Bittersweet (The Calvettis of New York 4)

“It’s today,” Joel states with a smile. “I’ll check in on you later so we can go over our plans for tomorrow.”

I’m not going to win this fight, so I give in to defeat by offering him a hug.

I need the comfort of his embrace, but my motivation is two-fold.

Tugging Joel close to me, I whisper, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Good,” he says quietly as he pats the center of my back. “He’s in pain, Afton. Maybe you can help each other.”

I take a step back to look at his face. “Joel…”

“I love you.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Enjoy the food and the company.”

I offer him a curt nod. “I’ll try.”

As he steps away, Luke turns to face us. “I don’t want to chase you away. If you two are in the middle of something, I’ll take off.”

“You’ll stay.” Joel brushes past Luke. “It was nice meeting you, Luke. I’ll see you around.”

“You too.” Luke smiles. “Take care, Joel.”

As soon as the door closes behind my best friend, silence fills the space.

Luke and I stare at each other. It’s not uncomfortable. I don’t feel awkward.

He finally clears his throat. “My grandma makes the best lasagna in the country. I ate a piece an hour ago. I could go for another slice if you’re willing to share. She always packs extra.”

Did he just invite himself to have lunch with me?

“I’ll grab plates.” I start toward my kitchen. “I don’t have any alcohol. Are you good with sparkling water?”

A low chuckle escapes him. “I’m swearing off the hard stuff for the foreseeable future. Water would be great, Afton.”

Chapter 10

Luke

I’ve been in my fair share of homes in New York City, but not one as unique as this.

My brother Rocco and his wife Dexie own a brownstone. It’s several stories with a basement filled with boxes, leftover construction materials, and a furnace.

The lower level of this place has been transformed into a bright and open living space complete with an exposed brick wall, wooden beams on the ceiling, and a fireplace.

This is a step up from where I’ve been living. Rocco owns the apartment I’m renting. It has its positives, but privacy isn’t one of them.

I’m practically on top of my neighbors who live in the building next to mine.

“This is a great place to live,” I comment as Afton divides the large piece of lasagna between two light blue plates.

“Joel and my brother live upstairs.” She tilts her chin up. “When they decided to rent out this garden apartment, they asked me if I was interested.”

“You jumped at the chance?”

“How could I not?” She smiles. “It’s a little oasis in the middle of the city.”

I take a step closer to where she’s standing next to the kitchen island. “Should I take a seat here?”

“Sure.” Her gaze wanders to a dining room table set up near the corner. The top of it is covered in what looks like puzzle pieces.

Yanking on the back of a wrought iron stool, I set myself down on it. “What’s going on there? Are you in the middle of a puzzle?”

She pushes a plate of food toward me along with a tall glass filled with sparkling water and ice. “I’m trying.”

“Trying?”

“There’s a tradition in my family. We buy each other puzzles, dump the pieces on a table, and destroy the box.”

I laugh out loud. “Destroy the box? So you have no idea what the end result is supposed to look like?”

Rounding the island, she shrugs a shoulder. “Not a clue.”

“That’s fucking cruel.”

She nods her head. “You’re telling me. I’ve been stuck on this one for a few weeks.”

I wait until she’s sitting next to me before I take a drink from the glass. “I’m not half-bad at puzzles.”

It’s not a lie. My grandma had a crate full of puzzles she kept in a backroom of the restaurant when I was a kid. Whenever Dante and I ended up there at the same time during Calvetti family lunches, we’d have puzzle challenges. He has yet to beat me.

“You’re welcome to try.” She picks up the fork in front of her. “After we eat, that is.”

This feels comfortable in a way I didn’t expect it to. Afton hasn’t asked why I randomly showed up at her doorstep or how I even knew she lived here.

Instead, she welcomed me in, made me feel at home, and has kept the conversation easy and light.

“Dig in.” I point at the lasagna and garlic bread on the plate in front of her. “I guarantee it’s the best you’ll ever have.”

“Don’t I know it,” she says as she pierces a noodle with her fork. “I’ve been in love with your grandma’s food for years.”

***

Afton clears the plates, putting them into a sink under a window that overlooks what looks like a private garden.

When she turns back around to face me, her smile is gone. “How did you find me, Luke?”