Page 9 of The Breaker
“Actually, Aurelia wanted to know if you needed another hand at one of the restaurants,” Constantine said.
“Really?” she blurted. “Why?” She looked to me for an answer.
“I just thought it would be nice to spend time with you and the rest of Constantine’s family—and to have a purpose. I burned myself out on the photography gig toward the end. Hours and hours I’ve spent sitting at a desk, editing photos, and I just want a break. Something that keeps me on my feet.” Since I was mostly on my ass ... or my back. “You don’t have to pay me or anything.”
She still seemed surprised by the request. “Never heard someone ask to work for free.” She released a quiet chuckle. “But of course you’re welcome to help out. Do you have any restaurant experience?”
“No, not really.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” she said as she gave a wave of her hand. “Waitressing is straightforward, and I’m sure you’ll pick up quickly in the kitchen.”
“Ma, if this doesn’t work for you, please don’t feel obligated to accommodate us,” Constantine said. “The last thing we want is to inconvenience you.”
“It’s no inconvenience,” she said quickly. “If Aurelia wants to learn the ropes, I’ll be happy to show her. Besides, a pretty waitress always brings in more business, so ...”
The next day, I headed to Rosticceria Da Cristina alone, and I was greeted by Constantine’s cousin Antonio. “Hey, Aurelia.” He was warm like his cousin, giving me a big smile and making me feel welcome whenever we were in the same room together. Probably out of loyalty to Constantine, he accepted me without question.
“Hey, Antonio. Are you the one showing me the ropes?”
“Yeah, if you’re up for it. Pizza and arancini can be a stressful gig.” He smiled to tell me he was joking, then nodded for me to join him in the kitchen. “Just shadow me for the day, and tomorrow, you’ll get your hands dirty.”
“Sounds good.”
“Aunt Sofia said you can help prep in the morning and then work the lunch shift next door.”
“Works for me.” I followed him around for the day, watched him prep the pizza dough as the first task to give it time to rise in the dark pantry. Then he prepared the tomatoes and the ingredients for the sauce for the arancini. There were other kitchens in the back, so other people were working as well, probably on different things. “How long have you worked here?”
“My whole life,” he said as he worked the rice balls with his gloved hands. “My mom brought me here when she worked during the day, and then I would help out after school with Con. Food is life and life is food.”
“Good words to live by.” I loved that Constantine had pursued his own interests in life, but he’d never forgotten his roots. He had a lot of love for his family and for the restaurant. I could tell by the way he spoke about it. He was a wealthy man but remained down to earth, and that just made him more perfect.
“Why do you want to work here?” he asked as he continued to work.
“I needed a break from photography. Just wanted to do something different.”
“They said you are working for free.”
“Yeah, I’m not taking money from Constantine’s mother,” I said. “And it’s not about the money. I thought it would be a great way to spend more time with all of you. And I think Constantine needs some time to himself.” We’d lived together for a brief amount of time, but he’d been working for the Republic and I was focused on my photography, so we weren’t together every moment of the day. I worried that he needed his space and having me around too much would strain what we had. And I suspected he needed time to process what had transpired in Rome, and it was impossible to digest the heaviness while constantly in the presence of someone else.
“Really?” he asked with a chuckle. “Because it sounds like he can’t get enough of you.”
A warmth spread through my chest, and then a tingle followed down my arms. I was the luckiest woman in the world, and I never forgot that. Constantine looked me straight in the eye and said I would be his wife someday—like it was a prophecy that would be fulfilled. “Yeah, he’s sweet.”
My shift ended shortly after two, so I headed to Bam Bar afterward. I sat alone at one of the beautiful round tables with the sun in the center and ordered a granita by myself, double mulberry with a scoop of cream. I needed to be mindful of my figure because I was with a freakin’ gladiator of a man, but it was hard to turn down the perfect treat after a long day at Rosticceria Da Cristina. I enjoyed the atmosphere and thought I’d catch on quickly, but it was eight hours of constantly standing, which was a change of pace for me.
As I waited for my granita, I watched the people walk by, and I had to pinch myself to remind myself that this was real—that I was back in paradise. I had been born and raised in Rome, but this place felt like home to me. Every time I felt that joy, it was riddled with guilt because I knew Constantine didn’t feel the same way.
My eyes narrowed on someone in the crowd, a six-and-a-half-foot gorgeous man with dark hair who looked identical to Constantine. I had to blink several times, assuming he was like an oasis in the desert that wasn’t actually there, but he was.
Then he smiled.
Oh, it was Constantine.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He came to the table and leaned down to kiss me.
“Hey. What are you doing here?”
He took the seat beside me and propped his arm over the back of my chair. “Saw you were here after your shift, so I thought I’d stop by.”
