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“I know how Lainey gets hers. What about you?”
“Medium well.”
My lip curled, as did Silvia’s. We glanced at each other and shook our heads.
“Did I say something wrong?” Damian asked.
Silvia sighed. “If you mean did you commit a mortal sin? Then yes.”
“Medium is the only answer,” I said. “Unless you want Silas to come out from the kitchen and give you a lesson on the proper way to cook and eat a burger.”
“Medium it is then.” Damian handed his menu to Silvia.
“Thank heavens,” she said and headed toward the kitchen.
“Does it happen often?” Damian asked with an amused twitch of his lip.
“It stopped for a while, but his wife filed for divorce last month, and ever since, he’s been a little cranky.”
“And the owner is okay with that?”
I glanced over at Clyde, who was a third-generation owner. “Silas has worked for Clyde since he was fifteen. He’s not going to fire him at thirty-two because he’s going through some things.”
“That small town hospitality,” Damian said.
I smiled. “Sure is. Where are you from? I’m guessing not a small town.”
“Nope. Celeste and I were born and raised in Los Angeles.”
“As far from small town as you can get,” I said. “Do you still live there?”
I hadn’t even put that into consideration when I agreed to the date. My life was here in Vine Valley. My family, my business, my friends—
The door opened, and bulging biceps held tight to a case of Vine Valley wine. I’d know those biceps anywhere. Nero’s head turned in my direction. Our eyes locked, and the air was sucked out of the room. I inhaled, attempting to get oxygen to my lungs, but it was if my body forgot how to breathe. My pulse quickened as my heart hammered my chest.
One would think after being ravished and satiated, only to be abandoned and humiliated, I’d feel nothing but animosity toward him. There was only a little animosity, but mainly, I felt loss—loss at what we could have had. It could have been beautiful. I was mourning a relationship that never happened, and maybe that made me pathetic, but when it came to Nero Grasso, pathetic was my middle name. No matter what, he would always have a direct link to the uncontrollable muscle in my chest.
I cleared my throat again, trying to ignore the man who just walked in and gave my focus back to the man who asked me here.
“I do, but I travel so much for work, I can’t even tell you the last time I was actually there.” Damian’s dimple made an appearance as he picked up his wineglass and took a sip.
“You must get homesick.”
I tried to keep my attention on him, but Nero’s voice boomed across the room, and my ear turned in his direction.
“Not really,” Damian continued. “Celeste is always traveling, and so are our parents. We usually meet up when we cross paths.”
“You don’t get lonely?”
“My work keeps me company.”
I took a sip of wine and chanced a glance over at the bar. Nero was talking to Simone and laughing. Heat crept up my neck, and I was afraid I was going to turn into a red blotchy mess.
Nero’s gaze caught mine, and the entire world froze. His jaw tightened, and some strange part of me wanted him to come over and stake his claim, but that was ridiculous, and I hated myself even more for letting him reduce me to a puddle of desperation.
I snapped my attention to Damian. “I’m a workaholic, too,” I said. “But I try to keep a balance and find time to do other things.”
“Like what?”
