Page 16 of Love and Lies

“I grabbed a quick bite at Le Charlot earlier.” Le Charlot was a cute restaurant around the corner that a lot of people in our circles frequented, so it didn’t fall into the “Oh my God, you can’t be seen in there” category.

My mother nodded in approval, and I gave an inward sigh of relief that I’d gotten away with my white lie. But then my stomach betrayed me with a rumble so loud that she raised an eyebrow, and I held my breath. But Mom just smiled.

“It really must have been just a quick bite,” she remarked. “We only had canapés at the reception, too—shall we order something in? It’s Sunday, so let’s not worry about trying to be healthy.”

I grinned. “Sounds good.”

“Just let me go and get changed.” She was almost at the stairs when she turned back to me. “I really am sorry about Valerie’s bedroom, darling. We wanted to tell you before you got here, but then you arrived a day early and somehow that confused the whole issue.”

“It’s okay, Mom. Maybe it really is better this way.” It wasn’t—I’d have given anything to have some of Valerie’s stuff. But I couldn’t say that, couldn’t let my grief show in this house. As soon as my parents got wind of what I was planning, they’d put me on a plane straight back to England. I was going to have to lie, to act my ass off—which I was good at, but then, I’d never had to do it in front of my family. I got no satisfaction from it, but I would do anything to be able to stay. Absolutely anything.

I owed it to Valerie.

8 Jessiah

It was a damn cold night and I was very glad, after a short walk, to see the light-up sign above the door of the restaurant on Mulberry Street. It was a Tuesday evening, and I could see through the large front windows that the place was full to bursting, but I wasn’t worried about getting a table. There’d been a place reserved for me here since I was little, and hopefully always would be.

I pulled the door open, holding it for a couple coming out. They looked sated, satisfied, and happy, like everyone who ate here. That was exactly what I needed too, after having spent the whole day out and about with one of my clients trying to find him a suitable food truck—which meant crawling around freezing-cold delivery vans with a flashlight, checking the plumbing and electric. It hadn’t even come to anything in the end.

“Jessio!” Taddeo Pagano beamed as I stepped inside and was immediately engulfed in the restaurant’s warmth, its cozy atmosphere, and the aroma of Italian food. Two seconds later I found myself once again in Taddeo’s hearty embrace, before he took my face in his hands and looked me up and down, full of concern. “You’ve lost weight, my boy.”

“You’ve been saying that since I was five years old, and not once has it ever been true,” I said. “But don’t worry, I won’t say no to anything you put in front of me, even if I explode.”

“Now, you see, that’s all I wanted to hear.” He laughed. “You’re fit enough to handle a few extra calories.”

As if I’d ever counted calories. “Is Thaz here?” I asked.

“Yes, he’s in the back, at your table. Can we talk shop for a minute, later? Leonora’s been chewing my ear off about modernizing a few things in the kitchen.”

I gave him a look. “You don’t need my permission, you know that. I trust you. Just tell Leo she can send me the bill.”

After he’d died, I’d inherited my dad’s F&B businesses, becoming the rightful owner of a dozen different restaurants—including Bella Ciao—when I was still a teenager. A trustee had managed everything until I came of age, but since I left for Australia shortly after my eighteenth birthday, I’d kept the trustee in place. When I came back, though, I’d taken on the responsibility, because I knew it’s what my dad would have wanted. But that didn’t mean I had to supervise Taddeo and Leonora’s every move.

“No, that’s not how it works,” the Italian persisted. “I tell you every time: his whole life I used to discuss these things with your father, and then with the trustee—I want it to be the same with you.”

“Okay, then, let’s talk later,” I conceded. “But for now I’m going to find Thaz, or he’ll start complaining about my keeping him waiting again.”

“Go on. I’ll be with you as soon as the rush is over.” Taddeo grabbed a couple of menus and departed for a table by the window at the front of the restaurant.

As for me, I made my way past the bar, greeting the staff, and went into the back, where additional tables in cozy little nooks offered a little more privacy. The restaurant was completely different from my New York projects—a little old-fashioned, very traditional, a far cry from the latest culinary trends. But I didn’t mind at all. Bella Ciao was a little slice of home, and had been ever since I used to eat here with my dad as a kid—at exactly the same table that I was headed for now.

“There you are.” Thaz stood up and went in for a bro hug. “Late, as usual.”

“Five minutes,” I said, looking at my watch. “You’re just too punctual.”

“I wonder why. Maybe because it was drilled into me that there’s nothing more impolite than being late to a meeting.” He gave a slight bow before he sat down again—a habit that presumably came from his mother, who was Japanese and worked at the embassy.

“Those must be the only manners you inherited from your mom,” I said dryly. The rest of Thaz’s personality clearly came from his all-American dad, a TV sports correspondent.

“That hurts, man.” He put a hand on his heart. “But I’ll forgive you—if you can fix me some of Leonora’s famous tiramisu for dessert.”

“I should be able to swing it.” I hung up my jacket in the coatroom around the corner and took a seat. “Sorry I got there so late on Sunday. That award for my mom took forever. They didn’t serve dessert until after eleven, and then I had to get changed and get over there.” I’d managed to show my face at Down Below, but it was hardly the big entrance my buddy had been hoping for.

He waved my apology aside. “No stress, the opening was a total success. It was good of you to even come by. Especially since you looked wrecked. Society is clearly taking it out of you.”

“Nah, I can handle it.” I always found these events taxing. Playing a role took a huge amount of energy. But two days later, something was still on my mind—and it wasn’t the many meaningless conversations I’d had with the New York upper echelons. It was just that one, in front of the elevators, with a furious girl.

“What’s up?” Thaz asked, scrutinizing the menu again.