Old Friend

As I meticulously folded each garment, trying to restore some semblance of order to the chaotic pile of clothes after the morning rush, Jasper strode into the thrift store, his uniform crisp and neat, a stark contrast to the disarray surrounding me.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice soft yet filled with warmth as he leaned against the counter nearby. "How's it going?"

I glanced up from my work, meeting his gaze with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. "Busy," I replied, my tone reflecting the weariness of the day's events. "But I'm managing."

Jasper nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic as he surveyed the scattered garments strewn haphazardly across the room. "Looks like you could use some help," he remarked, his eyes flicking back to me with a hint of concern.

I shrugged nonchalantly, masking the gratitude that welled within me at his offer. "It's fine, I've got it under control," I insisted, though the truth was I welcomed his assistance more than I cared to admit.

As Lollipop, my ever-enthusiastic boss, excused himself to attend to an underground customer on the phone, Jasper and I were left alone in the quiet of the room, surrounded by the soft rustle of fabric and the gentle hum of conversation drifting in from the shop floor.

I stole a glance at Jasper as he watched while I meticulously folded a stack of shirts, his brow furrowed in concentration, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"So," Jasper began, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us. "Any plans for after work?"

I paused, considering his question for a moment before replying, "Not really. Just going to keep laying low like I did all week."

Jasper nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Well, if you're up for it, I was thinking we could grab dinner together," he suggested, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. "Of course, Travis will plan it so nothing goes wrong."

The invitation caught me off guard, and for a moment, I found myself at a loss for words. Dinner with Jasper was not something I had anticipated, yet the prospect of spending more time with him filled me with a sense of excitement I couldn't quite explain.

"Sure, that sounds nice," I replied, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

Jasper returned my smile, his eyes bright with genuine pleasure. "Great. It's a date then," he declared, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

I folded each piece of clothing, trying to focus on the task at hand while Jasper hovered nearby, his presence palpable even without him saying a word. I couldn't help but feel a mix of irritation and gratitude towards him. Irritation because his constant flirting grated on my nerves, yet gratitude for him checking up on me frequently.

Despite my feelings, I knew it was important to maintain a civil demeanor. After all, Jasper was technically considered a customer. It wouldn't do any good to lash out at him, especially when he was trying to be considerate.

Part of me wondered what was going through his mind, but another part was hesitant to delve into conversation, fearing that it might veer into uncomfortable territory—like the kiss we shared.

Jasper however had been relentless in his attempts to broach the subject, his playful banter and suggestive remarks serving as constant reminders of that fleeting moment of intimacy. Yet, I remained steadfast in my refusal to acknowledge it, afraid to confront the complex emotions it stirred within me.

I couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry that simmered between us, nor could I ignore the undeniable attraction I felt towards Jasper. But did that warrant diving headfirst into something I wasn't entirely sure about? Did I dare to explore the possibility of a deeper connection, knowing full well the risks involved?

The chimes at the door went off and, like the retail slave I felt like, I spewed my greeting as I was trained to do. The middle-aged man with glasses stood just inside the threshold of the thrift store, his gaze fixed intently on me as if he were studying a particularly intriguing puzzle. His round face bore the telltale signs of age, with faint lines etched around his eyes and mouth, hinting at a lifetime of experiences both joyful and sorrowful. Behind the thick lenses of his spectacles, his eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, seeming to penetrate the very depths of my soul with their piercing scrutiny.

Was he merely a curious shopper, perusing the aisles in search of hidden treasures? Or was there something more sinister lurking beneath the surface, something that warranted closer scrutiny and vigilance?

The middle-aged man approached me with deliberate steps, his eyes never leaving my face. His scrutinizing gaze felt like a physical weight, causing a shiver of discomfort to run down my spine.

Jasper, sensing my unease, moved closer, his stance protective. "You know him?" he asked, his voice laced with caution.

I shook my head slowly, my eyes never leaving the middle-aged man. "I don't think I know him," I replied, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"Alex? Alexander Todd? Is that you?" The man adjusted his glasses, his gaze fixed on me with a mix of curiosity and recognition.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to place him. "Who are you?" I asked warily, not quite trusting the familiarity in his voice.

