On Tuesday night, she strolled through the restaurant section of the roadhouse, checking that the hostess was equitably seating people so no server got overloaded, the busser was speedy and thorough in cleaning off tables, glasses were kept filled, food was served promptly when up. And the customers were smiling. Definitely that.

She still couldn’t believe Bull had given her the position, despite knowing she would return to New York.

And would leave him. She didn’t want to. Just…didn’t. Not see him every day? Not be able to curl up against him in the night? Or hear his lower-than-low voice when he teased her during their sparring sessions? She wasn’t sure she could bear it.

On top of that…the thought of returning to Bocelli’s made her stomach churn like she’d been drinking battery acid.

The atmosphere here was everything that the Bocelli Agency wasn’t. Sure, she had to deal with obnoxious customers and drunks in the roadhouse, but they were nothing compared to advertising and photo shoot clients, all cologne and bleached-white smiles and hidden animosity.

Roadhouse staff made the few customer annoyances seem irrelevant. The waitstaff and chefs weren’t family—she wouldn’t go that far—but were more than mere co-workers. They bickered, certainly, but there was no cutthroat competition, no backstabbing. If she got swamped, Felix would notice and pick up some of her tables. If a drunk tried to harass her, either Bull or Raymond would notice.

Like when a pushy fisherman grabbed her hand. Before she could clout him over the head with her tray, Bull had bellowed, “Asshole, let’er go, or I’ll rip your dick off and shove it down your throat.” The fisherman saw Bull’s glare. With a squeak, he’d released her and fallen all over himself apologizing.

Bull had studied her for a long minute, then smiled and nodded, leaving it up to her whether to pitch the guy out.

She loved that too—that he trusted her to deal with things. As he’d warned, he dumped all the administrative problems on her. In the last week, she’d nailed down the Italian night menu, the design, and the décor. Hired more seasonal staff. Instructed and evaluated new bar and restaurant servers and busboys. Made purchase and replacement lists.

Rather than feeling stressed, she was having fun in a way she hadn’t since starting at Mama’s company. How had she let herself get trapped in a job that she didn’t enjoy?

Because of family expectations and pressure.