The House of Hope & Chocolate (Friends & Neighbors Book 1) Page 3

  “I hear ya,” Vinnie said in a hoarse voice.

  “Since you asked,” Alice said, her voice extra soft. “Vinnie, how are you really?”

  He jerked his thumb in Hank’s direction. “I’ve done some bawling too, but we always pretend it’s that wretched cleaning product we use. My dad used to say that the more tears a man shed, the bigger his heart was. Right now, I feel like I’m competing with the big guy from ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’ It’s hard, seeing my mom so frail—she wasn’t even like this when my dad died ten years ago—and we both miss my aunt. Then there’s the restaurant. Alice, I’m so glad you guys bought it. I know you’ll love the place like we did. Sarah was a great customer back in the day, and we always loved seeing you when you came to town to visit.”

  She patted her chest with her hand. “Thank you, Vinnie.”

  Both of them had shining eyes, as if they were just this side of tears, and Hank had to take a deep breath to get his own emotions under control. He cleared his throat. “You said you needed to talk to me?”

  Shaking herself, she turned to him. “Yes. Would you like to go somewhere private?”

  “Would he ever,” Vinnie said with a laugh.

  Alice’s brow rose, and Hank wished he understood what that meant. He shot Vinnie a look. “Eager to swim with the fishes, are you?”

  “Those are my people, man,” Vinnie said, snapping his suspenders and falling into their neighborhood banter. “You Irish like the baseball bats. Anyway, you might not have said anything, but Sarah told me you two got all hot and bothered last Thanksgiving. I’m just saying… Life is way too short. I’ve never believed that more than I do now.”

  “Sarah told you that, did she?” Alice asked. “Well, she would have known.”

  Every muscle in Hank’s body locked, hearing that.

  “She was a good wing woman. And I’m a good wingman,” he said, gesturing to Hank, “so go talk in private. I’ll turn my Dean Martin up and sing. Won’t hear a thing.”

  Normally Hank would have walked over to her, taken her elbow, and led her to the backroom. But Covid was tough on good manners. Instead, he pointed to the hallway leading back to his office, and she preceded him. A cheesy Dean Martin song began to play over the loudspeakers, making Alice laugh.

  “He wasn’t kidding!” she exclaimed. “Man, I love your new soundtrack. Never imagined you’d go for that.”

  “I can’t play ‘I’m Shipping Up to Boston’ or ‘The Wild Rover’ every day. It started as a way to keep his spirits up. But some customers who miss Two Sisters have been hearing the music and coming in. Everyone remembers Vinnie singing at the restaurant, whether he was bussing tables or seating people.”

  They arrived at his small back office next to the kitchen. She turned to him. “It was nice of you to help him like that. Sometimes people swing by to check on our progress, and a few people have told me what Two Sisters meant to them. There are a lot of happy memories in that building. Keeping it alive here, even in a small way, is an act of kindness, Hank O’Connor, and I’m happy for you both.”

  Hank had his fair share of good memories from Two Sisters, always accompanied by Vinnie’s voice, red dripping candles running down leftover Chianti bottles, and the smell of Mama Gia’s lasagna and garlic bread flavoring the air. “People have a special nostalgia for Two Sisters. A lot of them celebrated important events there. First Communions or high school graduations. I even know of a couple of men who proposed marriage there.”

  “And people come to O’Connor’s to have really good beer or whiskey and chat in a festive environment. That’s why Sarah loved it. And me too, when I visited her.”

  The flash he’d been waiting for brightened her eyes. He told himself to settle down. The other part of him said, Like hell.

  He gestured to the worn desk chair with the faded wine-colored seat. “This about six feet? Let me open a window.”

  “I won’t be taking my mask off inside, but some fresh air would be great.”

  He wanted to see her face. Couldn’t wait another moment to see her lush lips suddenly. “What if we talk outside? I really hate the masks sometimes. I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone or Watchmen. Sometimes I do a double take when Vinnie talks to me. I’ve seen that pretty boy mug of his my whole life and hell…I miss it.”

