“Are you okay?” Brian looked concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just…” I trailed off. “What are you having?”
“I think I’m going to go with your choice and have the spaghetti and meatballs,” he said, and then smiled a little. “That way if I don’t like it, it’ll be all your fault.”
“Oh no, that’s all on you, Mr. Flynn!” I laughed. “Freedom! Isn’t that what you military people fight for? The right to choose your own dinner?”
A dark look flitted across Brian’s face, and I knew I’d gone too far. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I didn’t mean—“
“No, it’s fine,” he replied. “It’s all good.”
Across the restaurant a loud clatter caused Brian to jerk his chair out, and pop up out of it anxiously, looking around. He scanned the place until he found the culprit; a clumsy busboy had dropped a basket full of silverware and was now on his knees cleaning up the mess. I watched with a concerned look on my face until he sat back down and faced me, one hand still under his hoodie holding the handle of his gun.
*****
For a few moments we sat in uncomfortable silence, then Brian asked, “So, what’s it like growing up so rich?”
“Well, it’s okay, I guess,” I didn’t know how to answer his question without sounding like I was pitying myself. I mean, who wants to hear about a poor little rich girl who feels ignored? “I don’t know. I got to do a lot of things, and I know I had a whole bunch of advantages.”
“But what about your parents?” he pushed. “I’m curious how that works because your dad seems like a pretty focused guy.”
“You have no idea,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “He’s single-minded when it comes to the family business and the family name.”
“Sounds like it was rough,” he noted.
“I don’t know, I spent a lot of time in boarding schools, so I wasn’t really around him or my mother much,” I tried to sound casual about it, but the pain seeped into my voice and I fought to eliminate it. “On the other hand, I got to see a whole lot of things that other people only dream about!”
“Like what?” he asked. “What did you get to see that was so wonderful, Ava?”
The tone of his voice caught me off guard. For a moment I couldn’t tell whether he was mocking me or being genuinely kind, but when I looked up into his eyes, I saw a softness and quickly looked down and began messing with the napkin in my lap as I fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. It was true that I’d had an easy upbringing in terms of financial support. I’d never wanted for a single thing, and, in fact, had sometimes had to turn down things that were given to me before I even knew that I might want them. I wasn’t high and mighty, I just knew that there was more to life than clothes and cars and champagne.
“I got to see great works of art when I was 14. My grandmother and I traveled to Europe for a few months and we saw them all. We saw the Louvre in France, the Vatican in Italy, the Prado in Spain, the National Gallery in London, the Guggenheim, and the Bodemuseum in Berlin,” I recalled with a smile, and then quietly added, “It was the most amazing trip I’ve ever taken, and the last one that my grandmother ever took.”
“What happened to her? If you don’t mind me asking,” he asked.
“Why do people always say that?” I looked up at him as I spoke. “Why do they ask if they can ask you a question after they’ve already asked it?”
“I’m sorry,” he offered as he looked away embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s fine,” I replied, brusquely heading towards an explanation. “About three months after we returned from our trip, she fell in her bathroom and hit her head on the counter. One of the staff found her and called an ambulance, but by that time she’d been out for who knows how long. She was on life support for a week until my father and his sister could make a decision to let her go. They fought about it for days. My aunt wanted to hold off and see if she would improve, but my father did what he usually does and made the decision on his own. And as most people do with my father, my aunt finally gave in and agreed to take my grandmother off life support. They did an autopsy, and it turned out that she’d had a massive stroke, so my father’s decision was the right one in the end.”
“It sounds like your father is a decisive man,” Brian murmured.
“Yeah, well, that’s one way of looking at it,” I flashed him a wry grin as the waiter set our plates in front of us. As the smell from the steaming spaghetti drifted upward, I inhaled deeply and, for the first time in two days, felt ravenously hungry. I looked over at Brian and chirped, “Bon appetite!”
Despite the fact that we’d stuffed ourselves so full that neither one of us thought we’d ever want to eat again, Gina insisted that we take dessert with us, and boxed up a selection of tiramisu, cannoli, and something her pastry chef called Lemon Ricotta Surprise Cake. I hugged Gina tightly as Brian went to get the car.
“He likes you, Bella,” she smiled as she pushed my bangs out of my eyes. “He’s got that look that a man gets when he likes a woman more than he’s saying.”
“Oh, Gina!” I cried as I grabbed her and hugged her again. I wasn’t sure she knew what she was talking about since she didn’t know the situation, but then, I wasn’t entirely sure that she didn’t know either. I decided to hold back and see how things went rather than rush into something I was unsure of. It seemed like the smarter choice after the debacle that had become Dominic. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Yes, you come back, Bella!” she smiled. “And bring that nice young man with you.”
Outside Brian tapped the horn letting me know the coat was clear. I turned to go, and then turned back and said, “You’re sure he likes me, Gina?”
“Oh my beautiful girl, yes, he definitely likes you!” she laughed. “Now go to him!”
I ran out and climbed into the front seat, carefully setting the bag of Italian goodies in my lap before Brian shifted into drive and took us back to the dorm.