The Vineyards Of Calanetti
Her gaze fell to the rose. Red. For passion. But with someone like Rafe who was a bundle of passion about his restaurant, about his food, about his customers, the color choice could mean anything.
Carrying the rose, she got up from her seat and walked over to him. “How did you find me?”
“Would you believe I guessed where you were?”
“That would have to be a very lucky guess.”
He sighed. “I talked to your roommate, Louisa, this afternoon. She told me where you were staying, and I drove to Rome. Walking to your hotel, I saw you here, having coffee.”
He glanced away. “Look, can we talk?” He shoved his hands tightly into the side pockets of his coat and returned his gaze to hers. “We’ve missed you.”
“We?”
She almost cursed herself for the question. But she needed to hear him say it so she’d know she wasn’t crazy, getting feelings for a guy who found it so easy to fire her.
“I’ve missed you.” He sighed. “Two trust-fund babies faked me out the other night. They insulted my food and when they couldn’t get a rise out of me, they made it look like I was tossing one out on her ear to get a picture for Instagram.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Instagram?”
“It’s the bane of my existence.”
“But you hadn’t lost your temper?”
He shook his head and glanced away. “No. I hadn’t.” He looked back at her. “I remembered some things you’d done.” He smiled. “I learned.”
Her heart picked up at the knowledge that he’d learned from her, and the thrill that he was here, that he’d missed her. “You’re not a bad guy.”
His face twisted around a smile he clearly tried to hide. “According to Emory, I’m just an overworked guy. And interviewing for a new maître d’ isn’t helping. Especially when no one I talk to fits. It’s why I need you. You’re the first person to take over the dining room well enough that I don’t worry.”
She counted to ten, breathlessly waiting for him to expand on that. When he didn’t, she said, “And that’s all it is?”
“I know you want there to be something romantic between us. But there are things that separate us. Not just your fiancé, but my temperament. Really? Could you see yourself happy with me? Or when you look at me, do you see a man who takes what he wants and walks away? Because that’s the man I really am. I put my restaurant first. I have no time for a relationship.”
Her heart wept at what he said. But her sensible self, the lonely foster child who didn’t trust the wash of feelings that raced through her every time she got within two feet of him, understood. He was a gorgeous man, born for the limelight, looking to make a name for himself. She was a foster kid, looking for a home. Peace. Quiet. Security. They might be physically attracted, but, emotionally, they were totally wrong for each other. No matter how drawn she was to him, she knew the truth as well as he did.
“You can’t commit?”
He shook his head. “My commitment is to Mancini’s. To my career. My reputation. I want to be one of Europe’s famed chefs. Mancini’s is my stepping stone. I do not have time for what other men want. A woman on their arm. Fancy parties. Marriage. To me those are irrelevant. All I want is success. So I would hurt you. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Which makes anything between us just business?”
“Just business.”
Her job at Mancini’s had awakened feelings in Dani she’d never experienced. Self-worth. A sense of place. An unshakable belief that she belonged there. And the click of connection that made her feel she had a home. Something deep inside her needed Mancini’s. But she wouldn’t go back only to be fired again.
“And you need me?”
He rolled his eyes. “You Americans. Why must you be showered with accolades?”
Oh, he did love to be gruff.
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and pointed to her table at the bistro. “I don’t need accolades. I need acknowledgment of my place at Mancini’s...and my coffee. I’m freezing.”
He pulled his arm away from her hand and wrapped it around her shoulders. She knew he meant it only as a gesture between friends, but she felt his warmth seep through to her. Longing tugged at her heart. A fierce yearning that clung and wouldn’t let go.
“You should wear a heavier coat.”
His voice was soft, intimate, sending the feeling of rightness through her again.
“It was warm when I came here.”
“And now it is cold. So from here on I will make sure you wear a bigger coat.” He paused. His head tilted. “Maybe you need me, too?”
She did. But not in the way he thought. She wanted him to love her. Really love her. But to be the man of her dreams, he would have to be different. To be warm and loving. To want her—
And he might. Today. But he’d warned her that anything he felt for her was temporary. He couldn’t commit. He didn’t want to commit. And unless she wanted to get her heart broken, she had to really hear what he was saying. If she was going to get the opportunity to go back to the first place in her life that felt like home, Mancini’s, and the first people who genuinely felt like family, his staff, then a romance between them had to be out of the question.
“I need Mancini’s. I like it there. I like the people.”
“Ah. So we agree.”
“I guess. All I know for sure is that I don’t want to go back to New York yet.”
He laughed. They reached her table and he pulled out her chair for her. “That doesn’t speak well of your fiancé.”
Hauling in a breath, she sat, but she said nothing. Her stretching of the truth to Rafe about Paul being her fiancé sat in her stomach like a brick. Still, even though she knew she was going to reject his marriage proposal, it protected her and Rafe. Rafe wouldn’t go after another man’s woman. Not even for a fling. And he was right. If they had a fling, she would be crushed when he moved on.
One of his eyebrows rose, as he waited for her reply.
