“It is if you make it enough.”

He glanced toward the swinging door that led to the kitchen. “Have you told that to your friend Angi?”

Mariella’s gaze followed his, then tracked to Bianca, who stood with Dominic in the corner, glaring at the spread of food on the table.

“She told me her mother found out that she was still working here. I thought Mrs. Guilardi might realize how much it means to Ang. That it would make her see she doesn’t belong at the restaurant. This is where she needs to be.”

“Because she likes it?” Gabe asked, not bothering to hide the skepticism in his tone.

“It’s more than that. It makes her happy. Having something that she’s created on her own fulfills her in a way the restaurant never will. That’s important.”

“I’m not arguing.”

“You’re important to her, too.”

He blinked.

“Only until the new year,” he said, ignoring the ache in his chest at the thought.

“Only if you screw it up.”

“I screwed up by agreeing to it from the start. We are what we are now.”

“Change it,” Mariella told him.

“Make peace with Alex Ralsten.”

“There’s a difference. I don’t care about him.”

“You care more than you let on. Unfortunately, we have that in common.”

Bianca approached at that moment, giving Mariella a glaring once-over, as if she were the ringleader of a biker gang that had led unsuspecting, innocent Angi astray.

“That’s my cue,” Mariella said under her breath. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Guilardi.”

Angi’s mother only sniffed and looked away.

“We are what we make ourselves,” Mariella said to Gabe, and she moved toward where Emma and Cam stood near the head of the table.

“I don’t like that girl,” Bianca said as she glared after Mariella. “She has bad energy.”

Gabe shrugged. “She’s had some tough breaks in life, but she’s a talented designer and a good friend to your daughter.”

Another derisive sniff. “If those two were true friends of my daughter, they wouldn’t ask her to continue working when she’s needed at the restaurant.”

Gabe placed his drink on the buffet situated to his left. “She likes her work at the inn.”

“It’s a distraction,” Bianca insisted. “One she has no time for.”

He was a distraction as well, but he didn’t bother to bring that up.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done this week, Mrs. Guilardi. It’s meant a lot to me.”

“You’re like family, Gabriel.”

He inwardly cringed.

“I’m sorry your mother wasn’t able to make it to the service.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his gut churning. “Mom works retail, so it’s difficult to take off right before the holidays. We’ll do something to honor Gran’s memory when she arrives.”

He assumed she’d show up once the contents of the will were made public. In truth, he had no idea what his mother was thinking about the future. She’d been terse and defensive when he’d called to tell her about Gran’s passing. The bit about her working retail wasn’t a lie, but he had no idea if she could have gotten time off or not. She’d simply told him she couldn’t make the trip, and he hadn’t questioned her.