“It’ll be in Florida. On Islamorada. Victor’s probably going to call you and tell you not to come. But you should ignore him and come anyway.” He shrugged. “If you want.”
It was a very small olive branch, and only from one member of the family, but even that was more than I’d expected.
“Just think about it,” he said before I could respond. Then he climbed into the car and was gone.
I moved into the restaurant and sat next to Isaac, trying to sort out my thoughts. I would sometimes go months without giving the LeFrancs more than a passing thought. I did not need them in my life; I didn’t really even want them in my life. Yet, Gabriel’s invitation had felt sincere enough to trigger a dormant hope for something I’d never gotten among the LeFrancs. Acceptance.
I didn’t like what that said about me. I wasn’t supposed to still care. I didn’t care.
At least, I thought I didn’t.
I drummed my fingers on the table and glanced at my watch. 7:34. I’d been nervous all afternoon about seeing Dani again, but I suddenly welcomed the distraction she’d be. Four minutes wasn’t really all that late, and yet, I couldn’t keep myself from glancing toward the door every fifteen seconds.
“Alex,” Isaac said, his voice dry. “You’re going to pull a muscle if you don’t relax and sit still.”
I huffed and settled back into my chair. “Shut up.”
“Why are you so stressed out about seeing her? I thought it was all over between you two.”
“It is. It . . . was. You just could have given me some warning. I don’t appreciate seeing her again under these circumstances.”
Isaac gave his head a derisive shake and reached for his phone. “Under what circumstances? Don’t pretend like this is my doing. It’s not like I kept you chained to the radiator in Charleston. You could have come up to see her anytime. Whatever you feel right now is completely on you.”
My jaw tensed with frustration, but Isaac was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I was the only one responsible for the awkwardness between Dani and me. And that was the problem. Shame was a very uncomfortable feeling.
While Isaac was good at spouting off generalities regarding my relationship history with his sister, in truth, he didn’t know much about what had happened between us. Isaac was a friend, but he liked to keep things surface level. I had my own theories about why that was, revolving largely around personal insecurities and fear of rejection—one didn’t spend years (or at least summers) in family therapy without picking up a few scraps of useful information—but I hardly had room to throw mental health diagnoses at Isaac. I was clearly just as much a mess as he was. I was, after all, the one who had walked out on Dani. The one who had walked out on everything.
I took a deep breath and rolled my neck, cracking it on one side, then the other—a vain attempt to clear my head. When I looked up, Dani approached the table.
I stood, my breath lodged in my throat. She looked amazing. Her blonde hair was . . . and her blue eyes . . . and her dress. I’d seen it before. It was the dress she’d had on when we first met.
I’d first spoken to Dani on the balcony of an apartment on the Upper East Side, at a party I’d had no desire to attend. I’d only been there because my stepbrothers had dragged me along, insisting it was part of my responsibility to “represent the brand,” to think of “the family image.” It wasn’t that I didn’t like fashion. I’d always appreciated a well-tailored suit, but I didn’t like the networking. The fierce competition. The hobnobbing with socialites. Working for LeFranc, I was required to be on display at all times. It was exhausting.
But then I’d seen Dani, the wind lifting the curls from her neck, and my heart had nearly stopped. She’d been having a conversation with my stepbrother, Victor, and looked so uncomfortable, I’d immediately decided she needed rescuing. It wasn’t a stretch to assume Victor was being rude to her, so I took a gamble and lied, telling Victor his secretary had called me looking for him. As soon as he excused himself to call her back, I took his place on the balcony next to Dani.
“Seriously, thank you,” Dani had said as soon as Victor was out of earshot. “Even a LeFranc isn’t worth the way he stared at me.”
“Like he’s a lion, and you’re lunch?” I’d said. “He’s my stepbrother. Unfortunately, he doesn’t improve with time.”
“Stepbrother,” she’d repeated. “So you’re a LeFranc too?”
I’d never actually cared about being a LeFranc until that moment. Until I realized how much Dani wanted me to say yes. I should have recognized her desire as the warning it was. “I’m not as much of a LeFranc as Victor,” I’d said instead, “but Alicio still claims me and lets me work for him. That must count for something.”
She smiled wide, the sight making my breath catch in my throat. “It definitely counts.” She held her hand out. “I’m Dani. Danielle, actually. But friends call me Dani.”
Her hand had felt warm and soft in mine. We’d spent the rest of the evening together after that, and then I’d walked her home.
We’d had lunch the following day, and dinner the next Friday, texting multiple times a day in between. After that, things had happened quickly. For almost a year we were nearly inseparable.
Until I’d left.
A new wave of shame washed over me. For a moment I wondered if she’d worn the same dress on purpose. Was she trying to tell me something? Remind me of something?
If so, she’d hit the mark. She left me speechless. I swallowed and willed myself to breath slowly. “Hi,” I managed, my voice strangled and cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello.”
She met my eyes only briefly, a small smile of acknowledgment flitting across her face before she settled her gaze on her brother, who still sat at the table, his gaze glued to his phone.
“It’s nice to see you too, little brother,” Dani said.
Isaac held up his hand, one finger raised in the air, while his other hand continued to tap something out on the screen. A few seconds more passed before he nodded, turning his phone over with a thud of finality. “There. Done.” He stood and pulled his sister into a hug, though from my view, neither of them seemed particularly happy about the physical contact.
“How are you doing, Dandelion?” Isaac asked as we all sat at the table.
I watched Dani cringe at the nickname, her hand reflexively reaching for her hair. She’d told me once how much she hated it—I remembered the conversation—but I couldn’t remember where it had come from. Isaac would tell me, and probably jump at the chance to embarrass his sister, but the look on Dani’s face warned me away from the subject.
“You’re never going to stop with that, are you?” Dani asked as she opened her menu.
Isaac grinned. “Not as long as I know how much it bugs you.”
She pursed her lips but didn’t look up, her eyes flitting from one thing to another far too fast to actually be reading them.
“It was nice of you to share your reservation with us,” I said, glancing from Dani to Isaac and back to Dani again. “Rao’s isn’t an easy table to get.”