Page 112 of Dirty Hearts

“Hey.” Kelly reached out and touched my shoulder. “Chin up. This is a big day for us. Do not let anything get you down. Who knows where we’ll be next year? Ava, I see us in Europe. Maybe Paris or even Italy. We could take over the world with our amazing food.”

“That does sound good,” I agreed.

I’d dreamed big, but she’d clearly dreamed bigger. I was in, whatever she choose. I was definitely in.

“I’ll cook the next order.” She grinned.

“Is it for our new friends?”

“Luc wants a Spanish omelette.”

“Okay, Kelly.” I finished off the pancake, added some chocolate and hazelnut spread to the top, then banoffee syrup.

We’d promised our customers that we’d be serving them today. The day started with my father’s all-time favorites, and a lot of his old customers were already here. My parents were coming for lunch. Today was when I’d been hoping to talk to them about Claudius. Now, I wasn’t so sure there was anything to talk about.

He didn’t want me. Last night told me that. He was kickstarting the process of shunning me once again.

I hated him right now for it, and at the same time, I loved him and missed him so much my soul ached.

Pushing the thought aside, I prepared a food tray with my order of pancakes and freshly squeezed grapefruit, and made my way out to the restaurant floor. It was even busier than just half an hour ago.

Nearly all the tables were filled, and two of my waitresses were coming through the door. Just in time.

I went over to Mr. Portobelle and served him the pancakes. He was one of Pa’s oldest friends. He was here with his wife. They beamed up at me when I came up to them.

“Oh, Ava, look at you. We’re so proud of you. The place is heavin’.” Mrs. Portobelle laughed. She had a thick New York accent I’d always loved.

“Your parents are going to be very proud of what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thank you. I truly appreciate that. I hope I made the pancakes like Pa.”

Mr. Portobelle cut into the end of the pancake, dipped it in the sauce that had drizzled to the side of his plate, then placed it in his mouth. His salt and pepper brows wiggled with delight, and he started to laugh. “Please do not tell your father I said this, but damn, sweet girl, yours is better than his.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s quite a compliment. Thank you. I’m so honored.” I nodded.

It was an honor. People knew my father’s cooking far and wide. So, that was definitely quite the compliment.

“My turn.” Mrs. Portobelle smiled. From as far back as I could remember, she’d always shared a plate with her husband.

“Enjoy. Call for me if you need anything else.” I smiled at them.

I was making my way back to the kitchen when Luc stopped me.

“Hey, Doll, you okay?” he asked, giving me that concerned look he’d sported since last night.

“I’m here. Thanks for coming with me.” I had to admit, I felt safer knowing he was here. Of course, if Claudius were here too, I would have actually been happy.

“Boss’ orders. I’m not to leave your side. Not that I wouldn’t have come along anyway.” He chuckled.

“He said that?” It was stupid of me to hang on to hope, but here I was.

Luc instantly looked thrown a little off guard. “He did say that.”

“Has he called since we’ve been here?”

Now he looked worse. The caution in his expression told me he’d spoken to Claudius.

“He has, hasn’t he?” I added. “It’s okay. It’s not fair to put you in the middle. I know you must have been busy, and if you weren’t busy, you could be with Amelia or Raphael. You didn’t have to be here.”