She decided they needed her stretched truth. But she couldn’t out-and-out lie. “All right. Paul is not the perfect guy.”
“I’m not trying to ruin your relationship. I simply believe you should think all of this through. You have a place here in Italy. Mancini’s needs you. I would like for you to stay in Italy and work for me permanently, and if you decide to, then maybe your fiancé should be coming here.”
She laughed. Really? Paul move to Italy because of her? He wouldn’t even drive to the airport for her.
Still, she didn’t want Paul in the discussion of her returning to Mancini’s. She’d already decided to refuse his proposal. If she stayed in Italy, it had to be for her reasons.
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I have a few weeks before I have to make any decisions.”
“Two weeks and two days.”
“Yes.”
He caught her hands. Kissed the knuckles. “So stay. Stay with me, Daniella. Be the face of Mancini’s.”
Her heart kicked against her ribs. The way he said “Stay with me, Daniella” froze her lungs, heated her blood. She glanced at the red rose sitting on the table, reminded herself it didn’t mean anything but a way to break the ice when he found her. He wasn’t asking her to stay for any reason other than her abilities in his restaurant. And she shouldn’t want to stay for any reason other than the job. If she could prove herself in the next two weeks, she wouldn’t be boarding a plane depressed. She wouldn’t be boarding a plane at all. She’d be helping to run a thriving business. Her entire life would change.
She pulled her hands away. “I can’t accept Louisa’s hospitality forever. I need to be able to support myself. Hostessing doesn’t pay much.”
He growled.
She laughed. He was so strong and so handsome and so perfect that when he let his guard down and was himself, his real self, with her, everything inside her filled with crazy joy. And maybe if she just focused on making him her friend, a friend she could keep forever, working for him could be fun.
“I can’t pay a hostess an exorbitant salary.”
“So give me a title to justify the money.”
He sighed. “A title?”
“Sure, something like general manager should warrant a raise big enough that I can afford my own place.”
His eyes widened. “General manager?”
“Come on, Rafe. Let’s get to the bottom line here. If things work out when we return to Mancini’s, I’m going to be taking on a huge chunk of your work. I’m also going to be relocating to another country. You’ll need to make it worth my while.”
He shook his head. “Dear God, you are bossy.”
“But I’m right.”
He sighed. “Fine. But if you’re getting that title, you will earn it.”
She inclined her head. “Seems fair.”
“You’ll learn to order supplies, check deliveries, do the job of managing things Emory and I don’t have time for.”
“Makes perfect sense.”
He sighed. His eyes narrowed. “Anything else?”
She laughed. “One more thing.” Her laughter became a silly giggle when he scowled at her. “A ride back to Louisa’s.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes. I will drive you back to Louisa’s. If you wish, I will even help you find an apartment.”
Leaving the rose, she stood and pushed away from the table. “You keep getting ahead of things. We have two weeks for me to figure out if staying at Mancini’s is right for me.” She turned to head back to the hotel to check out, but spun to face him again. “Were I you, I’d be on my best behavior.”
* * *
The next morning, she called Paul. If staying in Italy was the rest of her life, the real rest of her life, she had to make things right.
“Do you know what time it is?”
She could hear the sleep in his voice and winced. “Yes. Sorry. But I wanted to catch you before work.”
“That’s fine.”
She squeezed her eyes shut as she gathered her courage. It seemed so wrong to break up with someone over the phone and, yet, they’d barely spoken to each other in six months. This was the right thing to do.
“Look, Paul, I’m sorry to tell you this over the phone, but I can’t accept your marriage proposal.”
“What?”
She could almost picture him sitting up in bed, her bad news bringing him fully awake.
“I’m actually thinking of not coming back to New York at all, but staying in Italy.”
“What? What about your job?”
“I have a new job.”
“Where?”
“At a restaurant.”
“So you’re leaving teaching to be a waitress?”
“A hostess.”
“Oh, there’s a real step up.”
“Actually, I’m general manager,” she said, glad she’d talked Rafe into the title. She couldn’t blame Paul for being confused or angry, and knew he deserved an honest explanation.
“And I love Italy. I feel like I belong here.” She sucked in a breath. “We’ve barely talked in six months. I’m going to make a wild guess that you haven’t even missed me. I think we were only together because it was convenient.”
Another man’s silence might have been interpreted as misery. Knowing Paul the way she did, she recognized it as more or less a confirmation that she was right.
“I’m sorry not to accept your proposal, but I’m very happy.”
After a second, he said, “Okay, then. I’m glad.”
The breath blew back into her lungs. “Really?”
“Yeah. I did think we’d make a good married couple, but I knew when you didn’t say yes immediately that you might have second thoughts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. This is just the way life works sometimes.”
And that was her pragmatic Paul. His lack of emotion might have made her feel secure at one time, but now she knew she needed more.
They talked another minute and Dani disconnected the call, feeling as if a weight had been taken from her shoulders, only to have it quickly replaced by another one. She’d had to be fair to Paul, but now the only defense she’d have against Rafe’s charms would be her own discipline and common sense.
