Since her mother’s heart attack, Angi had slid a menu item in here or there just to please herself. She loved trying new things with regular ingredients. By and large, customers had appreciated her attempts to reinvigorate the offerings, but she knew her mom wouldn’t.

“Has Mom noticed?”

Dom frowned. “I don’t think so. We were slammed by the time she got here, so she’s been occupied with waiting on customers.”

“She can’t know what I’ve done.”

“Angela, you’re saving the business she’s dedicated most of her adult life to building.”

“The restaurant was fine,” she lied.

“Your father was my best friend. I know that’s not true.”

Angi blinked, unsure how to respond, not knowing what to do next. The adrenaline that had propelled her through the morning seemed to drain away in an instant.

From getting Andrew ready for the day with the scout troop to the bridal shower to the lunch crowd frenzy, she’d hurtled through the day on autopilot. Now she couldn’t move forward. She couldn’t seem to move at all. Her limbs felt heavy with fatigue. How was she supposed to deal with all of the different people relying on her? Needing different things from her.

Expecting more than she could give.

“I’m glad customers like my food.”

“They do.”

“Why was your father’s food not good enough?”

Angi whirled at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Mom, that’s not what this is about.”

“He put his heart and soul into this restaurant. Il Rigatone was his life. Our life. We made our home in this town. Raised you and your brothers here. Now you want to change everything?”

“Mom, please—”

Bianca’s hand cut through the air like a knife blade.

“You disrespect me and your father’s memory. His legacy.”

Angi could feel the eyes of every employee in the kitchen watching the scene unfold. She’d spent so much time taking care of her mother and her mom’s feelings. Giving up her apartment and her freedom in order to make sure her mom was taken care of.

“Can we talk somewhere else, Mom?”

Bianca’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps we could take a short field trip to the Wildflower Inn since that’s where you’re still spending so much of your time.”

“I... You can’t... I don’t...”

“You think I haven’t known?” Her mother gave a sharp shake of her head. “I see the shadows under your eyes and watch you downing coffee and then diet soda like it’s your lifeline.”

“Mom, I’m sorry.” Angi looked between her mother and Dominic. He gave her a sympathetic nod.

“You’re sorry,” Bianca repeated, her voice reed thin. “But you’re lying to me. You’re lying to all of us.”

Heat infused Angi’s cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, and tried to blink back the tears that flooded her eyes.

Dominic cleared his throat. “We still have more customers to serve.” He leveled a pointed glance at Bianca. “People who are happy with the current offerings on the menu and the specials I chose to serve.”