Chapter 5: The Toast

Sal's promotion dinner was on Thursday, in the back room of a steakhouse in the Financial District.

I had not answered Sergio's text, and I had not asked anyone about Gemma.

I decided to watch her instead.

Dario had texted me the address with a thumbs-up.

Come, be normal. Sal would want you there.

I went because the room was full of people I had been introduced to as the fiancee.

Sal sat at the head of the table in a new navy suit.

Dario sat on his left, Sergio on his right, and Gemma beside Sergio with her sketchbook peeking out of her bag.

She smiled at me, small and quick, and then checked Sergio's face before she let it finish.

There was one empty chair at the foot of the table, next to a man in his sixties with silver hair and a very good tie.

"Justine," Sal said, and his smile went a little crooked. "You came."

"I did."

Dario looked up, then looked relieved, and then reached for the bread.

I took the empty chair.

The man in the good tie shook my hand. "I'm Sal's managing director. You must be the fiancee."

"For now," I said.

He laughed, and I let him think it was a joke.

Dinner went on, loud and warm.

The four of them told the story of Sal's first week in college, when he had locked himself out of the dorm in a towel.

Gemma laughed until she coughed, and Dario patted her back without looking.

Nobody asked me anything, and I ate my steak.

Then the managing director tapped his glass with a fork.

"I'd like to say a few words, if Sal can stand it."

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