Chuckling, he takes a few steps, checking something on the back of the black town car that pulls up in front of us.
“I don’t think you’re a diva,” he starts, opening the car door for me then ducking down into the doorway after I’ve settled in the seat. “I think you had a panic attack. I also think I need a cheeseburger. I know I told you I’d take you home, and if that’s what ya want, that’s where you’ll go. But, if you also happen to want a cheeseburger, I wouldn’t mind the company, is all I’m saying.”
I don’t want a cheeseburger.
I do kind of want a milkshake though.
“I know the perfect place.”
11
Ryan
In the twenty minutes it took to get from Boston to Colwood, Carina’s breathing steadied and her hands stopped shaking.
Now, as I rush to open the door of the diner for her, Carina gives me the first genuine smile I’ve seen all night, her body rising and falling as she sighs with ease.
“Carina!”
No sooner does she step over the threshold that she’s met with a warm greeting of familiarity. The older man behind the counter immediately places the pot of coffee in his hands onto the bar, making his way over to us without hesitation. His hair, cut clean and short, is white as snow, the wrinkle lines in his forehead and under his eyes giving the implication that he has a few years under his belt. The once-white apron is covered in sauce stains, with spatter spots from oil or grease leaving dark spots throughout the fabric.
“Hi, Papa,” she beams, before turning to me. “Do you mind sitting at the bar?”
“Not at all,” I tell her, letting her lead the way.
I’m starting to think her decision to come here might have been biased. Somehow that makes it better—makes it mean more.
Not that this means anything, I remind myself.
I’ve always been level headed and called the shots myself to avoid getting hurt. With my job, I don’t have time for feelings. And yet, here I am, allowing my feelings to dictate an entire evening.
I want to say it’s because I’m just doing my job as Halfway Homemade’s producer, but I could have given her access to the car service without having to come with her. I could have stayed in Boston with Alfie. The whole fucking reason we were out tonight was so my brother could take his mind off the sudden shit storm that is his life.
And, I left him there.
With people he didn’t know, because the thought of sending Carina off without making sure she made it back to Colwood safely made me feel sick. It wasn’t an option.
I put her before my family.
I’ve never done that. With anyone.
Before taking my seat on the red leather barstool, I extend my hand to the older gentleman watching me cautiously.
“’Ello, sir.” I nod as he takes my hand in his. “Ryan West. I work for Carina.”
The light, airy sound of Carina’s laughter fills the diner.
“Don’t let him fool you, Papa,” she says when her laughter subsides. “Ryan is the producer for Halfway Homemade. I work for him.”
“Bob O’Sullivan. Or, Papa, if you’re my grandkid.” He chuckles, turning his attention back to me. His tone changes as he asks, “Isn’t it a little late to be conducting business?”
The question is more of a warning, his eyes narrowing as he studies me.
It makes sense now why Carina wanted to come here.
I can only imagine what this looks like. During the car ride back, Carina had shivered. Not thinking twice, I pulled off my sports coat and gave it to her. Not feeling the need to look entirely proper for burgers, I had unbuttoned the sleeves of my shirt, pushing them up to my elbows. At some point, Carina pulled a hair elastic out of the back pocket of the little black skirt she was wearing. The soft, blonde curls that had sat on her shoulders earlier were now pulled up in a tight bun on the top of her head.
“Archer and Valentina convinced me to go to a club in Boston tonight,” Carina begins to explain. Thankful for the interjection, I take my seat as she goes on. “Ryan and his brother were there too, and Ryan noticed I was having a hard time being there. He offered to give me a ride home and now, we’re here.”
Accepting that answer, he turns around to grab two red plastic cups from the shelf behind him. “Well, in that case, what can I get you to drink?”
“Black raspberry milkshake, pleaseeee!” Carina grins, earning a chuckle from her grandfather.
“I should have known,” he says before turning his attention to me. “And for you?”
The little bell that rang when we had opened the diner door, rings again from behind us, and I turn my head. Maybe it’s because it’s eleven o’clock at night. Maybe it’s because I’m in a town I don’t know, but the instant need to make sure Carina is safe surprises me. I shake off that fear immediately when I see a woman with platinum blonde hair and bright red lipstick walk in.
Her eyes, lined with dark blue makeup, widen in realization as she walks behind the bar. “Oh my goodness,” she says, grabbing one of the aprons that hang before the food prep areas. “Carina, my love! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating? I saw your ma’s post on Facebook. Congratulations!”
“Hi, Janice,” Carina says with a smile, wiping her face with her napkin. “And thank you.”
“Who do we have here?” Janice asks, stopping in front of us with her eyes on me.
“Ryan West,” I answer, running my hands across the paper napkin before offering her my hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus!” Janice calls out excitedly. Leaning closer to Carina, she lowers her voice—though, not enough I can’t hear her. “You didn’t tell me you bagged a British fella!”
Thank God there’s no food in my mouth because I would have choked on it.
“Janice!” Carina gasps. She turns to me in a panic and I shrug, my body shaking as I silently laugh. “Ryan is my boss. He works for Food Network.”
“Riiiiiight,” Janice says with a knowing nod, looking back and forth between the two of us. “Because I take all my bosses to my grandfather’s diner at eleven o’clock at night.”
“Well, considering I’m your boss, that would be a little weird,” Bob responds with a laugh, handing me and Carina our milkshakes. The ringing bell, implying someone else has entered the diner, chimes behind us. Carina’s grandfather’s face lights up with more laughter. “Well, I thought I was going home.”
His face twists in confusion, causing me to turn around and see what has his attention.
Passing us one by one, Valentina, Archer, Luca, and Giovanni all take a seat at the bar on the other side of Carina. My brother, bringing up the rear, takes the open stool on the other side of me.
“What are you guys doing here?” Carina asks, the shock in her voice matching how I feel.
“Well, we went out to celebrate you, right?” Giovanni starts. “You’re here. So, we are too.”
“But I didn’t tell anyone where I was going,” she says, turning to me.
“Don’t look at me!” I laugh, raising my hands.