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The four of us turn toward a man who approached Enzo from behind. None of us know him. He walks with conviction, his salt-and-pepper beard somehow making him look more ominous.
“Enzo DeLuca, right?”
Enzo reaches out the hand that previously rested on my thigh.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Kenny Bradford. I live in Stratton.”
Two towns away, Stratton is even smaller than Bridgewater with, from what I can remember, maybe two bars, tops.
“My dad lived there when he first came over from Italy,” Enzo says. He’s gotten so accustomed to chatting with strangers that I swear he could run for political office. Except for the fact that he hates politics.
“I don’t want to intrude,” says the man as his gaze skates around the group. “I just wanted to thank you.”
I can tell we’re not the only people paying attention now—although people aren’t being obvious about it, I can tell they’re listening.
“My sister was hit by a drunk driver a few years ago. Her back is so messed up, she still can’t work. But she’s alive and we’re grateful for that. When we first heard about Angel, Inc., both my sister and I were thrilled. So I just wanted to say thanks, in person. You guys are doing amazing work.”
Enzo shakes Kenny’s hand again. I can tell he’s moved by this stranger’s gratitude. I know better than anyone his work ethic has much less to do with making more money than it does with improving quality of life for people, avoiding drunk driving accidents. He takes the social responsibility part of his business very seriously.
“It’s my pleasure,” he says, and I know Enzo is being sincere.
“I won’t take up any more of your time.”
Before Enzo can stop him, the stranger walks away, calling over his shoulder, “Angel is a great name, by the way.”
Everyone else has gone back to their conversations. But I can tell Enzo is pleased. As he should be.
“Angel,” he says, looking at me. “It’s not bad, but if I had to rename it, I think I’d go with a different name.”
“Would you really?” Lisa asks. “What would you call it?”
Enzo doesn’t break eye contact with me while answering her. “Tiger.” He smiles. “I think I’d call it Tiger, Inc. instead.”
I laugh, not even remotely cold, even though some ding-dong is holding the door open for all his friends. I hold up my beer.
“Cheers,” I say. Lisa and Devon raise up their drinks. “To Angel, Inc.”
Enzo raises his beer too. “And to its namesake, the woman I love.”
I’ll drink to that.
Epilogue
Enzo
“I’m so nervous.”
It’s hard to believe Chari is so worried about tonight. Within the last month, she upended her life, quit her job, and moved to New York. But she’s seriously worried about meeting Hayden for the first time. We’re stuck in traffic, and every minute that goes by, Chari fidgets more and more. Before long, she’s going to pull the buttons off her coat without realizing it.
“He’s going to love you.”
I take her hand, staying her nervous twisting of the buttons. Taking advantage of the fact that neither of us is wearing gloves, with it warming up a bit now that April has come. I rub circles into her palm.
“I still can’t believe you’ve never connected before. He and your brother get along great.
Unlike Chari, Devon has been to New York often enough over the past few years to get to know my friend and business partner. Hayden has been to Bridgewater before too, but those weekend visits coincided with occasions when Chari was either away or busy.
