Scarlett P.O.V

Maddox and I rush through the backdoors of Ebony's Restaurant, Zara's. Named in honor of her maternal grandmother, who'd passed away her senior year in high school. The place had been a dream for both of them, but more so for young Ebony.

She'd wanted to see her grandmother's recipes loved and enjoyed in a place all their own by everyone, just as she and her family had for decades. And it wasn't until five years ago that their dream came to fruition.

She and her husband Chance had sunk their entire life savings into the place, despite warnings from friends, family, and hell, sometimes even strangers on the street. Those first few years had come with a share of problems, but their relentless drive and faith had seen them through setback after setback, and now Zara's seemed to be finally flourishing.

That is if the full house and line up the block were anything to go by. And if not, the clean plates and contented smiles were.

Mrs. Zara would be proud. Ebony had poured her heart and soul into achieving her goal. And now she's done it. What more could she ask for?

As we enter the kitchen, the place is a whirlwind of activity. Shouted orders fly across the room as the food's prepped, cooked, plated, then handed off to the wait staff.

Over and over again, they repeat the process working seamlessly together like a well-oiled machine as they go about their tasks with one common objective, feeding the hungry patrons in the next room.

And right at the center of it is Ebony, looking like the boss; she is in her black power suit and high heels with her honey-blonde dreads pulled back into a high ponytail.

At first, she doesn't see us approaching, her attention divided between her cell phone in one hand and the tablet in the other, but a nudge from her head chef, Mike, alerts her of our presence. Setting the devices aside, she quickly crosses over to us.

"Thank god you're finally here!" She says, wrapping her arms around us for a quick hug.

"Why? What's going on?" I ask.

She hadn't really mentioned it over the phone, only asked if we could spare a few hours. To which we'd agreed.

"We're a little understaffed tonight since a few people called in sick, which normally wouldn't be a problem, but it's packed tonight." She rushes out in a single breath. "And I've called in reinforcements, but it'll be a while before they arrive."

"Well, we're happy to help until they get here. Just tell us where you need us."

Her dark brown eyes light up, barely concealing her excitement at the offer. "Really?"

I nod before she looks over at Maddox, waiting for his confirmation.

"Yes." He says, smiling. "Whatever you need."

"Okay." She beams. "Maddox, you're at the bar, and Scarlett," she grabs a tray full of food and shoves it into my arms. "I need ya to wait tables."

"Okay," I mouth, straightening the previously jostled pasta dishes.

Before I can finish, Ebony places her hands on my shoulders and guides me through the door and into the main room. "That goes to table nine an-"

"Oh God," I stop short a few feet from the doorway, staring over the heads of the crowd at the booth by the window where Luciano sits alone. Even though I can only see his side profile, I am positive it's him.

"What?! What is it?!" Ebony demands as I hurry back into the kitchen, following closely on my heels.

"What is he doing here?" I mutter more so to myself than her, setting the tray down on a nearby counter.

"Who?"

I go over to the door, crack it open the tiniest bit, and point so she can see. "Him."

"Oh, he's cute." She nods approvingly with a smile curling her lips. "But who is he?"

"That's Luciano."

Her eyes widen. "The guy you ki-"

I loudly clear my throat and flick my eyes in Maddox's direction. Thankfully, she gets the message. I hadn't yet told him anything about Luciano despite his many attempts to pry for information. And I wasn't about to start now, the least of all with the kiss.

Maddox's eyes narrow on us as he leans against the wall, ankles crossed while munching on a stolen potato wedge.

Ebony turns to him. "Maddox, will you-"

"Leave the room so you can discuss this Luciano guy?" A raised eyebrow accompanies the monotonous tone of his voice.

"No. I was going to say deliver the food."

"Mmm. Same thing." He slowly straightens, crosses over to us, and collects the tray before heading for the door.

Just as he nears it, he stops and turns back. "Don't worry. Your staff will just tell me later." He says with the smuggest grin before tossing a parting wink over his shoulder as he exits the room.

"God," Ebony softly mutters, swiping her hand across her forehead.

"Forget about him," I pull her off to the side. "Just tell me, is he a regular?"

She shakes her head. "Not really. But he's come in here a few times with some model."

A model? I shouldn't be surprised. A man of his caliber probably attracted all sorts of women.

"Who?" I try to feign casualty even though I really want to know. More than I care to admit.

"I don't know. I believe it was Sara, Ciara or something or other." Her face scrunches up as she quietly contemplates it. "But anyways, forget about her. I thought you guys hit it off pretty well."

"We did."

"Okay, so why haven't you gone out with him?"

"He's asked or... tried rather. It's just after the break-in I..." I let out a deep breath letting my head fall back on my shoulders.

"Did you ghost him?!"

"No! Well... Kinda I needed some time to clear my head and stuff."

"Well, I understand that. But I think you might have missed your chance."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he's here with a woman, and they looked awfully friendly."

"That doesn't mean they're dating. She could be a friend o-o-or relative."

"Well, then you should have no problem serving them."

I glance at the door and then back at Ebony. She rests her hands on her hips and raises one brow in silent challenge.

"Nope, none at all." I grit out.

Turning for the door, I pull my shoulders back and slowly exhale before heading back out. After a quick stop at the bar to grab their drinks, a glass of white wine and a scotch on the rocks, I go over. My palms grow slick against the cool metal with every step.

When I finally reach his table, my presence goes unnoticed as he types a message into his cellphone.

"Here are your drinks," I say, setting the glasses in their respective spots before beating a hasty retreat. "And I'll be right back with your food."

"Thank you... Wait. Scarlett?"

My feet stop cold. And for a few excruciating seconds, I debate whether I should continue as if I hadn't heard or not. Even though I know it's way too late for that.

Holding back a frustrated sigh, I slowly turn around.

"Oh, Luciano. I didn't realize that was you." I say, smiling sweetly in hopes that it conceals my lie. "What a surprise."

"I could say the same. Do you work here too?"

"No, my friend owns this place, and I'm helping out tonight."

"Ah, okay. The food is amazing, by the way. And I've been obsessed with it these past few weeks."

"Really?"

He nods once.

"Well, I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to the chef."

"Please do." His voice drops to a husky murmur as he continues, "But I think I've found another reason to keep coming here."

Heat spreads across my cheeks, deepening underneath his unwavering stare while I struggle to formulate a sentence or, hell, anything to respond.

And when I finally do, he asks, "Would your friend mind if you joined me?"

"Umm... No, she wouldn't mind, but I don't want to impose." I gesture to the wine glass.

"Trust me. You're not imposing. If anything, my assistant will be grateful if you join so she can get out of discussing work."

"Your assistant?"

"Yes. Here she is now." He motions with his head to someone behind me.

I follow his gaze to a woman in a light peach dress that stops just below her knees with her strawberry blonde curls pinned haphazardly on her head. She appears no older than thirty, if not a year or two older, with dark green eyes and a light smattering of freckles across her nose.

"Scarlett, this is my assistant, Nora Waters." Luciano introduces me when she stands before me.

"Hello. Nice to meet you." She extends her hand toward me but stops midway as her phone beeps thrice.

"Sorry." She flashes an apologetic smile, pulling her phone from her purse. "News alerts. I've been keeping up the Sienna story."

"The what?"

"You know the missing model. Haven't you heard?"

"Um...I might have heard something in passing, but I didn't really stop to give it my full attention." I turn to Luciano. "What about you?"

His body goes oddly rigid as he quickly utters, "No."

There's no time to deeply contemplate it before a loud crash sounds from the kitchen.

"I should go see what that's about. Excuse me."