I Said Yes to Coffee Two Years Later
Chapter 08 - I Said Yes to Coffee Two Years Later
Two years passed.
Not in a montage.
In Tuesdays.
Work.
Preschool.
Then kindergarten.
Dental appointments.
Rent.
Homework from my evening classes after Lily went to sleep.
I completed the health-information certificate.
Moved into compliance operations at a regional medical network.
Better salary.
Better hours.
No Moretti reference.
Maria gave one.
My supervisor gave another.
Dominic stayed out.
Good.
Then his life changed too.
Professional CEO took over Moretti Hospitality.
Dominic remained shareholder and nonexecutive director.
No family trust committee.
No family office.
He still attended board meetings.
Still argued.
Probably still frightened people sometimes.
But no longer every operational decision.
Vanessa stayed in Boston.
Alessandro completed probation.
He and Dominic spoke occasionally.
Not brothers? They are cousins. Keep: cousins.
Not reconciliation.
Contact.
Emilia kept her vote and became surprisingly active in trust meetings once people stopped assuming age meant retirement.
She blocked one property sale because she thought the price was low.
Independent advisers agreed.
Dominic hated being outvoted.
Then accepted.
Practice.
Lily turned six.
She had no memory of the suspicious vial beyond a story adults had stopped retelling.
I still had Alessandro’s apology letter.
Unopened by her.
I decided it could wait until she was older if she ever wanted it.
No reason to make a child carry someone else’s conscience.
Then Maria’s seventy-ninth birthday.
Small Italian restaurant.
I walked in with Lily.
Dominic was there.
Maria had not told me.
I glared.
She smiled.
“I am old.”
“That is not immunity.”
“It helps.”
Dominic stood.
Older.
Gray at the temples.
No black suit.
Dark sweater.
He looked less like a headline.
Lily recognized him first.
“Wine man.”
The entire table laughed.
Dominic put a hand over his heart.
“I have a name.”
“I know.”
“What is it?”
She thought.
“Dominic.”
He looked absurdly pleased.
Dinner was ordinary.
Maria complained about the restaurant’s sauce.
Emilia told her she was impossible.
Alessandro did not attend.
His choice.
Vanessa obviously did not.
No forced reunion.
After dessert, Lily went to show Maria a drawing.
Dominic and I were briefly alone at the table.
He said:
“Coffee?”
I looked at him.
He added:
“You still choose the place.”
I smiled despite myself.
“Yes.”
The first coffee lasted forty minutes.
I chose a diner near work.
He arrived early.
I arrived exactly on time.
No bodyguard inside.
I asked:
“Any outside?”
“One driver.”
“Specific threat?”
“Normal corporate risk.”
“Does it involve me?”
“No.”
Good.
Then we talked.
My work.
His board role.
Lily.
Books.
He hated podcasts.
I loved that for no reason.
Then he said:
“I owe you an apology.”
I almost groaned.
“For what now?”
He smiled.
“Nothing new.”
“Good.”
Then:
“I used you as an audience for my improvement.”
That surprised me.
“When?”
“Showing you Alessandro’s letter. The trust decisions. My own restraint.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“I wanted you to see I was becoming safer.”
There.
“And?”
“That makes you responsible for certifying it.”
Exactly.
“I’m sorry.”
I accepted.
Then changed subject.
That was important.
Apologies should not become the whole relationship either.
Coffee became lunch.
Lunch became another coffee.
Then one evening he asked:
“Dinner. As a date.”
I said:
“Not yet.”
He nodded.
Three months later I asked him.
“Still interested in dinner?”
His face changed.
“Yes.”
I chose tacos.
He laughed.
“Why tacos?”
“Because if you take me somewhere with no prices, I’m leaving.”
He looked guilty.
“Was that your plan?”
“Maybe.”
“Tacos.”
Good.
Dating began.
Slowly.
No Lily introductions needed because she already knew him, but no using her as relationship glue.
At first she saw him only in group settings.
Then one afternoon she asked:
“Is Dominic your boyfriend?”
I nearly dropped a plate.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“That’s all?”
She shrugged.
“Can he fix my bike?”
I said:
“He can try.”
Dominic could not.
Maria’s nephew fixed it.
Useful humility.
Then money rules.
No tuition.
No rent.
No surprise expensive gifts.
No private school for Lily.
No trust fund unless I explicitly requested and independent counsel reviewed.
He said:
“I wasn’t planning—”
I raised an eyebrow.
He stopped.
“Right.”
Then the first conflict.
Lily needed orthodontic work.
Not emergency.
Expensive.
I complained.
Dominic found out the clinic belonged to a foundation his family supported.
He could get priority and reduced cost.
He asked:
“Do you want me to check?”
I said:
“No.”
He did not.
That mattered.
I used insurance.
Payment plan.
My choice.
Then a real safety issue.
A man connected to an old Moretti dispute sent Dominic a threatening email mentioning “the maid and her kid.”
This time he did not deploy security around me.
He showed me the threat assessment.
Asked what I wanted.
I agreed to temporary school-route coordination through police and my employer’s security partner.
Four weeks.
Then ended.
No permanent shadow.
Different.
Then one night after Lily was asleep, Dominic kissed me.
He asked first.
Good.
Nothing dramatic.
No mansion.
My kitchen.
Dishwasher running.
The world did not change.
That was why I trusted it.
Dating also taught me that Dominic could be considerate in ways that were not expensive.
He learned Lily liked blueberry pancakes and stopped trying to make them himself.
He bought a cheap mix.
Followed directions.
Burned the first batch anyway.
She laughed so hard milk came out her nose.
No chef.
No hotel breakfast.
No grand gesture.
One Saturday he asked whether he could come to her swim meet.
I said:
“Ask her.”
That was harder for him than asking me.
Lily thought for a moment.
“Okay, but don’t sit with my coach.”
Dominic looked offended.
“Why would I sit with your coach?”
“Because you ask questions.”
Fair.
He sat three rows up with me.
Cheered when everybody else did.
Did not ask why she placed fourth.
On the drive home she said:
“You were normal.”
He stared at her.
“Thank you?”
That became one of our family jokes years later.
Then six months into dating, Dominic made his first serious mistake.
My medical network was raising money for a new records-security system.
I complained about it at dinner.
Two weeks later, the Moretti Foundation offered a $300,000 grant.
No one knew we were dating.
May you like
I did.
And suddenly the old problem had returned in a generous coat.
