“So? What happened?” she presses, looking away from my plate.
What happened, indeed? Just thinking of it gives me goose pimples from head to toe.
“You know, we talked a bit. He was swarmed by an adoring crowd. And then I left.”
Lisa blinks rapidly, daring me to stop there.
“Okay. Long version. I nearly died when he said my name. He sat two stools away from me and I could still smell him.”
“You could smell him. Seriously?”
“He hugged me. And I may have breathed in too deeply. His scent never really left me.”
A rich, sensual musk that I can smell even now if I close my eyes. I can see his face too. Dark hair, dark perfectly arched brows, deep brown eyes that seem to stare into your soul . . .
“You have a really weird look on your face,” she muses.
I’m sure I do.
“Anyway, he asked about my job. We chatted for a bit and then Devon came back, so I left them alone to catch up.”
“I see.”
“How can I fall right back into crushing on him in one damn hour? Seriously. I’m much more worldly than I was back then.”
She tilts her head. “Are you really?”
I think about the fact that I never left Bridgewater, even after promising myself I would not end up here. But Mom needs me, so here I stay.
“Yes, very much so,” I lie.
“I’m not sure about that. But you are a total babe.” Lisa shovels a mouthful of omelette before continuing. “Even if you won’t get out of your own way when it comes to men.”
Unlike Lisa, who is semi-attached at the moment, I am still single after more failed relationships than I’d care to admit. “Not this again.”
She shrugs. “All I’m saying is there’s no use pining for Enzo DeLuca unless you change your ways. Even if you guys did date, you’d break up with him just like all of the others.”
Lisa accuses me of self-sabotage when it comes to my love life. And maybe she’s right. But it hardly matters when it comes to Enzo. He’s so out of the question it’s not even funny.
“Well, there’s no need to worry. There’s literally zero chance of that happening.”
Lisa’s eyes widen. “Oh?”
“Devon would kill me. Or him. He’s only in town for the weekend, and he probably won’t be back for another year. Let me see if there’s anything else. Oh. Yeah. He’s not interested me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. He was exactly like you see him on the news. Cool. Collected. Polite. Not much evidence of the old Enzo.”
“The old Enzo?”
Lisa has a way of making me talk a ton more than she does. Or maybe I’m just a blabbermouth. Yes, that’s probably it.
“You know, the less stuffy, joking-around version. The non-bazillionaire Enzo.”
The guy I knew from our childhood and the one I see in interviews are definitely two different people. I’m not sure how I feel about the new one, but it doesn’t really matter. The last thing I should do is get hung up on either Enzo. Again.
“So that’s it?” she says disbelievingly. “End of story?”
I finally dip my eggs into the red pool of yumminess and eat. “Mmm-hmm,” I mumble.
“So if he walked in here right now, no big deal? You wouldn’t care at all?”
Washing down the eggs with my coffee, I don’t even bother to answer. She can’t goad me into saying more.
“The guy you had a major crush on for, like, most of your life, who you haven’t seen in years, comes home in all his glorious, wealthy sexiness and no biggie? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
And, just like last night, I can tell from the look on Lisa’s face that he’s behind me. Only this is an entirely different expression from the one my brother had. Instead of My buddy is here! this one is more like You’re about to be proven wrong.
I might have been staring at the door earlier, hoping he’d come in, but the truth is I’m not ready for it. Not again. This town is too damn small for a man like Enzo.
“He’s here,” I whisper frantically. “Isn’t he?”
“Yep,” she says, her smile firming up.
“What’s he doing?”
The Wheelhouse Bakery & Deli is not a huge place. If he’s standing across from her, she can probably see what he’s doing.
“He’s buying bagels, I think.”
My heart pounds in my chest. Do I turn around? Pretend I don’t know he’s here? Just keep eating?
“So he’s not staying?” I hiss in an undertone.
“No, I don’t think so.”
My internal freak-out kicks up a notch, and part of me wants to spring up from my chair and drag him over. To force him to stay.
Get a grip, Chari. Two days ago, Enzo DeLuca was as far from your mind as warm weather is from Bridgewater.
But now, after his sudden appearance last night . . .
“We meet again.”
Lisa looks like she’s going to spit out her coffee. But she doesn’t, thank God. The last thing I need is for him to guess we’ve been talking about him. I remind myself to keep it cool in the face of . . . what? Enzo isn’t a dating prospect. He’s Devon’s friend. A total big shot.
And he’s standing beside our table.
“Morning, Enzo,” I say, matching his cool tone.
“Still eating eggs with ketchup?”
Still breaking girls’ hearts? I want to ask.
Literally every woman in the place—young, old, doesn’t matter—is staring at him. Oh God, my view is exactly in line with the bulge in his jeans. Look up, Chari. I hone in on his Steelers sweatshirt instead. I’ve seen plenty of televised interviews of Enzo, and he’s always wearing a suit—the complete opposite of the casual attire he has on now. Both looks are equally as sexy, but this one doesn’t mark him as a multi-bazillionaire. It makes him more approachable, somehow.
“Still waving that terrible towel? I’d have thought you’d be a Giants or Jets fan by now. New Yorker and all.”
“Are you kidding?” he says with a grin. “A DeLuca never changes teams. Loyalty, girl.”
I swallow.
“Sorry. Woman. You’re certainly no longer a girl, Chari.”
His words send a rush of heat through me, but he has already moved on to greeting Lisa, as polite and charming as if he’d taken etiquette classes his whole life. “Good morning, Lisa.”
“Hi, Enzo. Good to see you.”
“Same to you.”
He glances back at me. “Gotta get these bagels back to the shop. You coming tonight?”
He means the soft opening of his brother’s restaurant, DeLuca’s II. Unlike the original shop that his dad owns, which only has three tables and does mostly takeout, DeLuca’s II is a straight-up Italian restaurant. On the casual side, but very much an upgrade on the original. With prime real estate right on the lake.
Tristano DeLuca has been talking about it for years. It was rumored Enzo gave him the building for Christmas. But when I asked Devon if it were true, he responded with, “No comment.” I had to wrest it from him later that Enzo did indeed buy Tris the building.