Chapter 5
What mattered inside Honey & Rye was behavior.
Roman paid for his coffee.
Waited in line.
Never threatened anyone.
Never asked me again to pretend to be his girlfriend.
For nearly a month.
Which, unfortunately, was why I let my guard down.
The disaster arrived on a Tuesday morning wearing pearls.
Sophia came through the door at seven forty.
Alone.
That should have warned me.
“Good morning,” she said.
“No.”
She blinked.
“I haven’t asked anything.”
“You have the expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one you had before inventing my relationship with Roman.”
She placed a hand over her heart.
“I was improvising.”
“You lied.”
“For family harmony.”
“You’re terrifying.”
“Thank you.”
She ordered tea.
I made it.
Then she said casually, “Sunday lunch.”
“No.”
“Clare.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know—”
“I know enough.”
Sophia sighed.
“Lily asked whether you were coming.”
I stopped.
That was unfair.
She knew it.
Her eyes glittered.
“You weaponized a teenager.”
“I conveyed information.”
“What is Sunday lunch?”
“My birthday.”
I hesitated.
“How old?”
She looked offended.
“I withdraw the question.”
“Wise.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
“Who will be there?”
“Family.”
“That word means nothing coming from you.”
“About fourteen people.”
“Roman?”
She gave me a look.
“Obviously.”
“Lily?”
“Yes.”
That changed everything.
Sophia knew it.
I hated her more every minute.
“Fine.”
She smiled.
“But I’m not anyone’s girlfriend.”
“Of course.”
“And if you say otherwise—”
“I would never.”
“You already did.”
“People grow.”
Sunday arrived bright and cool.
I brought a lemon olive-oil cake.
Roman opened Sophia’s front door.
He wasn’t wearing a suit.
That was my first problem.
Dark trousers.
White shirt.
Sleeves rolled to his forearms.
No tie.
No jacket.
He looked less intimidating.
Which somehow made him more difficult to ignore.
His gaze dropped to the cake box.
“You came.”
“Sophia blackmailed me with your niece.”
“I assumed.”
“You knew?”
“I warned her not to.”
“You didn’t warn me.”
“I thought you would say no.”
“I did.”
“And yet.”
I pushed the cake toward him.
“Take this before I reconsider.”
He took it.
“Thank you.”
“Where’s Lily?”
“Back garden.”
I started past him.
“Clare.”
I turned.
Roman hesitated.
That was new.
“What?”
“My family believes—”
“No.”
“I haven’t finished.”
“I know where this sentence is going.”
“They believe we’re seeing each other.”
I closed my eyes.
“Roman.”
“I have repeatedly corrected Sophia.”
“Repeatedly?”
“Twice.”
“Heroic.”
“She ignores me.”
“That I believe.”
He lowered his voice.
“I can explain to everyone today.”
“You should.”
“I intend to.”
“Good.”
A pause.
“Unless you’d prefer—”
I pointed toward him.
“Finish that sentence and the cake is going on your shirt.”
His mouth curved.
“Understood.”
The lunch itself was surprisingly ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Children ran through the yard.
An uncle argued about baseball.
Two cousins debated whether a restaurant in River North had gone downhill.
Sophia complained that nobody appreciated her garden.
Lily sat beside me.
Roman sat across from us.
I expected whispers.
Suspicious glances.
Questions.
Instead, Roman’s family treated me with warm, slightly amused acceptance.
That was worse.
His cousin Matteo asked how long we’d known each other.
“Five weeks,” I said.
Roman simultaneously said, “Not long.”
Matteo grinned.
“Fast work.”
“We are not dating.”
The table quieted.
Fourteen faces turned toward us.
Sophia studied her wineglass.
Roman set down his fork.
“No,” he confirmed. “We’re not.”
Matteo looked confused.
“But Aunt Sophia—”
“Was mistaken.”
Sophia muttered, “Temporarily.”
I glared at her.
Roman continued.
“Clare is Lily’s friend.”
Something about that answer surprised me.
He could have said my friend.
He didn’t.
He made it about Lily.
Lily looked at him.
Then at me.
And smiled.
The conversation eventually moved on.
After lunch, Lily pulled me upstairs to show me photographs she’d printed.
Chicago in rain.
Train windows.
Reflections in puddles.
A woman carrying grocery bags under an umbrella.
Roman standing alone on a balcony, photographed from behind.
That one stopped me.
“When did you take this?”
“Last year.”
He looked completely different.
Not physically.
Lonely.
“What was happening?”
Lily shrugged.
“That was after Grandpa died.”
I looked at her.
Roman had never mentioned his father.
“He took care of everything,” she said.
“The funeral?”
“Everything.”
She adjusted the stack.
“My grandmother. Sophia. Mom. The businesses. Everybody.”
The words sounded familiar.
He took care of everything.
I thought of my own bakery.
My employees.
My mother before she moved to Wisconsin.
The years after Dad left.
Competence could become a cage.
Maybe Roman understood that better than I realized.
Downstairs, voices rose slightly.
Not angry.
Concerned.
Lily froze.
I noticed immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She moved toward the door.
At the bottom of the stairs, Roman stood with a woman I hadn’t met.
She was beautiful.
Dark hair.
Expensive coat.
Eyes exactly like Lily’s.
Her mother.
I knew before anyone introduced her.
Lily stopped three steps above me.
Roman looked up.
Everything changed in his face.
Not fear.
Calculation.
Care.
“Lily,” the woman said.
Lily’s hand tightened around the banister.
“Mom.”
Her mother smiled uncertainly.
“I thought I’d surprise you.”
Nobody moved.
Then Lily asked, “Why?”
Her mother’s smile faded.
“I missed you.”
Sophia appeared from the dining room.
She looked genuinely surprised.
So did everyone else.
This had not been planned.
Roman stepped aside.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming, Elena.”
“I didn’t think I needed permission to see my daughter.”
“You don’t.”
His tone remained calm.
Elena looked toward Lily.
“I wanted to talk about summer.”
Lily’s expression closed instantly.
Roman noticed.
So did I.
Elena continued.
“Your room in Arizona is ready.”
“Mom.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about this today.”
“I flew here because every time I call—”
Roman cut in gently.
“Elena.”
She turned.
“Don’t.”
One word.
Not threatening.
Just exhausted.
“He always does this,” she told me suddenly.
I blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
Elena gestured toward Roman.
“He makes everything easier for her.”
Roman’s face changed.
“Not here.”
“Why not? Everybody already thinks you’re some perfect substitute parent.”
“Elena.”
“He gets to be the safe one because he never asks her to do anything she doesn’t want.”
Lily looked stricken.
Roman stepped toward his sister.
“Stop.”
Still quiet.
Still controlled.
But Lily turned and went upstairs.
Elena closed her eyes.
Roman immediately started after her.
I caught his sleeve.
He looked at my hand.
Then at me.
“Five minutes,” I said softly.
His jaw tightened.
Behind us, Elena whispered, “What did you just say?”
Roman didn’t answer.
He looked upstairs.
Then he stayed.
Five minutes later, Lily came down carrying her coat.
“I want to go.”
Roman nodded.
“Okay.”
Elena looked devastated.
“Lily—”
“Not today.”
For once, Roman didn’t speak for her.
Lily repeated, “Not today.”
Her mother nodded slowly.
“All right.”
Roman took the car keys from the entry table.
I stepped back.
Lily looked at me.
“Can Clare come?”
Roman stopped.
I looked at her.
“Where?”
“I don’t care.”
Elena looked hurt.
May you like
Sophia looked worried.
Roman looked at me as though he wasn’t sure whether asking would be fair.
