Via grinned up at him and Seb ignored the zinging flare up his elbow when her shoulder brushed him there. “I’m Italian. We bring food. Lots of food.”

He laughed. “It’s a good philosophy. It’ll make you friends.”

Via shrugged, her smile dimming just a little, and Seb wondered if she had many friends. People at school really liked her, so he didn’t think it was a matter of being prickly. But she definitely had a lonely kind of vibe coming off her.

They filled their plates with bagels and spreads, fruit salad and pastries galore. They sat at Seb’s dining room table, and he cracked the windows, letting the crisp fall breeze filter over them as he poured everyone a cup of coffee.

“So,” Serafine began as she tore her bagel up into little pieces and dipped them in the nearest tub of cream cheese. “How do you all know one another?”

Sebastian had been about to sit at one end of the table, between Mary and Via, but he realized, with a little jolt, that this was supposed to be a sort-of date with Serafine. It felt a little strange to sit down next to her, at the head of his table. Public and a little declarative. But whatever. He wasn’t going to be an asshole and pretend like he hadn’t made a coffee date with her. Seb glanced around the table as he settled himself in his chair and saw Mary’s curious gaze, Via’s eyes steadfastly on her plate, and strangely enough, his gaze clashed with Tyler’s. His best friend since childhood had an expression on his face that Seb had never seen before. What the hell was wrong with him? Sure, Fin was pretty, gorgeous even. But Tyler was acting like Cleopatra herself was gracing them with her presence.

“What’s that? Oh.” Seb tried to focus himself to answer the question. “Ty and I met in kindergarten. We’ve been best friends ever since. And Mary...” Was best friends with my wife? Was Cora’s friend from college? Helped scrape me off the sidewalk after my wife died? “...and I became close a few years ago when she moved to Brooklyn.”

“I own a little shop in Cobble Hill called Fresh. It’s a home goods store. Furniture and kitchenware and things like that. Design-y stuff.”

“Oh! I love that shop!” Via’s eyes lit up, and Seb had to hope that this was the point when this breakfast hang became a little less awkward. Everybody besides Serafine was acting like they were here against their will. “You had a window display there a few months ago that I lusted after.”

“With no shame,” Fin added in that deep Southern lilt of hers. It was musical, like a slow-moving river descending into waterfall. “She was a real home goods hussy for a while.”

Mary and Seb laughed.

“Which window display was it?” Mary asked.

“You’d set up the front room like a little living room. With that lavender suede couch and the metallic pillows. Oh! And the—”