Chapter Five The Priestly Brothers

CHAPTER FIVE THE PRIESTLY brOTHERS

I stood face down with my nose pressed against the counter-top, willing time to speed up. Even during the busiest hours of the day, the diner was never overrun with customers, but tonight it was unusually quiet. There was just one more hour to go until I could go home, and the minutes were dragging by. To make matters worse, the air conditioner was broken, the stifling humidity was frizzing out the ends of my hair, and the delivery man hadn’t shown up for the third day in a row, which meant we were low on some of the menu’s ingredients.

Millie hovered behind me, prodding my shoulder. She was, after all, part-female, part-question. ‘So if these random Priestly relatives just moved in then the shadow guy probably was one of the five boys?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied through a yawn. ‘Probably.’

She laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. ‘How embarrassing for you.’

I lifted my head. ‘Better embarrassed than dead.’

She grinned. ‘Oh come on, Soph, where is your sense of adventure?’

I pretended to contemplate her question. ‘I think it’s buried deep beneath my natural instinct to survive.’

‘You could have made out with a shadow!’ Her face was glowing.

‘ Or been brutally murdered by one,’ I countered.

‘Urgh, you are such a killjoy.’

‘How about this,’ I said. ‘Next time I’m in a risky situation with a complete stranger, I promise I’ll try and make out with him.’

‘Bah! Don’t make promises you won’t keep. I don’t want to get my hopes up.’

The bell above the door jingled and three girls sauntered into the diner. I recognized two of them from school. Erin Reyes and Jane Leder were all bitchiness and long legs, and could have made a full-time career out of judging people. I was surprised to find them at Gracewell’s – it was far from the expensive hangouts they seemed to enjoy. Then again, the diner did have their favourite main attraction – me. It might have been nearly a year and a half since my father’s incarceration, but it was still Erin’s favourite topic.

She caught my eye and smirked, and I tried not to flinch as she stage-whispered to the third girl, who was already studying me with rapt attention. ‘That’s her. She actually works here, in the place where it happened . Can you believe that?’

The other two giggled, and I felt my cheeks grow hot.

‘Ugh,’ said Millie, who had as much patience for routine bitchiness as I did. ‘I’ll get this one. And if they’re not careful I’ll bring them their menus with a side of my shoe up their…’ She trailed off, rounding the counter to attend to them.

I smiled graciously at the back of her head. Gracewell’s Diner mostly catered for people who worked in town or local families who had been coming here for years. But every so often, nosy vipers from school would stop in to gawk at the infamous Michael Gracewell’s restaurant, and Millie would take the hit and serve them so that I wouldn’t have to.

Absentmindedly, I started to fix the errant strings on my apron, looping them into an uneven bow.

‘Are you going to do any work today, Sophie?’

Ursula, the assistant manager, had returned from the kitchen. She was nearly as old as Mrs Bailey but was infinitely cooler because she could rock purple hair and was able to have conversations that didn’t negatively affect my will to live. She gestured towards Millie, who was handing menus to the three girls.

‘Oh, come on. There’s no one else here, and I can’t exactly wait on ghost tables,’ I protested.

Ursula’s laugh was husky, betraying her enduring smoking habit. ‘I’m just saying you seem distracted tonight.’ She pushed her circular spectacles up the bridge of her nose, until they settled, and magnified her eyes twofold. ‘Or should I say more distracted than usual.’

‘That’s because she is distracted, Ursula.’ Millie was back, and whipping off her apron. She was leaving an hour before me, and in that moment I slightly resented her for it. ‘We should tell Ursula.’

‘Yes, we should,’ Ursula echoed, shuffling sideways so she could prop herself against the wall beside me. We were exactly the same height, so she could bore her eyes right into mine very effectively with little effort.

‘But I don’t have anything to tell,’ I swore.

‘Lies!’ Millie slipped in front of the counter, hoodie in hand. She shrugged it on, smiling so broadly nearly all of her clear braces were visible at once. She zipped it up and her name tag, MILLIE THE MAGNIFICENT – I don’t know how she had snuck that one past Uncle Jack – disappeared. Then she leant forward until her hair brushed the countertop, and dropped her voice. Ursula responded like a magnet, coming closer, and training her attention on Millie.

‘Well, you probably won’t believe this,’ Millie began, gesturing subtly at me with her thumb. ‘But Sophie has developed a crush on a shadow. A real bona fide shadow-crush. Rare as a solar eclipse, but they do happen. Our Sophie is a shadow-creeper.’

Ursula pulled her eyebrows together until they almost touched. ‘What?’

‘She’s just kidding,’ I explained, throwing Millie a death stare.

‘Am I, Sophie? Am I?’ She smirked suggestively, in the way only Millie could. ‘Ursula, I’ll need you to take over that table of wonderful specimens now that I’m leaving,’ she said, gesturing towards Erin and her friends in the corner, before crossing the diner and shouting, ‘See you guys tomorrow!’

