Chapter 8 — I Won’t Be Another Thing You Buy

The following Tuesday, Rico asked me to stay after my two hours ended.

He did it before Leo began asking, and he made it clear that no was possible.

“I’d like to speak with you. Ten minutes.”

I checked the time.

“I can do ten.”

Leo was upstairs helping Mrs. Alvarez put clean pajamas in his drawer. His idea of helping involved wearing three pairs of socks on his hands.

Rico led me to the terrace.

The study door remained closed behind us.

I was grateful for that.

He leaned against the railing.

“I’ve asked Adler to bring in people to review the companies.”

“What people?”

“Accountants. Outside counsel.”

“Why?”

“To find out what can stay. What needs to be closed or sold. What I need to stop being involved in.”

I studied him.

The words were careful.

That could mean he was trying to be honest.

It could also mean he was trying to leave out the parts I would dislike.

“How much of that is already happening?”

“The review is arranged. It starts next week.”

“So it’s a plan.”

“Yes.”

“Then I hope you follow through.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“I wasn’t asking for a gold star.”

“Good. I didn’t bring any.”

He looked away, but I caught the movement at the corner of his mouth.

“I know I can’t undo everything.”

“No.”

“And I’m not going to tell you I can make all of it disappear by Friday.”

“That would be a very ambitious Friday.”

Rico turned back.

“There are people who won’t like this.”

I glanced toward the house.

“Is Leo safe?”

“I’m taking precautions.”

“That wasn’t quite an answer.”

“It’s the answer I can honestly give you.”

I let that stand.

For once, he had resisted promising something bigger than he could know.

“I want his life to be different,” he said.

“Then keep working on it.”

Rico held my gaze.

“I also want to ask you something that has nothing to do with invoices.”

My pulse changed.

I hated how quickly he seemed to notice.

“What?”

“Dinner.”

I stared at him.

He waited.

“With you?”

“That was the idea.”

“I eat dinner regularly.”

“I’ve heard.”

“You also own the place where I serve it.”

“I remember.”

I folded my arms.

Rico’s expression became more serious.

“One evening. Somewhere you choose.”

I looked through the glass doors.

From upstairs came Leo’s delighted shout, followed by Mrs. Alvarez telling him socks belonged on feet.

I smiled despite myself.

Rico watched me.

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No. It isn’t.”

“Would you like me to ask again?”

“You can ask perfectly well when you decide to.”

“I’ve had practice.”

“With me refusing.”

“With you insisting I use complete sentences.”

I laughed.

His eyes softened.

That made the conversation more difficult.

Because the problem was not that I didn’t want dinner with him.

The problem was that I did.

I moved away from the railing.

“Rico, if this goes badly, I still have to see you.”

“Most people who date have to see each other.”

“I work in your restaurant.”

“You work for Marco.”

“Who works for you.”

He opened his mouth.

I raised a hand.

“And I come here because your son trusts me.”

His expression changed.

“I’m not using Leo to ask you.”

“I know. But he’s part of what happens afterward, whether either of us wants him to be or not.”

Rico looked toward the doors.

I could see him trying to understand the whole problem instead of only the part he believed he could solve.

“If dinner went badly,” he said slowly, “your job would stay your job.”

“You can say that now.”

“I can mean it now.”

“I need to know you’d mean it when you were angry.”

He looked back at me.

“That’s fair.”

The answer surprised me enough that I lost my next sentence.

He waited.

I tried again.

“And your life is complicated.”

“My life was complicated before you met me.”

“I noticed the guards.”

“It’s becoming less complicated.”

“It’s becoming different. We don’t know how much less complicated.”

Rico exhaled.

“No. We don’t.”

For a moment, we stood quietly.

He looked so unlike the man at the restaurant that first night.

Then a guard moved beyond the garden wall, and I remembered both men existed.

“I can sell Il Destino,” Rico said.

I blinked.

“What?”

“If the restaurant is the obstacle.”

I laughed before I could stop myself.

His brows drew together.

“That wasn’t meant to be funny.”

