He started talking in a flurry of Italian to a waiter that came over and filled our water glasses. This was a nice place. Intimate. Dim. Red and white checked tablecloths with candles on the tables. I could smell food cooking and it smelled amazing.
We were quiet. It was a little awkward. Then a tall dark-haired and good-looking guy dressed in chef whites came over and put his hand on Drake’s shoulder, “Hey, man. How are you? You okay with a coupla specials since you’re here right in the middle of prep for dinner?”
“Sounds good, man. And I’m good. Uh, Angel, this is my brother-in-law, Eddy. This place is owned by my family. Ed’s the head chef and manager.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, “I’ve had your food. It’s wonderful. Best pizza I’ve ever had.”
Eddy beamed at me, “Thank you, I try. N
