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“And I don’t think he was too happy when he found out.”
Zara moves to look beyond Enzo when I stop her.
“Don’t look.”
What I don’t tell Zara is how that dance was more than just a dance. It was . . . a connection. It had been so easy, so natural, to be in his arms. I totally should have told him sooner.
“So I can’t look, but you can?”
That was an accident. Besides, he’s not looking at me anyway.
“After the reunion picture, he was gone when I went back inside. I asked him to hold my wine and he just disappeared.”
“You like him.”
I’m not sure like is a strong enough word.
I’m attracted to him. Want to jump his bones. Want him to come over here and ask me to dance again so I can hold his hand. Touch him. Yeah, all of that.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Pursing my lips, I look back at the bride and groom. “Do you think they’ll smash?”
“I don’t think they will,” Zara says.
There’s a pause as they put down the knife. And then Enzo reaches for the cake they just cut. But instead of grabbing it, he puts a bit of icing on his finger, dots Chari’s nose with it, and then kisses it off.
So typical. Those two are like a romance movie come to life. First date in Switzerland. Then Chari moved to Manhattan. Which was perfect for me since I got to see her more. But now I’m back in Bridgewater and she’s still in New York. I’ll miss having lunch with her every other week.
“He’s looking.”
I move to the side so I can avoid him.
“And what do you mean it doesn’t matter? Is this about Jay?”
I can say honestly, “No.”
The crowd begins to disperse. Zara, skeptical, moves to the side of the room next to a wall with ribbons of white lights dripping down the side of it.
“Honestly, breaking up with him was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. If he was squeamish about my hours as a line chef, then he really wouldn’t have liked them now. Besides, I don’t see him ever leaving the city. It wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
Zara takes a sip of wine. “For the best.”
“Definitely.” I might have stayed in New York longer, but my father had a massive heart attack and was gone before I could even say goodbye.
Either way, I wasn’t going to live there permanently. Leoni’s may have been Mom’s dream, but it was mine too.
“How about you? I haven’t talked to you in person since the first edition went out. It looked so amazing.”
Zara waves to someone near the dance floor. “Thanks. It’s crazy, right? To publish in print in this day and age.”
Zara resurrected the same newspaper her grandmother ran years ago. I guess they’d call it more like a lifestyle paper than straight-up news. And in some parts of the world, it would never fly. But here in Bridgewater, where the past is part of the present . . . it’s perfect. Nostalgia is a good portion of Bridgewater’s charm. A walk down Main Street feels like taking a step back in time.
“It’s going to be great. If you ever need anything, a food column or whatever, just let me know.”
Zara’s eyes light up. “How did I not think of that?”
I laugh. “Maybe because you have a lot on your plate.”
