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“It’s not true. And your daughter knows it’s not.” I raised my hand. “I’m tired of having this same conversation?—”
“As am I,” he snapped.
“I’m willing to leave the past behind us. I’m willing to give you a clean slate. I’m willing to try to accept you as my father-in-law. I will fight for your relationship with Scarlett. By telling her the truth, you’ll have redeemed yourself in my eyes as well as hers. I’ll give you back your business. I’ll do anything you want at this point. Just tell her the truth. You can tell whatever convoluted version of the story you want. I just want her to understand that I did not end things because I wanted to. I did not go out with Cassandra because I wanted to. Please, Dante.”
He listened to my speech with a blank stare, like he hadn’t heard a word I said. He rubbed his arm and released a breath from his nostrils. “I can’t help you, Axel. I suggest you move on and forget my daughter—just as she’ll forget about you.”
Chapter 7
Scarlett
Instead of waiting for my father to decide to give me the loan, I went to the bank and applied for one myself. I qualified for just enough to get a small place near Pino’s. I decided to go back to the place that Axel and I had first visited, the one he’d described as a hole-in-the-wall.
I signed the lease agreement then got to work, spending hours in my apartment creating recipes that I would serve. My time was spent traveling back and forth between my apartment and the market, picking up more groceries to prepare meals in my kitchen. My days were packed from dawn to midnight, cooking or speaking with vendors who could supply all the products I needed to operate the restaurant. I didn’t even have a name for it yet, but I had created nearly the entire menu by the end of the week.
I wasn’t sure if I was excited for the restaurant or just desperate to stay busy. With a packed schedule, I barely had time to reflect on anything, so that meant I hardly thought of Axel, which was exactly what I wanted. Instead of wondering what he was doing or if he was watching the game, I was too busy cooking orwashing the grease off my dirty pans. Instead of wondering if he was already sleeping around, I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.
I’d just finished another concoction when someone knocked on my door.
I turned off all the burners and felt my heart lunge, secretly hoping that it was Axel on the other side of that door, that he’d come to check on me, to tell me he was as miserable as I was.
But I knew it wasn’t him.
It’d been over a week since I’d left, and he hadn’t texted me. Hadn’t called. It wouldn’t make sense for him to show up on my doorstep unannounced. And even if he did…nothing had changed. It would only hurt us both.
“Sweetheart?”
My heart deflated at the sound of my father’s voice. The disappointment caught me off guard. I walked across the apartment and opened the door to see him standing on the other side, looking nice in his blazer and collared shirt. “Hey, Dad.” I let him inside and didn’t hug him like I normally would. Not only was I dirty in my apron, but I also didn’t have the heart for human affection right now. Axel was the last person to have touched me. “What brings you here?”
“Just wanted to check on you. Haven’t heard from you in a while.” He eyed the mess in the kitchen.
“Just been busy.”
“Something smells good.”
“I’m working on recipes for the restaurant.”
“Oh really?” He entered the kitchen and took a look inside the pans. “What’s this?”
“Short rib ravioli. A long process to prepare the meat and then roll it in the ravioli, but it’s worth it. I think it’ll be a customer favorite when the restaurant opens.”
“Can I try it?”
“Oh, sure.” I took out a couple plates from the cabinet and dished up the ravioli before I placed the dishes on the kitchen table. The pans were left on the stove to be cleaned later. I opened a bottle of wine too and poured two glasses.
I hadn’t sat down to eat since I’d left Axel’s. I snacked here and there whenever I cooked because I didn’t have much of an appetite. It was hard to believe I could lose weight in such a short amount of time, but I could tell my sweatpants fit differently.
My father took a bite, took his time chewing it, and then gave a nod. “Delicious.”
“You really think so?”
“I do.” He stabbed another ravioli and took a bite.
“You know there’s carbs in that, right?”
He smirked as he chewed. “Worth it.”
I looked down at my food and pushed the raviolis around. I had a small appetite, but it suddenly vanished into thin air like I’d never been hungry at all. The food was piping hot and imbued with my effort, but that still wasn’t enough enticement.
