Page 261 of Merciless Daddy

I looked at him.

Then I looked at the notebook beside me.

Most mornings are good.

“Yes,” I said. “Most mornings.”

Filoxenia was busy this morning.

The original bakery remained warm and worn. Chipped tile. Marble scrubbed pale. Katerina’s father’s photograph beside the coffee machine. The expanded room had pale stone counters, tall windows, and flowers in painted pots. A wide opening connected both spaces.

Beyond it, a courtyard ran between Filoxenia and the refurbished restaurant.

Warm lights had been strung overhead. Small iron tables waited beneath bare climbing vines. The old brick walls had been cleaned but not polished into respectability.

It felt joined.

Not merged. Not swallowed.

Joined.

Katerina stood behind the main counter with flour on her cheek and murder in her eyes.

“Put it down.”

Tonio froze with a pastry halfway to his mouth.

“I was checking quality.”

“You already checked six.”

“Absolutely. Standards must be consistent. Really, it should be a baker’s dozen that I check—I have seven more to go.”

“Put it down or I’ll check whether your hand fits in the deck oven.”

Tonio considered this.

Then he took a bite.

Katerina snatched a wooden spoon from the counter. Tonio retreated through the courtyard toward Mezza Notte, laughing with his mouth full.

“If he comes back,” Katerina shouted after him, “break his legs!”

“No one touch my legs,” Tonio called. “I need them to run away from Kat.”

“Someone take his legs out!” Donatella called from the window.

She held a champagne glass despite the fact that it was not yet noon.

Her lipstick was perfect.

Of course it was.

The bakery had become a command post. Angela and Pietro arranged place cards at a long table near the windows. Angela checked every name twice. Pietro moved each card exactly where she pointed, which seemed to be the foundation of their successful relationship.

Gemma and Cora Caruso stood among buckets of greenery and white flowers. Gemma adjusted stems with careful fingers. Cora tied dark ribbons around the vases, cut them once, and somehow made the arrangement look expensive.

Serafina paced near the ovens with one phone at her ear and another vibrating in her hand.