Once Millie had disappeared, Ursula turned her penetrating gaze back to me. ‘So, what’s this shadow thing all about?’

‘It’s nothing, really. There’s this new family living in the Priestly place and I think I bumped into one of them the other night, but then I ran away from him, and now Millie thinks it’s the funniest and most tragic thing she’s ever heard.’ I grabbed a cloth and started to wipe down the countertop, which was already gleaming.

Ursula narrowed her eyes as if trying to determine whether there was more to my story, but before she could chase up a line of questioning, the bell above the door jingled.

Against a backdrop of our abrupt silence, two figures swept through the door.

I tried not to gape. One tall, dark, handsome boy is difficult to ignore, but two is near impossible.

They paused inside the door, their broad shoulders brushing as they stood side by side. They began to militarily scan the diner, as though they were looking for something that could have been under any of the tables or swinging from the ceiling fans.

Without meaning to, Ursula and I both took a step forwards.

There was something effortlessly fashionable about them – their dark straight-leg jeans were tailored to break perfectly above expensive leather boots that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, and they wore designer T-shirts accented by the simple silver chains around their necks.

I studied the boy on the right, feeling something stir inside me. I knew his shape, his height. I dropped my gaze and recognized the silver buckles on his boots.

Ursula and I weren’t the only ones hopelessly distracted; fleetingly I noticed how the three girls in the corner had fallen out of their conversation and suddenly looked a lot hungrier than they had been a moment ago. I didn’t blame them. The boys were like something out of a Hollywood movie.

Without glancing towards us, they glided – yes, glided – over to a window booth and slid in, keeping their attention on their own whispered conversation.

‘Can you take this one, hon?’ Ursula sighed. ‘I don’t think I can stand next to them. It’s too depressing.’ She made her way across the diner to tend to the girls in the corner instead.

My midnight encounter had seemed like little more than a bad dream, but now that Shadow Boy was here, I realized I would have to confront the reality of the situation – he was Mount Olympus, I was Gracewell’s Diner, and I still had no idea why he knocked me over. With any luck, there was every chance he wouldn’t even recognize me.

Although their distinct appearances and obvious similarities had led me to assume they were brothers, the fact that they were speaking Italian when I approached their table confirmed it – it was that same lilting dialect that Shadow Boy had spoken to me.

‘Hi, my name is Sophie and I’ll be your server this evening,’ I rhymed off briskly, handing them each a menu.

Shadow Boy snapped out of his conversation. He turned and, up close, he was younger than I expected – still older than me, maybe, with chestnut brown hair that curled beneath his ears and dark, almond-shaped eyes flecked with gold. I was struck just then, not by his handsomeness, but by his familiarity. I couldn’t shake the sense that I had seen his face before – long ago – and though it was undeniably handsome, I had the unpleasant compulsion to look away from him. I tried to blink myself out of it. He had just thrown me off. If I had seen him before, I wouldn’t have forgotten him.

‘Sophie,’ he said quietly, meeting my gaze. ‘I think we met the other night.’

My face fell. I folded my hands in front of my body as his eyes searched mine with an intensity I was completely unused to. His brother, who seemed completely disinterested in our exchange, was studying his menu in silence.

Shadow Boy smiled. ‘I was just trying to help you up, you know.’

‘Ah,’ I said, returning what I hoped was a nonchalant expression. ‘You mean from where you put me in the first place? How kind of you.’

If he was affronted, he didn’t show it. ‘You stopped running so quickly I didn’t have time to slow down… And I did try to apologize, but, if I recall, you ran away.’

I smiled awkwardly. ‘I may have overreacted…’

‘No harm, no foul,’ he offered, holding his hands in the air. ‘But are you always so defensive?’

‘That depends – are you always so… assaulty?’

‘ Non lo so, ’ he said quietly, and across from him, his brother, who had been concentrating on his menu, released a low chuckle. I was struck by how effortlessly he moved between both languages, and slightly curious about whatever amusement was passing between them.

‘That’s a loaded question,’ Shadow Boy continued after a beat, as if sensing my annoyance. He furrowed his brows and leant across the table. ‘I am sorry about the whole thing, Sophie. I just wanted to ask you something. But then you stopped running so abruptly and…’ He trailed off, doing his best to look ashamed of himself.

‘There was a cat, and I didn’t want to trample it.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘But then you went ahead and tried to trample me, so I’m not sure it was worth it.’

‘I told you,’ he said conspiratorially, ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Do you always ask your questions so aggressively? I’m not sure you’d make an effective interrogator.’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he conceded with a small smile. ‘But I’m too impatient for that line of work anyway.’

