Maria fiddled with her empty cup. “The night before I opened the restaurant I didn’t sleep at all. I thought to myself, ‘what if no one comes.’ It was Jake who told me that my job wasn’t to worry about people coming, but to concentrate on doing what I do well. Making great food in great surroundings. And he was right. You know you’re good at your job, Paige. Do it well, and people will eventually come to you.”
“It feels like a big risk.”
“There’s always risk in life.” Maria reached across the table and took her hand. “When my grandparents came here from Sicily in 1915 they had nothing. They had to pay back the cost of their passage and for years they lived in poverty, but they chose to come because they believed they could have a better life.”
“Now I’m feeling guilty for moaning.”
“You’re not moaning. You’re worried. And that’s natural, but life doesn’t stand still.” Maria squeezed her hand. “There is always change. Some people try and avoid it, but it finds them anyway. My grandparents wanted this even though they knew it wouldn’t be easy. For years we struggled. I never dreamed I would have my own restaurant with my family. We had nothing and now we have—” she glanced around the restaurant “—everything. Because of my Jake and his ambitions. Do you know how many people laughed at him when he knocked on their doors? So many. But he kept knocking, and now they are the ones knocking on his. So don’t ever tell me a dream can’t come true.”
“But Jake is brilliant with computers. He has a real talent. What do I do? I organize things for people.” Paige finished her coffee, questioning the decision she’d made. “A million people can do what I do but hardly anyone does what Jake can do. That’s why they knock on his door.”
“Plenty of people can cook, but still my restaurant is full every night. You underestimate yourself. You have a way with people, an eye for detail and good organizational skills. And you have passion and determination. You’re a hard worker.”
Was it enough? Would that be enough?
“Losing my job has knocked my confidence but confidence is exactly what I need if I’m going to persuade people to give business to Urban Genie.” Paige stared into her cup. “How do you act confident when you don’t feel it?”
“You pretend. You pretend all the time, Paige.” Maria’s voice was quiet and Paige shifted awkwardly.
“Some of the time. And rarely with you.” She was honest with Maria on every topic except one. Maria had no idea how Paige had once felt about her son.
“Carry on doing that and then one day you’ll wake up and realize you’re not pretending anymore. That it’s real.”
“I hope you’re right.” Paige glanced at her phone and stood up. “I should go. I’m meeting Frankie and Eva at seven thirty. And I’m supposed to pick up fresh berries. Thanks for the coffee and comfort.”
“Come in one morning and have your breakfast meeting here. I’ll give you granita and brioche. I can’t help with your business but I can feed you, Sicilian style. And remember that even if a road is hard and bumpy, it doesn’t mean you should stop walking it.”
“I should embroider that on a throw pillow.” She kissed Maria on the cheek and carried on along the street, picking up berries and fresh plums from the fruit vendor and a bag of freshly ground coffee from her favorite coffee shop.
Eva was already in Frankie’s kitchen, her hair piled on top of her head in haphazard waves that would have looked messy on anyone else, but on Eva looked perfect. Her lower lip was trapped between her teeth as she sprinkled cinnamon onto oatmeal. “You bought berries?” She added a golden swirl of maple syrup. “Put them on the table. And if you’re taking a shower, don’t be long because this is almost ready. Frankie is getting dressed. She had another text.” She lowered her voice, but Paige didn’t have a chance to ask more because the door opened and Jake appeared, his shoulders almost filling the doorway.
She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.
He lived in fashionable Tribeca, in a converted loft that Eva always joked had a view as far as Florida on a clear day.
He yawned, and Paige saw that under those thick lashes his gray eyes were tired. His jaw was shadowed and it was obvious that whatever he’d done the night before hadn’t involved much sleeping.
Tucked under his arm was a black motorcycle helmet. Not for Jake the breath-stealing crush of public transport. When he made the trip over from Manhattan to Brooklyn, he rode his bike.
Looking at him, no one would have guessed he owned a successful global business. Right now he could have strolled into the more dangerous parts of Brooklyn and fitted right in.
“Happy first day at work.” Despite the lack of sleep, he looked sleek, male and too handsome for his own good.
She, on the other hand, had sweaty hair and sweaty skin and wasn’t wearing a scrap of makeup.
Great.
Why couldn’t he have showed up ten minutes later, after she’d taken a shower and maybe after she’d applied a slick of lipstick?
Not that it would have made a difference. It didn’t matter how many showers she took, or which lipstick she chose, Jake wasn’t interested.
And why would he be? There was a waiting list of women wanting to date Jake Romano.
To him she was still that pale, skinny teenager who’d embarrassed herself and him. She’d decided to live in the moment, and she’d picked her moment badly. She’d often wondered what would have happened if she’d made a move on him a few years later.
Would he have seen her as an adult then, old enough to play grown-up games?
“What are you doing here?” It took all her willpower not to smooth her hair.