  She was quiet a moment. “That’s incredibly sweet. I feel like that with Clifton too, but we agreed to keep masks on inside at all times. He’s eighty-one, and we had to set some ground rules. I’m protective of him, and he is of me too.”

  Hank liked hearing that. He didn’t have enough bad words for the yahoos who flouted good sense and health guidelines. “Vinnie moved into the attic above his mother’s garage to watch over her and save some money.”

  “That’s beyond sweet too, and admirable. Part of me wishes Clifton had decided to stay in Sarah’s house with me rather than rent his own place. You know…I only see his face when we’re outdoors now, and I try to be grateful for those moments. Seeing a person’s whole face isn’t something I’ll ever take for granted again.”

  “Me either.”

  He led the way this time, choosing a large table that met the requisite social distancing. Also, it had an umbrella to shield her fair skin from the sun. They both sat. He slowly took off his mask, and his breath caught as she did the same. Her cheeks were rosy, calling to his fingertips to trace them. He’d forgotten she had such a cute button nose. But his gaze quickly settled on her mouth.

  Her smile was slightly bashful, and she pointed to her lips balefully. “No lip gloss, right? Why wear it under the mask? It smudges.”

  Funny how it wasn’t something he’d thought about, but then again, he was a guy. “You don’t need it. You’re beautiful, Alice.” He scanned the details of her face again, from the kissable naked mouth to the sweetly pointed chin before raising his gaze to her big brown eyes. “I like this better.”

  “Me too,” she said, misunderstanding him.

  He wasn’t going to correct her.

  “Even though I believe in masks, sometimes I feel like it’s stealing our humanity, making us anonymous somehow. But let’s stop those dark thoughts and talk about something hopeful.”

  He settled back in his chair. “You bet. Got something in mind?”

  “Yep and it’s a doozy,” she said. “I don’t have a lot of details yet, but I know one thing. I want to have a chocolate festival. With you.”

  His mouth went dry, and he struggled for composure. “Okay…”

  “Maybe the Coffee Roastery too. Chocolate and beer and coffee. It’s a winning combo.”

  “Tell me more,” he said. If nothing else, this would give him the chance to spend time with her.

  By the end, he could see the promise of her idea, although they had a lot of details to fill in. “Baker has a strong base of customers, and he’s a good guy.”

  “Sarah always liked him. She got coffee from the Coffee Roastery every day before she got on the train. I haven’t seen him much since I’ve been back. Opening a shop is nonstop work.”

  “Your to-do list must be crazy. As for Baker, he’s going through a divorce, but he’ll want to make time for this. I’ll talk to him if you’d like. Then the three of us can meet and talk specifics. Because doing anything right now will mean meeting crazy health and safety standards.”

  “We can do some video promotions,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Are you on social media?”

  He laughed. “No. That keeps falling off my checklist. I’m just trying to get through all of this. You know?”

  Her eyes darkened, and he felt the pull of those big brown eyes. He was in real trouble of falling for her. A voice in his head corrected him—again. You’re in danger of falling for her again.

  Vinnie came out from the side door to their outdoor seating, a tray in his hand. “Put your masks on,” he said in his boisterous voice. “I’m coming out with drinks and a snack.”

  Ever the host, Hank thought, shooting his friend
a smile before he and Alice put their masks back on. Vinnie set a carafe of red wine and two glasses in front of them, as well as a plate of mozzarella sticks with a side of the new marinara sauce he’d insisted on making, saying it was a step above that swill O’Connor’s long-time chef and Hank’s godfather served out of the jar. Marty wasn’t any happier with the changes Vinnie was instituting than Hank’s dad was, but Hank tried to stay out of the middle. He loved the old cuss.

  “How would you feel about doing some video promotion for O’Connor’s chocolate beers, Vinnie?” Alice asked as he filled the glasses with wine. “You’d be a natural on camera.”

  Hank started laughing, and Vinnie joined in. “If you want to do that, I’ll need to bring in some more beers. You want to help with that, Vinnie?”

  “What’s so funny?” Alice asked.

  “I’m not a beer drinker,” he said, rolling his eyes. “At all. As this guy can attest.”

