“Hey, lover boy,” Aldo called to Luke, holding his bottle aloft. “If you’re done staring dreamily at your girl, I’m empty, and it’s your turn to play host.”

Gloria had watched Aldo throughout the night. He’d stuck with water until after dinner. This would be his second beer. Aldo Moretta didn’t seem like the kind of man to overindulge in anything.

“Sure. No problem.” Luke rose from his chair and reached for Aldo’s empty. He tipped his friend’s chair sideways and dumped Aldo onto the ground.

Gloria winced, waiting for his reaction, waiting for the quick rush of anger, the escalating retaliation.

But Aldo sat on the grass and laughed.

“Ladies, can I get you anything?” Luke offered.

Harper jumped to her feet. “I’ll help you,” she offered brightly. They hurried toward the house.

Aldo climbed gracefully to his feet, brushing the dirt from his shorts. He took the seat that Harper had vacated next to Gloria. “I give it ten minutes before they kick us out,” he predicted.

“Well, it is a work night,” Gloria said.

“I don’t think they’re worried about getting a good night’s sleep,” He said with a wink. “So, how are things?”

“Things?” she repeated. Gloria ran a hand through her hair, still surprised at the length. She was suffering from nightmares of a reality she’d only just exited. She had no concrete plans, no confidence, and she wanted another piece of pie. But she was spending a spring evening under the stars with the boy from high school who gave her butterflies. “Things are pretty good.”

“What’s next for you?” He asked.

Stop the dreams. Remember what it’s like to be a person. “I’m looking for a job,” she blurted out.

“Yeah?” Aldo asked, looking interested. “What kind of a job?”

Gloria chewed on her lip. “I don’t know. Something that makes me feel good. Something that lets me do something…nice.” She laughed. “How’s that for vague?”

“I’d offer you a job at my office, but I have a feeling designing bridge restorations and expense reports wouldn’t be good or nice.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Probably not.” She’d once wanted to be in fashion or marketing. Something with color and beauty and fun. Though getting to stare at Aldo Moretta all day would be its own perk.

But she didn’t want to be beholden to anyone. She wanted to earn a spot somewhere.

“You’re staying around here, aren’t you?” Aldo pressed. His tone and his warm brown eyes were serious.

She nodded, her earrings swinging against her neck. “Yeah. I’m staying.”

That was one thing she wasn’t going to let Glenn Diller take from her. Home.

9