couple nearby asked to see the manager.

  “They’ve got to be short-staffed or something. It seems like a lot of people have been waiting a long time. And I overheard one of the waiters tell someone that they’ve run out of calamari. Calamari! How is that possible? It’s an Italian restaurant!” Beth answered.

  “A waitress dropped a bottle of wine and it shattered all over the floor. That was terrible. She started crying and everything,” Mandy’s supervisor, Ann, said, her eyes on the menu in front of her.

  “I’m sorry for the wait.”

  Mandy looked up as their server began filling their goblets with water. “We’re running short on staff this evening and have had to call in a second chef. But things are getting back to normal and I’m here to make sure that you have an excellent dining experience.”

  “A second chef?” Mandy echoed. “Would you mind if I asked who?”

  The server studied Mandy before pulling out her notepad. “Mr. Leonardo Romano is our chef this evening. I can assure you, he’s the best.”

  Mandy felt her heart rate double.

  While the wait for their orders was long, Mandy didn’t care and could hardly concentrate on the conversation around her. She kept thinking that Leo was in the same building, probably stressed and overwhelmed. And there was nothing she could do about it.

  Was there?

  Of course not. He doesn’t know I’m here, and if he did, he’d probably be more frustrated and anxious, even though I’m not here to critique anything. I just wish I could help in some way. Why do I care? It’s not like this has anything to do with me. It’s not like he has anything to do with me.

  Two hours later, her coworkers were packing up to leave and Mandy was stalling, not sure what she was waiting for, but not ready to leave. She told everyone to go on without her as she dawdled in the lobby.

  “Miss? Can I help you?” Mandy turned around to see the exhausted hostess. The lobby was finally empty but there was another half hour before closing.

  “I was wondering if I could help—it’s just, well, you seem short-staffed and I’m a...friend of Leonardo Romano’s and would love to help him out here if I could.”

  “Oh, no, we couldn’t—” At that moment, the hostess was interrupted by a crashing sound. She squeezed her eyes closed. “This is not our night. We do not have enough people. Okay, I need to go check on whatever just happened, would you mind just sort of manning the hostess station until I can get back here? What’s your name?”

  Mandy was already taking off her jacket. “I’m Mandy, and I can absolutely watch over things here. You go.”

  The hostess hesitated. “My name is Liz. Nice to meet you. But I don’t know...”

  “It’s okay. Like I said, I can talk to Leo about it later and tell him I insisted on helping.”

  The hostess finally nodded and dashed off in the direction of the crashing sound.

  Fifteen minutes later, Liz returned. “We close in ten minutes so we won’t be seating anyone else, but we have to keep the doors unlocked. Thanks for waiting.”

  Mandy smiled. “No problem. So, what happened tonight?”

  Liz rolled her neck and stretched her arms. “Too many people called in sick or couldn’t make it for whatever reason. The worst problem was when our head chef had to leave. There were so many orders that our sous chef was beyond overloaded. Everything that could go wrong—did go wrong. Things settled down once Leo arrived—since you’re friends with him, I’m sure you know what an amazing guy he is. He came in and—” Liz snapped her fingers “—took over. He’s so much like his dad.”

  Mandy studied the floor, trying to ignore Liz’s comment about her being friends with Leo and him being an amazing guy.

  “What do you have to do after you lock up?” Mandy asked as another couple left with takeout bags in their hands.

  “Normally I would just leave. But since there are so few of us here, I’ll need to help clean up. As long as I don’t have to help clean the kitchen, I’m okay,” Liz said with a laugh. “I do not like dirty dishes.”

  “Can I help you clean up?”

  “Oh, no—”

  “Come on. How much damage can I do? Like I said, Leo’s my friend. He’ll be fine with it, I’m sure. So don’t even mention it to him right now.” Or ever, Mandy thought to herself.

  “We’re cleaned out, Liz!” someone shouted and Liz sighed with relief. She pulled her keys from her pocket and locked the wooden double doors.

  “Do you want to sweep the lobby while I start on the bathrooms?” Liz asked, glancing back at the kitchen. “I can go ask Leo—”

  “I can absolutely sweep in here. You go get the broom and I’ll explain to Leo when I see him.”

  Mandy knew it was the weariness in Liz that gave in. She retrieved a broom for Mandy and headed off to clean the bathrooms. Once she finished sweeping, Mandy took over cleaning all the mirrors in the lobby.

  “Thank you so much, Mandy,” Liz said as they lugged the cleaning equipment to the storage closet. Mandy glanced around nervously, hoping they wouldn’t run into Leo. She couldn’t bring herself to ask Liz whether he’d already left.

  “I was glad to do it. The Romanos are a very special family,” Mandy said honestly. Liz nodded.

  “They really are. I’ve worked here for four years, ever since I got out of high school. And I’ve never met a family like the Romanos. They are so hardworking, so kindhearted and so loyal to each other. They’re the kind of family I wish I’d been born into.”

  Mandy let those words sink in. This was Leo’s family Liz was talking about. More than that, this was Leo—hardworking, kindhearted, loyal.

  Mandy shook off those thoughts and threw her arm around Liz’s shoulders. “I enjoyed working with you, Liz.”

  “Hey, if you ever need a job...” Liz quipped with a grin. Mandy laughed.


  “Keep me in mind.”

  * * *

  Leo decided to do a last-minute walkthrough of the restaurant, just to make sure everything was in perfect shape for tomorrow’s workday. As he walked through the dining rooms, he couldn’t quite decide whether he was starting to feel ownership of the restaurant that was now his, or if his concern was merely the fact that it was his father’s restaurant and a source of pride and joy for him.

  One of the hostesses, Liz, hovered over the host station.

  “Liz, what are you still doing here?”

  She looked up in surprise at him. “I was in my car when I realized I’d forgotten my watch. I’m not working again till Tuesday so I had to come get it.” She strapped her watch on her wrist. “By the way, your friend was such a big help to me tonight.”

  Leo was confused.

  Am I supposed to know who she’s talking about?

  “My friend?”

  Liz nodded, walking back with him to the rear exit of the restaurant. “Yeah, Mandy. She was here during all the chaos and stayed after her party left to help out. She insisted, really. She said that you were her friend and she wanted to help and you wouldn’t mind. I hope I—I mean, we were so short-handed and I thought—” her voice trailed off.

  Leo saw in Liz’s eyes the dread that she’d possibly just made a big mistake.

  “No, it’s fine. But next time that happens, run it by me or Adam first, okay?”

  Liz sighed in obvious relief. “Absolutely. I’m sorry I didn’t run it by you tonight. We were just so swamped and Mandy was so sure you wouldn’t mind.”

  Mandy.

  “She’s really great, chef.”

  Leo didn’t respond but Liz kept chattering.

  “I mean, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. And she pitched in with everything. She wiped down the mirrors and swept...she said that the Romanos are a very special family.”

  “She said that?” Leo said suddenly.