I zeroed in on the golden flecks in his dark eyes, trying not to lose my train of thought. There was just something about them.

‘So what’s the question?’

‘Well,’ he said. ‘At first I wanted to know why you were spying on my house. And then I started to wonder why you suddenly decided not to stick around when I noticed you?’

He wasn’t smiling any more; he was studying me and I understood what he meant – he knew I had been running away and he knew I was scared of him. But now, looking at him, I couldn’t remember why I had felt that way.

‘Were you running away from me?’

I shook my head too hard, making my cheeks jiggle. ‘Nope, definitely not.’

‘Oh, really?’ he pressed, smiling broadly this time. It rearranged his face beautifully, raising his brows and softening his jaw.

‘I prefer to think of it as casual hobbling.’

He pulled back from me and, slowly, I became aware of the rest of the world again. ‘I’d call it frantic sprinting.’

‘Semantics.’

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you,’ he said. ‘I’m Nic, by the way, and this is my brother, Luca.’

Even though I was standing between the brothers, I had barely registered Luca. He had stopped studying his menu and was resting his interlocking fingers on top of it. I offered him a smile. ‘Welcome to Gracewell’s.’

‘That was boring for me,’ Luca replied. His voice was sharp with impatience, and scratchy too, as though he had a sore throat. ‘But it’s nice to know you’re planning on being somewhat professional this evening, Sophie.’

I blanched. How rude was this guy?

He gestured back and forth with his index finger, first at Nic, and then at me, like our conversation was his business too. ‘Are you ready to focus now, Nicolò?’

Nicolò . His full name suited him. It was beautiful.

Nic shifted in his seat so that he was closer to me, and the two of us were side by side, facing his brother. ‘Chill out, Luca.’

Luca’s eyebrows climbed. ‘My brother, l’ipocrita .’

Nic swatted his hand in Luca’s direction. ‘ Stai zitto! ’

‘Have you worked here long, Sophie?’ Luca cut to me again. He dragged a hand through his hair, settling the unruly black strands away from his face and behind his ears. I found myself entranced by his bright blue eyes, now that I could really see them. They were searing, and seemed to shine unnaturally from his tanned face. Was he the boy from the window, I wondered? No, he was too hard, too unyielding. It wasn’t him. I was almost sure of it.

‘Well?’ he pressed.

‘Luca,’ Nic rumbled. ‘Can you not do this—’

‘Let her answer.’

‘No, I haven’t worked here for long,’ I replied quickly, hoping it would ease whatever tension was mounting between them. Maybe they’d just had an argument before I turned up. Or maybe Luca didn’t get out much and this was his idea of socializing. ‘It’s just a stupid summer job.’

I felt guilty lying about the diner’s role in my life and my future, but suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of them thinking I was as ordinary as I was; that my life was bound to a place that hadn’t been redecorated in nearly twenty years, a place owned by an incarcerated man, a place where nothing exciting ever happened to anyone.

Nic pulled his arms from the table and folded them. He kept his narrowed gaze on Luca, like he was almost daring him to do something.

Luca appeared unaffected by the death stare. ‘Do you like it?’

I shrugged. ‘As much as anyone can, I guess.’

‘And what about your co-workers? Do you like them?’

‘ Smettila! ’ Nic hissed, his accent flipping effortlessly again.

‘Does it matter if I like them?’

‘You tell me,’ said Luca.

‘Yes, they’re nice, mostly,’ I returned evenly. ‘Why? Are you doing a police survey or something?’

For the first time since our rocky introduction, Luca smiled at me, revealing sharp teeth and pronounced cheekbones.

‘Sophie,’ Nic murmured. ‘Don’t worry about my brother. As you can see, he’s completely socially inept.’

The softness in his voice settled me, and I let myself be charmed by him, if only for a second, before leaving them with their menus.

‘Look at those fine specimens!’ whooped Ursula when I returned to the counter. ‘So these boys are the new Priestlys?’

I nodded subtly. Across the way, Nic and Luca were enthralled in another conversation. They were in their own beautiful little world again. And Ursula and I were on a planet beside that world, stalking them unashamedly.

‘Is your shadow crush the black-haired one?’ she teased.

‘No, the other one.’

Suddenly Nic turned his head a fraction, like he could hear us. I held my breath – without knowing why – and squeezed Ursula’s arm, but she didn’t notice because she was too busy trying not to drool. And then he was engrossed again. It was as though he’d needed a breather from the intensity of his discussion; now that he had taken it, he was back in. And so was Luca. Their mouths sped up and their gestures became more expressive.

‘It’s hard to look away,’ Ursula teased, undeterred by the mounting anger in their conversation. ‘And just look at those eyes. Where are they from?’

‘Heaven?’ I guessed, and we both laughed. They were so exotic, so different from anyone I had ever seen around Cedar Hill.