"It's me, the caretaker's son. Mario Ricci," he replied, his expression softening with a hint of nostalgia. "Do you remember me? I taught you how to ride a bike in the manor."

Recognition dawned on me, and I couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise. Memories of a younger Mario, his face animated with enthusiasm as he patiently guided me through the process of learning to ride a bicycle, flooded my mind. He was the older kid who had taken me under his wing, teaching me everything he knew from his days in the Boy Scouts since he couldn't teach me anything about safaris like I originally asked. If it weren't for my time in prison, we might never have lost touch.

"Ah! The Boy Scout!" I exclaimed without thinking, a grin spreading across my face as I remembered our adventures together. "You got fat."

"I've had three kids," Mario said, his voice tinged with pride.

"Did you have them recently?" I couldn't help but notice his protruding belly, my concern evident in my tone.

Mario chuckled, shaking his head. "No, they're not exactly babies anymore," he replied, a fond smile playing on his lips. "They're almost all grown up now, just like you."

Jasper cleared his throat, clearly expecting an introduction. "This is Mario, he watched me grow up," I explained, a sense of nostalgia washing over me as I remembered the days of my childhood.

Jasper extended his hand, a friendly smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Mario. I'm Jasper," he said warmly.

Mario returned the gesture, his expression friendly and welcoming. "Pleasure to meet you, Jasper," he replied, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Any friend of Alex's is a friend of mine."

"I talked to your parents after you stopped communicating and they told me you died," Mario said. As Mario's words sank in, I felt a surge of frustration and anger rise within me.

"Everybody thinks that and I'd like to keep it that way," I told him.

"Who's this really?" Mario gestured to Jasper who was watching our exchange with a weird look on his face. "You know the police can be very corrupted in this town and I've always felt you're easy to bully. Are you ok?"

"This is Jasper," I replied, gesturing towards my companion. "And I'm fine. I've learned to stand up for myself."

Jasper nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "He's tougher than he looks," he added, shooting me a supportive glance.

Mario regarded us both with a thoughtful expression, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he spoke again. "Well, I'm glad to see you're doing well, Alex," he said sincerely. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Despite the difficult circumstances we both endured, Mario had always been there for me, offering guidance and support when I needed it most. He understood the complexities of my family dynamics and the struggles I faced, perhaps even more than I realized at the time.

Mario suddenly admonished Jasper, "You shouldn't stare at people like that, it's rude."

Jasper retorted, "I can stare wherever I please," and stuck out his tongue childishly.

Mario's face reddened at Jasper's response. "You have the audacity-"

Jasper interrupted angrily, "You're not my dad and you never will be!"

I stepped in, trying to defuse the tension. "Mario, he's my friend and he's a bit rebellious, but he's a good guy. He's saved my ass a few times already."

Mario gave Jasper a skeptical look before reluctantly conceding, "Hmph. I guess it's fine then."

"Are you still in touch with my family?" I prodded further, my gaze steady on Mario's face. Annoyingly strait-laced, he was always one to follow the rules and do the right thing, even if it meant bending the truth a little. But I couldn't afford any slip-ups or unwelcome interventions, especially when it came to my family. Mario's loyalty to them was unwavering last I remembered, and while I appreciated his concern, I couldn't risk him inadvertently disclosing my whereabouts or activities to them.

"Well no. They fired my dad a few years ago so I saw no reason to keep in contact with his former employers, especially after hearing you died." Mario said.

"Well just keep acting like I'm dead," I demanded of him. "It'd be a huge favor."

"Sure, can I ask you some things though?" Mario said.

"If I can answer." I glanced at Jasper, silently willing him to keep his mouth shut. He seemed to sense my urgency and simply nodded in response to Mario's request. "Shoot," I said, turning my attention back to Mario.

"I heard some rumors about you being involved in some shady business. Is that true?" Mario asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I hesitated, unsure of how much I should reveal. "Depends on what you mean by 'shady' business.'"

