“All right, I’m out of here.” Sienna swallows the rest of her drink.
“Where are you going?” I ask, surprised.
“I have a date. Call me after dinner, and we’ll hook up.” She lifts her clutch off the bar and then gives me two air kisses, one on each cheek. “Later, girl. Oh, and don’t tell my dad I have a date. Tell him I’m having cake at a friend’s house for her birthday. If he asks who, just say Jessica. I know, like, seven Jessicas.” She puts her glass down and then waves to Jesse, who has reappeared, as she bounces out of the restaurant.
Like a girl in the aftermath of a tornado, I have to collect myself.
“She’s a whirlwind, huh?” Jesse asks as he makes drinks.
“The Tasmanian devil is more like it,” I say with a laugh.
“She’ll be hard to keep up with at the club tonight.” He smirks, his gaze roaming quickly around the room.
“Oh, no, I won’t be going to any club. The idea of being in a sweat box with a few hundred people who are too high to know where they are is my idea of hell.”
His smirk deepens. “Good to know. I was worried that cringe you made was at the thought of me actually joining you.”
“I would have loved it if you came,” I say way too easily and am mortified. “Not love. I would have just had more fun if you came. But not too much because I hate clubs.”
“That’s because you haven’t been to a club with the right person.”
He turns and serves a couple on the other side of the square-shaped bar, chatting with them for a minute.
I take a moment to check myself. Mostly my nervousness, which is completely out of character. I’m not the nervous type. And I definitely don’t fumble over my words. It’s his eyes. They’re like turquoise gems of hypnosis.
“There’s my pride and joy!” a deep baritone bellows. My father, Raphael Sorrentino, looks handsome in his suit as he walks toward me. The man might work in sanitation, but he’s dressed to the nines every day.
I hop off the stool and give him a kiss hello. “Hi, Daddy. Mom and Gia are on their way. Gia’s dance class ran long.”
“Maronna mia, how can those two be late for everything and you’re always here on time?”
“Must take after my old man.”
He places a hand on my upper back and beams proudly. “That’s my girl. Jesse!” My father gets the bartender’s attention. “Did you know my Amelia is now a senior auditor at DeLuca & Associates?”
“Just a regular auditor, up from my junior position. There’s no senior in the title,” I clarify to Jesse. “Please don’t make a fuss,” I beg my father.
He waves his arm around the room. “Drinks for everyone!”
“Dad, it’s okay—”
“Can’t a man celebrate his oldest daughter’s success?” He pinches his fingers on both hands together and holds them up as he explains, “I didn’t go to college like you. I didn’t even graduate high school, so forgive me if I’m basking in the excitement of my daughter doing so well in life.” He calls over a few of my uncles—Vic, Joey, and Enzo. “Grab a glass. Except for you, Joey, you cheap bastard.” He laughs, and everyone joins in, including Uncle Joey, who grabs a glass anyway.
“To Amelia. Smarter than her old man. More beautiful than her mother—though no one here had better tell Joanne I said so.” More laughs ensue, and then my father gets serious. “This one here is going to do great things for the Sorrentino name. I couldn’t be prouder. Salute!”
“Salute!” The room erupts in cheers, and everyone drinks, including me.
My father tugs me further into his side, and I’m given kisses by my uncles.
When the fanfare has subsided, I slither back onto my stool.
“Not a fan of the attention?” Jesse asks.
“No,” I answer emphatically. “Big difference between me and my sister, Gia. She’s the performer. I’m the nerd.”
His gaze goes to the back of the room, where men are talking, and then comes back to me. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Nerds are cool. Look at Dr. Deborah Birx during the coronavirus or Karen Uhlenbeck. She won the Abel for mathematics, which is like the Nobel Prize. Those women are badass.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
I smooth out my dress. “I much prefer to sit in the corner with my copper mug and make quiet conversation with a friend.”
His dimples appear. “I’m glad to oblige.”
My smile is bashful because I was actually talking about Sienna, but it’s nice to know he considers himself my friend. It’s sweet, as is the way he always seems to hear what I have to say even though his attention is given to the room.
Jesse knows who is where and what is needed at all times. I wish I had his ability to be in two conversations at once.
“So, if you don’t club with members, what do you do on a Friday night?” I ask.
“The usual.”
“That’s really vague.”
He shrugs as he pours a draft. “I do what you do. Drink with friends. Watch movies. Catch a UFC fight.”
“You’re a UFC fan?”
“You sound surprised.”
Something by the entrance of the room catches his attention. He’s talking, yet he doesn’t seem to be fully in our conversation.
“Are you a fighter?”
He looks back at me with a confused expression. My question is still lingering on my lips as I wonder if I asked the wrong thing.
His jaw tightens as he bows down with his eyes closed, almost annoyed with himself. “Do you want another drink?”
“I’m good.” I hold up my half-filled cup.
“Right.” He pats the bar top, seeming uncomfortable.
Uncle Frankie walks up to the bar, and Jesse moves quickly to tend to him. He leans in, and Jesse
