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Hayden leans forward in his seat. “Enzo, youareAngel. You came up with the formula. You continue to help the team discover ways to expand our offerings.”
I look at him wryly. “I’m pretty sure if you stopped now and only sold beer and wine you’d be just fine.”
He quirks his brow and nods slightly.
Fuck. He’s a wily bastard. I realize belatedly he’s trapped me.
“Fine. You got me.”
“Enzo,” he says, his tone losing some of the bite, “we’ve done more in the past few years than we ever imagined was possible. We have a lifetime to expand, to get Angel in every bar and restaurant in the world.”
“I wish I ordered meatballs,” I say, because I don’t want to talk about this. Not again.
“Youarea meatball. How’s Chari dealing with your need to take over the world?”
I give him a warning look.
“Ah, a sore point?”
“She’s fine,” I argue.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“She gets it.”
“Does she?” Hayden sounds more than a little skeptical. Then he waves a hand. “You’re in the honeymoon phase. Of course she gets it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hayden puts down his fork with a clank just as our waiter checks on us. Thankfully, there’s no sign of Giovanna, but there does seem to be fewer regulars in here tonight. More than a few people are looking at us.
“Exactly what you think it means.”
I fold my napkin and place it on the table. For being so hungry a few minutes ago, I can’t fit another bite in my stomach.
“She’s coming up on Saturday,” I say, in an attempt to mollify him.
“I thought you were having dinner with the Virginia distributors Saturday.”
“I am.”
“With Chari?”
“I had to cancel last weekend”—I shrug—“so yeah.”
I can’t go much longer without seeing her. A business dinner isn’t ideal, but at least it’s something.
“Sounds romantic.”
“You would know.” Hayden once prided himself on being the king of romance. But his wife sees through all his bullshit, always has.
“I’m just saying . . . Sorry I can’t go for you. In-laws are coming in for the weekend.”
“It’s fine,” I say, waving my hand in the air for the check. “She’ll be up late afternoon. And I probably can spare a few hours Sunday morning too.”
“Pfft. Lucky girl. A whole twenty-four hours.”
I give him anI’m done with this conversationlook, and Hayden lifts up his hands, signaling he’ll back off.
