Page 29 of Family Bonds- Gabriela & Luca

Patrick had to be the owner who everyone was waiting for by the name on the front. Here he thought he’d be waiting for an hour by the looks of it.

And since Patrick could be his father’s age, and the guy who greeted him was much younger, he might luck out.

“Sure,” he said.

“I’m Dean.” He followed the younger man to the back.

“Luca,” he said, then took a seat. “Just need the back and sides cleaned up, maybe a bit off the top.”

Dean laughed. “Testing things out without a major change. I get it.”

There was no reason to say more.

Twenty minutes later, Dean did a pretty damn good job. “Thanks. It’s good.”

“Some of the older clientele only like the owner. Makes it harder to start out,” Dean said quietly when he finished.

“It takes time to prove yourself. I think we’ve all been there at some point in our lives.”

He paid, handed over a good tip, then pulled his phone out to text Gabriela. He had a bit more confidence now going in.

Something he’d been lacking for years.

At least outside of his career.

Maybe it was because they worked together, and this was just an extension of that. He was the one who offered lunch, not her. She just was going to chat about the island, but they both had to eat.

Not even a minute later, she replied and offered a cafe to meet at.

He plugged the name into his phone, then hit directions and had it spitting out the information in his car.

Surprisingly, she pulled in the same time he did. Guess it didn’t take long to get around this side of the island. Or she lived close by.

Didn’t she say she was only five minutes from the hospital? Made sense she’d pick a place close by there.

“Hey,” she said. “I should have asked how long it’d take you. I figured I’d get here first.”

“I wasn’t far away.”

“And you got you hairs cut.”

“Hairs?”

“Well, I’m positive it was more than one hair, so that would be plural. It always bothers me it’s not called hairs cut.”

“I never put much thought into it.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve probably put more thought into it than most.”

He pulled the door open for her. “Do you come here often?”

She burst out laughing. “That sounds like a cheesy pickup line and something tells me you’ve never had one of them in your life.”

“You’d be right,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Hey, Sandy. Can we get a booth in the back?”

“Sure can. Go take a seat.”