“You offered to sell a restaurant because I won’t go to dinner.”

“When you put it that way—”

“How else would I put it?”

He rubbed his jaw.

“All right. That was excessive.”

“A little.”

“I’m capable of doing things a little at a time.”

“You’ve just offered contrary evidence.”

He laughed then.

I liked that sound far too much.

Leo came downstairs with socks still covering both hands.

He spotted us through the doors.

“Clara!”

I opened the door.

“What happened to your fingers?”

“Gone.”

“Terrible. We’ll need to report that.”

Rico stood behind me.

Leo held out a sock-covered hand.

“Daddy eat.”

“What?”

Leo pushed the hand toward his father’s mouth.

“Sock monster.”

Rico looked at me.

“This is your influence.”

“My monsters have better manners.”

Leo roared.

Rico pretended to retreat, one hand against his chest.

The boy chased him around the sofa.

I watched them for a moment.

Then I collected my bag.

Leo stopped immediately.

“You go?”

“Yes.”

His smile disappeared.

Rico crouched beside him.

“Clara told us she had to leave.”

Leo looked at me.

“Thursday?”

“Thursday.”

He held up both covered hands.

“I get fingers.”

“Please do. I’ll need help with the blocks.”

He considered that and nodded.

Rico walked me to the foyer.

I slipped into my coat without his help this time.

It seemed safer.

“For the record,” I said, “I’m not asking you to sell anything.”

“I gathered.”

“And I’m not saying never.”

His gaze sharpened.

“What are you saying?”

“Not now.”

He stayed still.

I could hear Leo making monster noises in the living room.

“Because of the restaurant?” Rico asked.

“Because I want to see who you are when I’m not arguing you into doing the right thing.”

That landed harder than I intended.

His jaw tightened.

I put my bag on my shoulder.

“I know you’ve changed things. I’ve seen it.”

“But?”

“But some of this is still new. And I don’t want you looking at me like I’m what you get afterward.”

“I don’t.”

“I need to believe that.”

He looked away.

For several seconds, I thought I had ruined whatever had been growing between us.

Then he nodded.

“All right.”

I studied him.

“That’s it?”

“You said not now.”

“Yes.”

“I heard you.”

He opened the door.

The simple act made my chest ache.

I stepped onto the landing.

Then I turned back.

“There’s one other thing.”

His mouth flattened.

“Of course there is.”

“No more inquiries about me. My rent, my shifts, my landlord.”

“I agreed to that already.”

“I’m reminding you.”

“I don’t forget everything you say.”

“I know. You just disagree with a lot of it.”

A faint smile returned.

“So do you.”

I descended one step.

Rico remained in the doorway.

“Clara.”

I looked back.

“I’m changing those things whether dinner happens or not.”

I wanted to believe him.

That was the dangerous part.

“I hope so,” I said.

He nodded.

I walked away before hope could turn into an answer.

At work that evening, Sarah caught me smiling at the espresso machine.

She leaned against the counter.

“What did it say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you looking at it like that?”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s a very selective symptom.”

I reached for a clean cup.

She studied me.

“Is it the house?”

“No.”

“The kid?”

“No.”

She lowered her voice.

“His father?”

I stopped.

Sarah’s face changed.

“Oh.”

“There isn’t anything to oh about.”

“What happened?”

“He asked me to dinner.”

She stared.

“And?”

“I said not now.”

Sarah looked toward the dining room.

Then back at me.

“Did he accept that?”

“Yes.”

Her expression softened.

I hated that she understood how much that mattered.

She touched my elbow.

“Good.”

I turned back to the machine.

Through the open kitchen door, I could hear Marco reminding someone that table eight needed sparkling water.

The restaurant was ordinary again.

My shift was ordinary.

Nothing had been taken from me because I said no.

That should have made me feel relieved.

Instead, when I took my phone out during my break, I checked whether Rico had messaged.

He hadn’t.

I sat with that disappointment until I understood it.

Then I put the phone away.

He was giving me exactly what I had asked for.

Now I had to decide what I wanted to do with it.