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Finally! A tiny piece of good news. I pushed myself to a sitting position, still clutching my phone. “Any updates from the police or the fire inspector?”
“No, not since last night. They’re still investigating. Vito might know more, but I haven’t asked him. He did send a bunch of guards over, so we’re safe for now.” He studied me carefully. “You ready to get up and help me fix this mess?”
A sharp knock sounded on the door a second before Maz’s face appeared. “Ciao, amici. I don’t want to interrupt, but I heard you talking. Is it okay to come in?”
“You can come in,” I said.
Maz walked in and regarded me carefully, cautiously. Like he wasn’t sure if we were still cool or not. “I made something called a chicken pot pie. I’m told it’s your favorite.”
My jaw dropped open. “It is. How did you—?” Then I remembered. The pub in Toronto. Vito told him.
My heart attempted to flutter in happiness, but I shut it down quickly. Vito would receive zero credit for anything from now on. “Thanks, Maz. I really appreciate it.”
“I don’t understand the biscuits on top, but . . . ” He shrugged.
“Dude, those are the best part,” my brother said.
Maz didn’t leave right away. Instead, he shifted on his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Maggie, my brother, he means well. He can’t help but?—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I said. “Please don’t try to defend Vito. No offense, but I don’t want to hear it. We’re through and I hear he’s going home. So, let’s all just leave it at that, okay? What matters is getting this place up and running again.”
Maz grimaced, but nodded. “I understand. I will also understand if you’d like me to leave.”
I exchanged a glance with Mikey, who seemed equally baffled. “Why would we want you to leave?” my brother asked. “The dining room will stay open throughout the renovations. We’ll still host events here.”
“No, not that. Because of my last name. I may not be in the business now, but I’m still a D’Agostino.”
“Maz, no,” I said. “We don’t want you to go. You didn’t have anything to do with this. And you came to help us at a moment’s notice. We’re so thankful to have you here.”
“Definitely,” my brother added. “You saved our assandyour food is amazing. The kitchen staff loves you. You can’t leave.”
“Do you have to go to this funeral?” I asked.
Maz shook his head. “No, it’s mostly a business thing. My sister-in-law wasn’t close to her father. The only reason I would go is to see my niece and nephew, and I visited them a few months ago. Allora . . . thank you for letting me stay. I like it here.”
“Good,” Mikey said, getting to his feet and clapping Maz on the shoulder. “Bring your girlfriend for a visit. I’d like to meet her.”
“Me too! It would be nice to see a healthy relationship for once.”
Maz cocked his head and studied me. “He loves you. Do not doubt it. He thinks he is protecting you by keeping his life separate. It’s all he knows based on how we were raised.”
No, I didn’t believe it. Vito never once hinted that he loved me. Lusted for me, yes. But other than gifting me a penthouse in Toronto and providing access to his jet, there was no plan for a future together.
And what did it matter? He lied to me. He wanted to keep me as a convenience, not a true partner. My parents had trusted each other, talked and argued, and lived side-by-side ever since they met and married. They died together. I didn’t want a man who shoved me aside, lied to me, evaded and dodged. I was tired of Vito Speak.
And this was why I’d avoided relationships since freshman year of high school. Theyhurt.
Lesson learned. Stick to one-night stands, just as I’d been doing for almost eight years.
I stood up and straightened my hoodie. “Maz, let’s agree to never raise the subject of your brother again, okay? Because we won’t see eye-to-eye on this.”
He held up his palms. “I promise to try. Though it might be difficult.”
“You can’t avoid him,” Mikey told me. “He’s our principal owner.”
“But that’s what I haveyoufor. To deal with Vito so that I don’t have to.” I came over to where they were standing. “Now, let’s go stuff ourselves with chicken pot pie.”
“I am not eating that,” Maz grumbled and walked out the door.