“Dean?”
“The other day you said that no man is an island. Ever since I was young, I’ve been fiercely competitive. I guess I always thought of myself as a mountain climber. I wanted to be the fastest kid on the track, the smartest kid in the class, and the richest man in New York. I wanted to climb and climb and climb, but the top turned out to be an even colder type of isolation.”
"Are you saying you need a Sherpa?”
He laughed and bent forward over the island to kiss me. He took me by surprise and I could hardly kiss him back before he was pulling away.
“I need you,” he confirmed. “God help me.”
I smiled, flushed from ear to ear with a blush I didn’t bother trying to hide.
“When I pushed you out of my house that night, I told you that you’d find a better man than me, and well, I’ve decided that I’m going to be that man. In the last month, I’ve worked to become the type of man you deserve.”
“Oh really?” I asked, trying to keep my cool. Inside, I was pushing down the urge to shove the dishes off the island and throw myself at him.
“I sold off four of my restaurants, I hired three new managers to help with the workload, and I promoted Zoe so that she can help with daily operations. I won’t ever fully retire, but I’m not going to be a workaholic any more.”
“What about Lirio? You didn’t sell it, right?”
I’d kill him if he had.
He shook his head. “I still own Lirio. It’ll always be our restaurant.”
I smiled and leaned in, whispering against his lips just before I kissed him.
“The first of many.”
Epilogue
Dean
I reclined in the back seat of the town car and let the city lights ease my growing headache. My flight from Iowa had landed an hour ahead of schedule, but the traffic from the airport to Lirio was about to drive me insane.
The driver’s voice broke me out of my haze. “How was your trip, sir?”
I turned toward the front seat and met his eye in the rearview mirror. “The usual.”
My parents had badgered me the same as they always had, but this time Lily had been the topic of discussion.
“When are we going to get a grandchild? We’re only getting older.”
“Are you sure you want to stay in New York City? Is that really where you want to raise your family?”
“Aren’t you ready to make an honest woman out of her?”
I swore they were still living in the 1800s, but I’d tried my best to appease them. I’d had a ring burning a hole in the pocket of my pants for the last two months. I’d picked out a ring that was big, but tasteful. Julian had set the bar high a few months earlier—the bastard—but I’d been happy to spoil Lily. She’d flip when she saw it. If she saw it.
Our lives had been so busy the last few months. Opening Lirio had taken a lot of work and the restaurant still wasn’t running smoothly. Most nights, Lily and I were both working like dogs.
“Here you are sir. Would you like me to wait?”
I shook my head and offered him a tip. The night was still young and I knew Lily and I would be at the restaurant for quite a while.
“Go on ahead and drop my luggage at the house. We’ll catch a cab later.”
“Sounds good, sir.”
Lirio was packed when I walked in, busier than usual for a Wednesday night. The New York Times had featured our restaurant the week before and we were already starting to see the effects of the article.
“Hi Mr. Harper,” the hostess said, nodding at me as I walked in and hung my jacket on the coat rack near the door.
“Hey Sarah. What’s it looking like tonight?”
“We have over a hundred reservations and I haven’t tallied the walk-ins yet. There are two parties taking place in the back rooms at the moment.”
I nodded. “Good. Where’s Lily?”
She smiled and angled her head toward the center bar.
“Again?”
“Yeah, Todd called in sick.”
That was fourth time he’d called in sick in two weeks, and I knew for a fact the kid was calling in so he could make it to last minute auditions.
“All right, thanks,” I told her, moving past the hostess stand so I could find Lily.
We’d designed Lirio to be much smaller than Provisions. We’d wanted the experience to feel intimate. The tables were covered with white tablecloths with fresh flowers and tea candles. The lighting overhead was soft and meant to be forgotten. Beautiful abstract paintings hung sparingly on the walls, but the real art was the food. Antonio had created dishes for us that were jam-packed with color and flavor.