  “Vinnie always orders wine, even at Irish pubs,” Hank said. “It used to embarrass the hell out of me. Almost got us beaten up in Yonkers one night.”

  “You and beer,” Vinnie shot back. “You kept telling my mama she should add beer to the menu at Two Sisters. She wanted to smack you sometimes even though she knew you were only teasing her. Sorry, Alice, Hank’s your guy for beer. Have fun, you two.”

  He took off with the tray and they lowered their masks again. Alice sipped her wine.

  “It’s a lovely Chianti, right?”

  Hank barked out a laugh. “Vinnie’s favorite vintage. He made it a condition of me hiring him. Along with the prosecco on my menu.” That wasn’t completely true. Hank had done it willingly enough. He wanted to do whatever he could to make sure his best friend was okay.

  “Well, if Vinnie doesn’t feel comfortable talking beer, maybe you…”

  The thought of him being front and center gave him hives. “I’m not sure I’m your guy for videos.”

  “You’d be a natural! I mean, you’re so compelling. And you have the sexiest voice ever. Women are going to go crazy for it. And that dimple. Oh, goodness! Listen to me. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”

  Their eyes met, and that frosty night over a year ago loomed large in his mind. “You didn’t. Not. One. Bit.”

  The full flash he’d been waiting for surged into her eyes then. And this time it stayed there.

  She blew out a breath before saying, “Great! Good! I’m totally blabbing, but it’s like I can’t stop. Vinnie was right. Maybe we should talk about the moment we shared last fall. I’m living here now, and we’re going to run into each other.”

  “We are,” he said, looking at her naked mouth before lifting his gaze to hers. “So let’s talk.”

  “Me first?” She released another giant breath that could have blown the colorful leaves off the trees. “Okay… I thought about it a lot afterward. It was a wonderful night, and I never thanked you.”

  He didn’t want her thanks. Suddenly all he wanted was another night like that with her. “It was a magical night, Alice. One I won’t ever forget.”

  She swallowed thickly before saying, “You were so present. I mean…I did most of the talking. I usually do. But I didn’t have to nudge you to talk back. You shared your dreams for the pub, and they were beautiful. What you said about bringing people together at the pub, creating community…it stayed with me. That’s what I want for our shop.”

  Those dreams seemed to be on the other side of the moon right now, and he had a moment of deep sadness at the thought.

  “Then there was the way you looked at me.”

  The image of her in a white parka came to mind. She’d stayed past closing, and they’d agreed to a late-night walk up Main Street. They’d spent the whole time looking into each other’s eyes, nearly stumbling because of it.

  “The snow was falling softly. You took my hand to make sure I wouldn’t fall on the slick pavement.”

  He still remembered how her warmth had reached out to him, even in the frosty cold. “The tips of your hair were wet from the snow, and your face was all dewy pink. I’d always thought you were beautiful, but that night you took my breath away. Hard to imagine a better night with a woman. You in the snow. Talking about life and our dreams for the future. Kissing on that bench.”

  She set her wine down and reached her hand out, but it stopped short before reaching him. He could tell she’d remembered at the last moment they weren’t supposed to touch. Shit, he wished he could hold her hand too.

  “Honestly, I never talk that much. Except with Vinnie.” Which was why his connection with Alice had felt so significant. “If you’d been local, I would have asked you out again.”

  “But my job was elsewhere,” she said softly, “and we both knew that.”

  “We did. Didn’t stop me from thinking about you, though… Hell, I almost pandemic emailed you.”

  “You did?” She lifted a hand to her heart.

  “Yeah.” His shoulder lifted. “You were my last kiss before everything went south, and I found myself thinking that if I got the virus, your taste would be the last one I’d had.”

  “My taste…” She blinked rapidly. “That’s really hot.”

  Damn straight it was. His gaze dipped to her mouth again.

  “It was my last kiss too,” she admitted. “I can still feel how hot your mouth was against the coolness of your face. I couldn’t open my eyes after you pulled away, and that had never happened to me before.”