Mario raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with my evasive answer. "I mean, are you mixed up with dangerous people or illegal activities?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Let's just say I've had some... encounters with unsavory characters. But it's nothing I ever did."

Mario's expression softened, but his concern was still evident. "I hope you know what you're doing, Alex. Getting mixed up with the wrong crowd can lead to trouble."

I nodded, acknowledging his warning. "I appreciate your concern, Mario. But I can handle it myself."

Jasper shifted uncomfortably beside me, clearly itching to interject. I shot him a warning glance, silently urging him to stay quiet. This was a conversation I needed to handle on my own.

"Are you still cooking?" A spark of realization ignited within me as Mario mentioned Emily's restaurant and the absence of my mother's signature dishes on the menu. It was like a puzzle piece finally fitting into place, revealing the picture of my next move.

"I am," I replied to Mario's question, trying to keep my excitement in check as I felt that I've found my new face card. "Have you ever thought about opening a restaurant since you were my mom's apprentice for so long?"

"That's a tempting offer, Alex," Mario said, his brow furrowing in thought knowing that I was proposing business. "But it's a big commitment, especially with a growing family."

I leaned forward, my excitement bubbling over. "Think about it, Mario. We could create something amazing together. Yours and my culinary skills combined with my mother's recipes? It's a winning combination."

Mario glanced at me, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "I don't know, Alex. It's a lot to consider."

"But just imagine the possibilities," I pressed on, my enthusiasm unwavering. "We could build a restaurant that honors my grandmother's legacy and showcases your talent. It could be a place where families come together to enjoy delicious meals and create lasting memories. And with your expertise, Mario, we could make it a success. You've got the skills and the passion for cooking. This could be your chance to shine."

"It's a lot."

"You're right, Mario," I said, my tone earnest. "It's a big decision, and I understand your concerns. But think about what we could achieve together. With your culinary expertise and my determination, we could create something truly special."

Mario nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "I suppose it's worth considering. But I'll need some time to think it over and discuss it with my family." Mario hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he weighed the pros and cons. I held my breath, hoping he would look past the manipulation and see the potential in my proposal and join me on this culinary adventure.

"Of course," I replied, masking my excitement with a calm demeanor. "Take all the time you need. Just know that I believe in this idea, and I truly believe that together, we can make it a reality."

I felt bad for basically forcing him to make a big decision like this, but this was the opportunity I had been waiting for after laying low for two weeks and making no progress at all. I was determined to seize it with both hands.

"How about you tell me where you've been for the last five years? Why did you disappear?" Mario bargained.

"I was framed and sent to prison." I said thinking a blunt explanation is the best thing for now. He should be able to put together what my family did to me just from that anyways.

Mario's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Prison? But why?"

I sighed, knowing this was a conversation I couldn't avoid forever. "It's a long story," I began, "but it boils down to a feud between my family members – my brother, sister, and me."

Understanding flickered in Mario's eyes. "Ah, I see. Todd family drama can get messy."

"You have no idea," I muttered, memories of bitter arguments and betrayals flooding back.

Mario nodded sympathetically. "I know more than most about rich family struggles. Growing up in the caretaker's cottage, I saw my fair share of drama between the estate owners."

"That's why I need your help," I said earnestly. "I want to start fresh, away from my toxic family dynamics while they still think I'm dead. Opening this restaurant could be my chance to do that."

Mario studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. "Alright, Alex. I'm in. I guess that means I can tell you that I wrote down all of your mom's recipes. When I got strapped for cash, I was going to sell it as a book but now I'm glad I kept it." Mario said.

"That's amazing!" I exclaimed, feeling a surge of excitement. "Having those recipes will be a game-changer for our restaurant."

Mario nodded, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "I thought it might come in handy someday. Looks like that day has arrived."

As I mulled over the possibilities, ideas for dishes flooded my mind. With Mario having my mother's recipes as a foundation, I could experiment with different ingredients, flavors, and techniques to create a diverse and enticing menu. The prospect of showcasing my culinary skills and introducing unique, mouthwatering dishes to the restaurant filled me with excitement.