‘Do angels eat?’

That’s when I remembered I had completely forgotten to take their order. I slid around the counter and scurried back over. ‘What can I get you?’ I grabbed the pad from my apron and flicked it open, ripping the bottom of the sheet.

Luca looked alarmed by my interruption, like he had forgotten where they were. He opened his menu again, scanned it for five seconds and pulled back with a frown. ‘A coffee. Black. Strong.’

He gestured at Nic.

‘I’ll have the steak sandwich, rare, with fries. And a glass of milk,’ Nic said finally, before shutting his menu and shifting his gaze back to me, ‘please.’

‘Is that everything?’ I held eye contact with him, feeling my lips twitch into a shy smile.

‘ Cazzo , that is all!’ Luca hissed into the space between us.

By now, I was used to dealing with difficult customers, but Luca’s attitude was unparalleled, and I found myself losing my temper quicker than I normally would have. ‘I’m sorry, but is my presence in the place where I work offending you? Because you don’t have to stay here.’

He threw me a contemptuous stare, and I held it.

‘Just don’t spit in my coffee.’

I bit my tongue and left them again.

After I passed the order through to Kenny in the kitchen, I joined Ursula, who was cleaning up after Erin and co. We busied ourselves wiping down the remaining tables and sweeping the floor as the minutes dragged by. When I served Nic his steak, I caught sight of the beginning of a tattoo above the neckline at the back of his T-shirt, then spent the following ten minutes behind the counter figuring it was probably the top of a large, ornate cross.

Five minutes before closing time, when I was balancing the books for the night, Luca’s phone rang, and he got up and left abruptly.

Nic approached the counter timidly, like he was walking into open gunfire. That same uncomfortable flicker of recognition stirred inside me but I pushed it away. Get a grip .

‘Sorry about my brother.’ He swatted his arm at something behind him. ‘We think he was dropped on his head as a baby… several hundred times.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so inquisitive,’ I noted. It was the only non-negative thing I could think to say about Luca.

Nic jerked his head, like there was a bee buzzing in his ear. Maybe that’s how he thought of his brother. ‘I guess I’m just used to it by now. Don’t let him unnerve you.’

‘He didn’t.’

‘You don’t find Luca intimidating?’

I shook my head.

Nic’s gaze adopted a sudden fierce intensity, and I was instantly hyperaware of how loud my heartbeat was.

‘Good,’ he murmured.

‘He’s definitely weird, though,’ I added as an afterthought. ‘And unbelievably rude.’

‘We should bring him here more often so you can keep him in line.’ Nic produced a black credit card that gleamed with a level of affluence I could only dream about, and handed it to me. Suddenly every part of me was standing at attention, and I wondered if he knew it. He was probably used to having this effect on girls.

‘So when did you move in?’ I asked, trying to keep focused.

‘Last week.’ Then I couldn’t possibly have known him. My mind was playing tricks on me. Nic gestured behind him in the direction of the old house with a casualness that implied it was one of many sprawling mansions frequented by his family. Not that that surprised me; he had a certain look about him, the look of a wealthy kid who could afford European vacations and Aspen ski retreats. He had the kind of bloodline that stretched beyond somewhere as ordinary as Cedar Hill. ‘But you probably already know that, since you were spying on our house.’

I felt my cheeks reignite. ‘I was not spying on your house!’

His smile grew. ‘Sure seemed that way.’

I slid the credit card machine towards him and waited as he tapped his phone. My gaze fell on the knuckles of his right hand, which were covered in pooling purple bruises and deep red gashes.

‘What happened to your hand?’ I asked, startled by the horror in my own voice. It was unpleasant to look at, and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t flinching in pain.

Nic pulled his hand away from the machine and stared at it in surprise. ‘Oh,’ he said slowly, rotating his wrist and studying the injury.

The mechanical printing of the receipt filled the silence.

‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine.’

I got the sense I had upset him. I ripped off the receipt and gave it to him, and this time he took it with his other hand.

‘I didn’t mean to pry…’

‘No, of course not.’ Nic cleared his throat. ‘I had just forgotten about it, that’s all. I got locked out the other day and I had to punch in a boarded-up window at the back of our house to get in. The perks of moving and all that…’

‘It looks painful,’ I said, doing my best impression of Captain Obvious.

Nic shook his head a little. ‘I’ve had worse.’

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, and before I could think of a reply, he was turning from me.

‘I should probably go, Sophie.’

‘Goodbye,’ I offered.

‘Maybe I’ll see you soon?’ he called over his shoulder.

‘As long as you don’t try and kill me again.’

‘I’ll try not to, but you’re certainly more than welcome to come back and stalk my house.’ He winked, the lightness in his voice back again.

‘I wasn’t stalking it!’

‘ Buona notte , Sophie.’