And it had all been destroyed, reduced to ash in just one hour.
He jerked slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Sorry, son. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Oliver turned and smiled at his dad, Sean. He hadn’t even heard him come in. “Guess we’re the first ones here.”
“What about Gavin? Thought he was coming.”
Oliver shrugged. “He was at a different work site this morning, but he was planning to be here. Maybe he got held up.”
Dad jerked his head toward the entrance. “I just saw the Morettis pull into the parking lot across the street. You okay? You seemed pretty far away there.”
Oliver shrugged. “Still struggling to…”
Dad gave him a sad nod. “Yeah. It’s hard for me to see it like this too. But you and I both know J and K Construction can rebuild this place, make it even better. All new electrical wiring, plumbing. No more clogged toilets to fight with in the men’s room. No more patching that damn crack in the back wall every other year. Better lighting. Whole place has been too long overdue for a fresh coat of paint and the floors in bad need of refinishing. We can do all that now. Make this place shine.”
“You’re right.” Oliver tried to shake off his heavy feelings. His dad always managed to find the bright side in things. And he was confident in his family’s skills when it came to the rebuild. Between that and the Moretti brothers’ talents when it came to home restorations, Oliver genuinely believed they could return the pub to its former glory. It was just his damn impatience getting the better of him.
They turned to the entrance as Tony Moretti walked in, followed by his brothers, Joe, Luca, and Gio. Bubbles and Aunt Riley had dubbed them the Italian Stallions the first time they’d met the brothers, both of them joking that they’d wasted too many years living in Baltimore if the Morettis were the standard fare in Philadelphia.
Oliver had to admit…Bubbles and Aunt Riley weren’t wrong. All four of the Morettis were tall—well over six feet—with broad shoulders, thick muscles, eyes so dark they appeared black, and strong Italian features.
“Down, boy,” Dad murmured, obviously noticing Oliver checking them out. Of course, he could have issued the same warning to his dad. They really were birds of a feather, something Oliver’s mom and Pop Pop had said at least a million times in the past.
“Sean, Oliver. Good to see you both again,” Tony said, walking over, hand outstretched. They all shook hands. Layla’s brothers had spent a fair amount of time in the pub over the last couple of years, visiting their sister every two or three months. Oliver figured the reason the Collins and Moretti men had clicked so well was because they all tended to be fairly overprotective of the women in their lives. Though Layla had started joking lately that she didn’t think they were coming because they were worried about her anymore, so much as they just wanted an excuse to drink with Miguel and Finn at the pub.
Tony glanced around the building and shook his head sadly, as Joe muttered, “Damn, I just can’t believe it. Layla said it was all gone but…still…”
It was their first time seeing the pub since the fire.
“I’m sorry for everything your family lost,” Gio said to Sean. “This place was special.”
Dad smiled. “Yeah. It was. And with your help, it will be again.”
“How’s your Pop holding up?” Luca asked.
“He’s doing the best of all of us,” Oliver said. “Been joking lately that the fire saved him from being the first person in the world to fail at the Marie Kondo method. In Pop Pop’s world, everything sparks joy.”
Tony chuckled. “That sounds like him.”
Dad laughed. “Told Riley she might want to start limiting his TV time. The man is obsessed with home improvement shows these days. I’m sort of surprised he didn’t try to crash this meeting. He’s got about a million suggestions for the restoration.”
“You should have invited him to join us,” Tony offered.
Dad considered that, nodding slowly. “Might do that next time. He…hasn’t been back here since the fire, so I was hesitant to…”
Tony nodded. “I understand. Next time, we’ll meet somewhere else.”
“Sounds like a plan. You got the furniture from upstairs, right?” Dad asked.
Luca nodded. “Yeah. Truck brought it all to our warehouse a couple of days ago. I’ve already started cleaning it up with smoke-damage products. You were smart to get those pieces to us quickly. Gives us a better chance of saving them.”
The upper two floors had been mostly saved from burning but had taken a major hit in terms of smoke and water damage. They’d removed the antique pieces Pop Pop had collected over the years with Grandma Sunday that they hoped to restore, renting a moving van for delivery to Philadelphia. Luca was considered one of the best on the East Coast, when it came to refurbishing old furniture, while his twin brother, Gio, was known for his talent for building from scratch—recreating pieces that couldn’t be saved.
Dad led them all over to the folding table and chairs they’d set up yesterday for this meeting. On the table was a large stack of photographs, compiled by the entire family, showing different aspects of the pub and restaurant as it had been.
For the next two hours, the six of them sorted through the pictures, discussing what items Tony thought they could find online to purchase—the booths, tables, chairs, vintage glassware, and a lot of the décor fell into that category—and what they would have to build to match, the primary thing being the long mahogany bar. Gio, a master craftsman, assured them he could recreate the bar right down to the scuff marks and scratches if they wanted.
Oliver’s phone pinged and he glanced at the screen.
“It’s from Gavin,” he said, reading the text. “Apparently he was late leaving the last work site. Said there was an incident with his pants and he had to run home. Wants me to tell you guys he’s sorry he missed you,” Oliver said, glancing up at Tony. He wasn’t alone in thinking the Moretti boys were sex-on-a-stick hot. Gavin was going to be pissed he didn’t get to check out the eye candy.
“Tell him we said hello. We’ll all christen this place with a few pitchers after it reopens,” Tony said.
The heaviness Oliver had been feeling upon first arriving had lifted over the course of the meeting. Between the plans J and K Construction had in place in terms of creating a brand-new, state-of-the-art kitchen for Riley and the guarantees of the Morettis that they could restore the pub, could make it look exactly like it had before the fire, actually had him excited to see the end result.
They were just finishing when Riley showed up.
“There are my boys,” she said, walking over to the table to hug Tony, Luca, Joe, and Gio. Since her son, Finn, had started dating Layla, Aunt Riley had claimed the Moretti brothers—whose mother passed away when they were younger—as her own. “So what do you think?” she asked, gesturing at the pictures.
While the family had reassured her countless times that the fire wasn’t her fault, the tightness in Riley’s shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes proved she hadn’t managed to shake the guilt she felt.
“When we’re finished, no one will have a clue there’d ever been a fire,” Tony assured her.