A few of the local business owners thought the duo was crazy to start up a business now. Hank’s father went so far as to say despairingly that they either had more money than God to throw around or completely lacked sense. Hank didn’t think that. He respected Alice, and if she thought they could make a go of the chocolate shop, he was all for it. Orion had lost a third of the businesses in their small town and he didn’t want to lose more, his own included.
Like most people in New York, he’d lost people to the virus. Alice’s best friend Sarah had been one of them, along with Vinnie’s Aunt Alessa.
She used to make Hank chocolate cannolis on his birthday.
Vinnie’s mom had come down with it too. She’d survived, thank God, but she had a lifetime of respiratory issues ahead of her. Every time Hank saw Mama Gia sitting idle in the front window of her house instead of stirring her famous tomato sauce in her festive kitchen, he wanted to hit something at the unfairness of it all.
Then again, life wasn’t fair.
God, he was getting hot under the collar, so he slid out from the corner booth and faced her. Part of him hoped he might see a flash of excitement and desire in her eyes. He told himself he could handle it if he didn’t. It hadn’t been there at the funeral. When he’d looked, all he’d seen were red-rimmed eyes from her grief, which was only right.
Alice gestured toward Hank, still speaking in Italian, and Vinnie responded with a cheeky Italian gesture Hank knew all too well. It conveyed that basically he was an uncultured clod for not knowing the language of love. Ask any Italian proud of his heritage like Vinnie and he would tell you that he had a leg up over other men because women loved to hear him speak in his native tongue. Hank had seen its effect on women, but most of that was just Vinnie. The man oozed as much old-school charm as Cary Grant.
“Aren’t you going to mime kissing my hand, Hank?” Alice asked in English, holding out her slender arm to him. Piano fingers, he thought, seeing their elegance.
Had she read his mind? He studied her, hoping to see that flash of attraction in her eyes. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he saw there. Delight, sure, but she was a bubbly person.
He wanted to get a reaction from her, some notion of what she was thinking, so he held her gaze and said, “I’m not the gentleman Vinnie is.”
Alice’s brown eyes widened before she blinked rapidly. “Good to know. Although I might disagree.”
Might? That was what she wanted to say? He cocked his brow in response as Vinnie mumbled something under his breath.
He gave his friend a look. “Well, we can all agree that no one but Vinnie could pull off that outfit. If I wore that, I’d look like a mob pimp. Maybe I could even get a part in a Scorsese movie, eh, Vinnie?”
Alice let out a giant gasp, making Hank chuckle. She’d fallen hook, line, and sinker for that joke.
“Don’t listen to him, Alice,” Vinnie said with a laugh. “Marty and I aren’t related. Too bad for me, right? I would make a great extra as a mobster in one of his movies, although no one could beat Aunt Gladys’ husband back in the day. Then again, he was a walking advertisement for Old World Elegance.”
“Since you bought the Marty line, Alice,” he said, reveling in her stare down, “Aunt Gladys isn’t actually Vinnie’s aunt.”
“Duh. I’ve only met her in passing, but Sarah told me about all the other shop owners.” She shook her head as if shaking off grief. “Everyone calls her that because she’s Orion’s unofficial den mother.”
“No one does down-to-earth wisdom and peacemaking like Aunt Gladys,” Vinnie said.
Hank thought she did a little more. She acted as arbiter when little tiffs happened between business owners, usually the knuckleheads in town, Hank’s father included.
“This one,” Vinnie said, pointing his way, “could use one of Aunt Gladys’ fashion makeovers. Alice, don’t you think a man needs more than a flannel shirt and jeans in his wardrobe? Some days I wonder if he’s turned into a lumberjack, especially when he doesn’t shave.”
“Personally, I like lumberjacks,” Alice said. “So manly.”
Their eyes connected again, and he smiled. Manly was encouraging.
“Then Hank here is your guy,” he said, starting to laugh, “and I need to return the chainsaw I bought him for Christmas.”
“Ha. Ha,” Hank said, making Alice and his friend laugh even harder.
It felt damn good to hear Vinnie laugh. His friend had lost so much these last few months. His aunt. His mother’s health. His family’s restaurant. The weight of it had made the grown man cry more than once, while Hank had stood six feet away, his hands clenched, not knowing how to offer comfort.
Thankfully, Vinnie’s spirits were lifting the more days passed. His eternal optimism couldn’t be snuffed out, thank God. Hank hoped the same was true for Alice. Her tears had soaked her mask at Sarah’s funeral, and Hank had clenched his fists again, wishing he could do something to ease her pain. Sarah’s death had shocked them all—she’d been so young, so full of life, and although they hadn’t been close, he’d enjoyed talking to her whenever she stopped in for a beer.
“I need to do some serious investigation into this Old World Elegance,” Alice said, her eyes shifting to Hank. “You don’t know Clifton well yet, but he’s the epitome of that expression. Although I’m not sure if he could rock suspenders like you, Vinnie. Cufflinks, though. Good heavens.” She laid the back of her hand to her forehead as if about to faint.
Vinnie laughed again. “I’ll have to go with him. Everyone’s been giving you two space, what with Sarah passing on. How are you doing really? We haven’t talked since the sale.”
Her hand lowered slowly and the mirth drained from her face. “Honestly? I bawl like a baby sometimes, missing her. It’s hard being in the house, surrounded by all of her things. Other times my heart swells in gratitude when I pass a photo of us. I just put one up in the shop today, in fact. I was so lucky to have her in my life. Only… Dammit, we both wanted more time.”
“I hear ya,” Vinnie said in a hoarse voice.
“Since you asked,” Alice said, her voice extra soft. “Vinnie, how are you really?”
He jerked his thumb in Hank’s direction. “I’ve done some bawling too, but we always pretend it’s that wretched cleaning product we use. My dad used to say that the more tears a man shed, the bigger his heart was. Right now, I feel like I’m competing with the big guy from ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’ It’s hard, seeing my mom so frail—she wasn’t even like this when my dad died ten years ago—and we both miss my aunt. Then there’s the restaurant. Alice, I’m so glad you guys bought it. I know you’ll love the place like we did. Sarah was a great customer back in the day, and we always loved seeing you when you came to town to visit.”
She patted her chest with her hand. “Thank you, Vinnie.”
Both of them had shining eyes, as if they were just this side of tears, and Hank had to take a deep breath to get his own emotions under control. He cleared his throat. “You said you needed to talk to me?”
Shaking herself, she turned to him. “Yes. Would you like to go somewhere private?”