  His control was ebbing away, but he couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t even imagine stopping her. “What else do you remember?”

  She blinked and put her hands to her blushing cheeks. “Oh goodness! I’m probably saying too much, but heck, I was thinking I need more carpe diem and Walt Whitman yawps in my life. Hank, if I ask you to go out with me, would you say yes?”

  He had no idea what she meant by “yawps,” but his attention was fully focused on what she’d said last. All the reasons he should say no tried to assert themselves. The timing was bad, wasn’t it? Really bad. But it didn’t matter—none of the possible drawbacks or pitfalls could find purchase against the thought of kissing her again and having another night like that one. They hadn’t had a chance then. They did now. “You bet I would.”

  She picked up her wine and held out her glass. “Great! I know we both have a lot going on, and while I have no idea what a date looks like in these times, I know we’re going to rock it.”

  A smile drifted across his face. “Alice Bailey, you are full of surprises. Here I was thinking you had too much on your plate, and I had way too much weight in my own world.”

  “We can’t ignore carpe diem anymore. Not after what we’ve been through. I say it’s time to take the bull by the horns. Damn the torpedoes and full steam ahead.”

  He started laughing. “This is part of why I’ve never forgotten that night. Alice, beyond the talking, you also made me laugh. The only person who usually does that is Vinnie.”

  “Then I’ll pull out all my best jokes for our date,” she said, making a funny face that somehow only made her cuter.

  “And no lip gloss,” he said softly.

  She gulped but nodded.

  “I’ll figure out some ideas for us. How about this Saturday? The way things have been going, the pub will be pretty much dead by eight. Vinnie would be happy to close in the interest of romance. We could meet at seven thirty if that’s not too late.”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll also text you some ideas if you give me your number. Maybe a funny meme or two.” She smiled at him. “To cheer you up.”

  Just being with her cheered him up. It felt like a different day from just half an hour ago, when he’d sat looking at those dismal numbers and feeling the press of the future.

  Hands twitching to touch her, he held them in his lap and said, “I know coming back here is nothing like you thought, but I’m glad you’re here, Alice.”

  Her slow smile glowed brighter than a sunrise. “Me too.”

  He
finally put a finger on why his chest felt so much fuller.

  She’d brought hope back into his life.

  Chapter 3

  Chocolate making suited Clifton’s orderly manner.

  Alice would say it fed his soul.

  But of course, she spoke with such whimsy as a matter of course. He was still learning this new language, one of the heart, but he was an eager pupil. At eighty-one, he was an improbable first-time business owner. Even more improbable was that he, a man who’d forgone a family of his own, had found one in Alice. Up until recently, he’d spent most of his life alone, save for his beloved former boss.

  He surveyed Clara’s most recent text:

  Good morning, Clifton! I see the weather continues to be unusually warm your way, which I take as a good sign for your shop. I hope it continues, and I trust you and Alice continue to move toward the opening. Your last picture of your new test truffles made my mouth water, and I’ve asked our new assistant if truffles are a possibility. Murrieta is making good inroads working for us, although I knew going into it there was no one who could ever replace you. Unfortunately, she’s resisted making Indian food, given Arthur’s bark over the cuisine. You know how he is… Tell Alice hello. We’ll talk soon, my friend.

  Friend. Yes, they were that, and it pleased him to be in that hallowed company as much as the news that Murrieta was working out. Clara checked in with her entire Merriam family in the mornings, after her yoga, tai chi, or Qigong practice, and Clifton was honored to now be on her check-in list. He used to exercise with Clara, something he missed, although Alice often joined him for a session after her morning run through the neighborhood.

  His neighborhood too.

  Up until now, Clifton had never had a true home, having spent most of his life as a butler in service to Clara. His choices of décor and style had been expressions of Clara’s taste, not his own. Service ran in his blood, or so his father had always said—he had been a butler too, and his father before him. It made him uniquely qualified to work at a shop such as theirs—he could discern what had brought a customer inside and what kind of discussion and treat would best feed their soul. He was, after all, a master at intuiting other people’s deepest needs and desires and encouraging them toward something they wanted or needed.