“What are we drinking tonight? The sangria is fresh,” she said.
Chloe put a hand in the air. “I’m sold.” She turned to Brooke. “They have the best sangria on the block.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“Two sangrias, coming right up.”
As Salena walked away, Chloe leaned in. “Be sure and tell people you’re a local. Most of the time you’ll get a discount. Even in the retail stores. Eventually everyone will know who you are, but in the meantime . . .”
“Good to know.”
“Perks of a small town in a big city.”
That made Brooke laugh. “San Diego doesn’t feel like a big city.”
“It’s not Rome.”
“Have you been?”
“To Roma?” Chloe used the proper name for the city.
“Yes.”
“Before my father passed.” Chloe looked away, lost in a memory. “I’ve been to Tuscany more. Florence. Which is bigger than San Diego, yet more intimate . . . if that’s possible.”
Brooke sighed into the memories of her travels. “I agree.”
“You’ve been there, too.”
“I’ve been a lot of places. My ex was a travel blogger. Our first year together I think my feet were in America for maybe five months.” It seemed so long ago.
“Sounds exciting. I love traveling.”
The sangria arrived along with a small bowl of olives.
“I want to go to Bali,” Chloe continued. “There is a yoga teachers’ retreat there I plan on attending.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“The restaurant needed staff and it hasn’t felt right to leave. But I’m anxious to do something different. Make my mark on this world.”
Brooke lifted the wine to her lips. “I remember that time.” She took a sip, nodded. “This is really good.”
“You don’t want to make your mark anymore?” Chloe asked.
“Half the time I just want to get through my day without needing a nap.”
“You’re too young to say that.”
For the next ten minutes, Brooke offered Chloe the digest version of the situation with her father and how she was managing his life and juggling hers.
“You’re an only child?” Chloe asked when Brooke was done explaining.
“No, not really. I have a half brother on my mother’s side. And my dad did have a son with a different mother early on, but my dad wasn’t great about taking responsibility, so they have no relationship. I don’t even know him. Couldn’t tell you if he’s alive or dead.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.” Brooke took a sip of her wine. “I have a stepsister. A sister whose mother was my father’s fourth wife.”
“Fourth?”
Brooke shook her head with a grin. “You asked.”
“Oh my God.”
“You know the really crazy thing?”
“There’s more?”
Brooke nibbled on an olive. “I didn’t even know my dad until I was a teenager. My mother moved us to Seattle, cut all ties. He didn’t bother trying to fight to see me.” Okay, this train of conversation needed to stop. All it ever brought was grief and sorrow. “Enough of that.”
“Damn, Brooke. That sucks. I can’t even imagine. And yet you’re still doing so much for him.”
“I’m all he has,” she explained. “And he’s been a decent father as an adult. He wasn’t there for me growing up, but he’s been around since.”
Chloe reached out a hand, set it on top of Brooke’s. “Family is the most important thing.”
“Some families.”
“What about your mother?”
Brooke lifted her glass, changed the subject. “Maybe we should grab an appetizer with these.”
Chloe cringed. “Bad topic?”
“There isn’t enough sangria in all of Little Italy to discuss my mother.”
She leaned back. “The bruschetta here is good. Not as good as ours, but it will soak up the wine.”
A second glass of sangria in hand and the restaurant had picked up, along with the noise level.
For the first time in weeks, Brooke felt truly relaxed. She hadn’t even checked her phone. Just the thought had her reaching for her purse, and she stopped.
No.
Someone would call her if there was an issue.
With her head slightly buzzed from the wine, Brooke ventured into the topic of Luca.
“If it’s not too much to ask . . . what’s your brother’s story?”
Chloe paused as a slow grin spread over her face. “Giovanni?”
Brooke snorted a laugh, picked up her glass. “No. Not Gio. Luca.”
“You like my brother,” Chloe said, point blank.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re asking about him.”
“He’s charming. And has been very helpful. Franny is adorable . . . I can’t help but wonder about her mother.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Save your questions about Antonia for Luca. I won’t say anything about her except that none of us cared for her. And since she’s not here for Franny, I suppose that speaks for itself.”
“I was wondering about that. So, she’s still alive? Franny’s mom?” Antonia. Brooke made a mental note of the woman’s name.
“Yes. And Luca has moved away from that time, but not moved on.”
That shot up a big red flag in Brooke’s head. “He still loves her.”
“God, no. He just isn’t willing to be the flirtatious man he was before he was a father. I was a teenager when my niece was born, but I remember the joy he had in life, the zest. Right after Francesca arrived, he was just as animated, and then all that ended. I couldn’t even tell you why, so don’t ask.”
Brooke narrowed her eyes. “Luca has his stoic moments, but he seems to smile a lot to me.”
“Around you,” Chloe corrected.
“He’s a player,” Brooke concluded.
Chloe tilted her head back, busted out in laughter. “Gio is a player. Bella this and bella that. I don’t think Luca has called a woman beautiful since he was twenty-one.”
Brooke sucked in a breath and held it.
“Francesca. He tells my niece she’s beautiful. And he compliments my mother and me. Family is the most important thing to him.”
And my family is as dysfunctional as they come.
Chloe tilted the last of her wine back and set the empty glass on the table. “Let’s settle up here and go home for the main course.”
“How do you stay thin with all the pasta?”
She laughed. “Yoga.”
Chloe waved at Salena for the bill.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Can I join you?”
“I have a class on Tuesday and Thursday, but I practice every day on the terrace. Around seven.”
“In the morning?”
“Yes. I have extra mats. Come out if you’re awake. You’ll like it.”
The kitchen was popping. Orders were flying in, and Luca was demanding the staff to perform.
And they were smiling.
Happy to be busy.
The past few years had been sketchy. Lots of downtime and half the staff . . . hell, quarter staff. That wasn’t the case tonight.