Redemption - Garrett Leigh Page 0,18
olive complexion was paler than usual, and dark circles smudged the skin beneath his eyes. Fighting him, though, would bring nothing but trouble. Obeying his order was the easy option, but nothing in Luis’s life had ever been easy.
He covered Paolo’s hand with his own and slowly—reluctantly—peeled his fingers away. “It’s not my concern, but the dishwasher will be tomorrow. Don’t want to spend all day cleaning up your mess.”
“Very funny—”
“What? Can’t hear you. Sorry.”
Luis stepped out of Paolo’s grasp and slipped into the kitchen, bracing himself for Paolo to follow and rip him a new one. But it didn’t happen. He made it to the dishwasher unmolested—shame—and mowed through the loads stacked up in the sink.
With that done, he braved a peek through the kitchen door. Paolo was serving at the counter. Luis took his chance and slipped out to clear a table, and the dance continued all day long until Paolo shut the cafe at two.
He came to find Luis in the kitchen, a bottle of Italian beer in each hand. He handed one to Luis. “Now it’s my day off. Come and eat.”
Luis wasn’t about to argue with that. His lonely breakfast seemed a lifetime ago. He took the proffered beer and followed Paolo out front. The vats of baked pasta still held enough for twenty people, though Luis reckoned he was hungry enough to put a serious dent in it.
Paolo passed him a plate. “Fill your boots, mate. Any leftovers go to the night shelter at the Methodist church, but they only take ten in every night, so they won’t need all this.”
“You sure?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”
Fair enough. Luis took the plate and piled it high with penne pasta baked with meat sauce and cheese. “This shit is like spag bol on steroids.”
Paolo laughed. “Don’t say that in front of anyone from my family. My nonna would give you a clip round the ear if she could reach that high.”
He filled his own plate and pointed at the table Luis had come to think of as theirs. “Sit.”
Luis sat and dug into his food. It was delicious and so different from the all-day breakfasts he’d grown used to in the last week, he cleared his plate in two minutes flat.
Paolo ate slower, sipping his beer. “Anyone would think I didn’t feed you.”
“You don’t have to, you know. You never said free food came with the job.”
“It’s not free. You work for it.”
“That’s a generous way of looking at it. I don’t reckon they get a free lunch at Tesco.”
“You don’t work at Tesco.”
Paolo was good at these conversations, at firing back statements that proved nothing except the fact that he possessed a razor-sharp tongue. Luis recognised them as armour for a man unable to accept he was doing a nice thing, and that, more than anything, made Paolo unlike anyone he’d ever known.
Luis drank his beer while Paolo finished his food. The boozy bubbles slipped down like a dream and fizzed in his belly. He drained the bottle and held it up to the light. “I’ve never had this brand before. It’s good.”
Paolo grinned a little. “I’d get you another, but I drank them all last Sunday. I’ve got some of Toni’s old plonk out the back, though. Hang on.”
“It’s okay—”
But Paolo was already on his feet and walking away. He came back with a dusty bottle and two glasses. “Don’t worry. It tastes better than it looks.”
He poured dark red wine into the glasses and slid one across the table to Luis.
Luis picked it up and swirled it around. “I’ve never drunk this before either. Is it strong? I can’t remember the last time I had a drink.”
Lies. The last drink Luis had taken had been a shot of cheap vodka in the back of a stolen car before the clusterfuck of a job that had cost him six years of his life. The car had gone up in flames minutes later, glowing at the side of the road like a beacon of his sins. He could still smell the burnt rubber of the tyres.
Maybe the wine would help.
He took a tiny sip, and then a deeper one, as the round, fruity flavour coated his tongue and seared a path down his throat. “Wow. That’s something else.”
Paolo claimed his own glass and downed half the contents in a long swallow that worked his throat enough to send Luis back for another swig. “It’s not bad. I’m not allowed to take it to Toni