Read Online Just a Taste by Deirdre Martin - Free Book Online

working, rather than live with Natalie in Manhattan. She did get lonely sometimes, but that would change soon enough when the restaurant was up and running. She’d be living, eating, and breathing Vivi’s; time alone would become something she yearned for. A memory.
    She watched as Natalie’s eyes slowly made a circuit around the room, hopeful that Natalie’s imagination was as strong as her own, and that she was seeing the room as Vivi saw it: alive with talk, laughter, and the smell of mouthwatering food prepared by Vivi. Instead, Natalie’s mouth was pinched as she pointed to the back wall. “I’m not so sure having the kitchen there is a good idea. Maybe there would be better.” She pointed to the left.
    Vivi’s hands curled at her sides. “Natalie, we discussed this. The architect drew up plans according to our specifications. You can’t go changing things around now.”
    “Can’t I? It’s my money.”
    Vivi ignored the barb. “One minute you’re saying the DiDinato brothers’ estimate is too high; the next you’re implying that we have enough money to tear up the original plans and start over because you’re having second thoughts about the kitchen. Do we have enough money or not? Which is it?”
    Natalie blinked with surprise. “Why are you upset, Vivi?”
    “Why?” Vivi replied, trying not to sound shrill. “Because at every turn, you remind me that you hold the purse strings. I’m fully aware that I couldn’t do this without you. But you said you wanted to be a silent partner, and leave all the details to me. Money is no object, you told me. But clearly it is.”
    “Look at the balance in the account. We have nothing to worry about.”
    “Then why nitpick over the brothers’ price?”
    Natalie hesitated. “I don’t want us to be taken advantage of. I don’t want people thinking they can push us around just because we’re foreigners.”
    “Believe me, Natalie, no one would ever think that of us. That’s one thing we both inherited from Papa: a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude.”
    “Vivi!” Natalie looked horrified. “Watch your language. You’re starting to sound a bit, well—”
    “Amerique?” Vivi offered.
    “Oui.”
    “Good, I’m glad.”
    Natalie’s eyes once again swept the empty store. “Don’t you ever get homesick?”
    “Of course I do,” Vivi admitted quietly. She missed her mother and grandmother desperately. “Don’t you?”
    “Yes and no. I miss my mother”—her eyes glanced away from Vivi’s—“and a few friends.”
    Vivi looked down at the floor. Things felt out of joint. Natalie must have felt it, too; she came over to Vivi and kissed her cheek.
    “Let’s make up.”
    Vivi lifted her head, bemused. “Are we fighting?”
    “I don’t know. Are we?”
    “I’m not sure.” Vivi knitted her brows. “Natalie, please. If you would like to be more involved in the day-to-day decisions regarding the restaurant—”
    Natalie held up her hand. “No. It’s fine. This is your domain, Vivi. I was wrong to be so pushy about the contractors, and about the kitchen.”
    “Are you sure? Because I don’t think my nerves can take it if every time you come in here, you want to change something.”
    Natalie reddened. “From now on, I promise I’ll be perfectly happy to let you write the checks from the restaurant account.”
    “Good.” Vivi returned her kiss on the cheek. “I guess we’ll just wait for the DiDinatos to come back—”
    “With their ‘samwiches,’” Natalie sniffed. “Honestly, the way some of these people speak…”
    “Natalie?”
    “Yes?”
    “Do me a favor.”
    “Yes?”
    Vivi put her index finger to her lips. “Shhh.”
    Natalie covered her face and laughed. “As you wish.”
     
    “C ’mon, Little Ant! Hustle, hustle, hustle!”
    Anthony and his sister-in-law Theresa exchanged worried glances as Michael Dante stood up with his hands cupped around his mouth, coaching his son from the stands. It was Little Ant’s