She hoped that was enough.
CHAPTER NINE
HER RETURN TO the restaurant was as joyous as a celebration. Emory grinned. The waitresses fawned over her. The busboys grew red faced. The chefs breathed a sigh of relief.
Annoyance worked its way through Rafe. Not that he didn’t want his staff to adore her. He did. That was why she was back. The problem was he couldn’t stop reliving their meeting in Rome. He’d said everything that he’d wanted to say. That he’d missed her. That he wanted her back. But he’d kept it all in the context of business. He’d missed her help. He wanted her to become the face of Mancini’s. He didn’t want anything romantic with her because he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d been all business. And it had worked.
But with her return playing out around him, his heart rumbled at the injustice. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t want her back for himself, that he didn’t want something romantic between them. His fierce protection of Mancini’s wouldn’t let him get involved with an employee he needed. But here at the restaurant, with her looking so pretty, helping make his dream a reality, he just wanted to kiss her.
He reminded himself that she had a fiancé—
A fiancé she admitted was not the perfect guy.
Bah! That fiancé was supposed to be the key weapon in his arsenal of ways to keep himself away from her. Her admission that he wasn’t perfect, even the fact that she was considering staying in Italy, called her whole engagement into question. And caused all his feelings for her to surface and swell.
She swept into the kitchen. Wearing a blue dress that highlighted her blue eyes and accented a figure so lush she was absolutely edible, she glided over to Emory. He took her hands and kissed the back of both.
“You look better than anything on the menu.”
Rafe sucked in a breath, controlling the unwanted ripple of longing.
Dani unexpectedly stepped toward Emory, put her arms around him and hugged him. Emory closed his eyes as if to savor it, a smile lifted his lips.
Rafe’s yearning intensified, but with it came a tidal wave of jealousy. He lowered his knife on an unsuspecting stalk of celery, chopping it with unnecessary force.
Dani faced him. “Why don’t you give me the key and I’ll open the front door for the lunch crowd?”
He rolled his gaze toward her slowly. Even as the businessman inside him cheered her return, the jealous man who was filled with need wondered if he wasn’t trying to drive himself insane.
“Emory, give her your key.”
The sous-chef instantly fished his key ring out of his pocket and dislodged the key for Mancini’s. “Gladly.”
“Don’t be so joyful.” He glanced at Dani again, at the soft yellow hair framing her face, her happy blue eyes. “Have a key made for yourself this afternoon and return Emory’s to him.”
She smiled. “Will do, boss.”
She walked out of the kitchen, her high heels clicking on the tile floor, her bottom swaying with every step, all eyes of the kitchen staff watching her go.
Jealousy spewed through him. “Back to work!” he yelped, and everybody scrambled.
Emory sauntered over. “Something is wrong?”
He chopped the celery. “Everything is fine.”
The sous-chef glanced at the door Dani had just walked through. “She’s very happy to be back.”
Rafe refused to answer that.
Emory turned to him again. “So did you talk her into staying? Is her fiancé joining her here? What’s going on?”
Rafe chopped the celery. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if she’s staying?”
“She said her final two weeks here would be something like a trial run for her.”
“Then we must be incredibly good to her.”
“I gave her a raise, a title. If she doesn’t like those, then we should be glad if she goes home to her fiancé.” He all but spat the word fiancé, getting angrier by the moment, as he gave Dani everything she wanted but was denied everything he wanted.
Emory said, “I still say something is up with this fiancé of hers. If she didn’t tell him she’s considering staying in Italy, then there’s trouble in paradise. If she did, and he isn’t on the next flight to Florence, then I question his sanity.”
Rafe laughed.
“Seriously, Rafe, has she talked to you about him? I just don’t get an engaged vibe from her.”
“Are you saying she’s lying?”
Emory inclined his head. “I don’t think she’s lying as much as I think her fiancé might be a real dud, and her engagement as flat as a crepe.”
Rafe said only, “Humph,” but once again her statement that her fiancé wasn’t the perfect guy rolled through his head.
“I only mention this because I think it works in our favor.”
“How so?”
“If she’s not really in love, if her fiancé doesn’t really love her, we have the power of Italy on our side.”
“To?”
“To coax her to stay. To seduce her away from a guy who doesn’t deserve her.”
Rafe chopped the celery. His dreams were filled with scenarios where he seduced Daniella. Except he had a feeling that kind of seducing wasn’t what Emory meant.
“Somehow or another we have to be so good to her that she realizes what she has in New York isn’t what she wants.”
Sulking, Rafe scraped the celery into a bowl. Why did he have to be the one doing all the wooing? He was a catch. He wanted her eyelashes to flutter when he walked by and her eyes to warm with interest. He had some pride, too.
Emory shook his head. “Okay. Be stubborn. But you’ll be sorry if some pasty office dweller from New York descends on us and scoops her back to America.”
Rafe all but growled in frustration at the picture that formed in his head. Especially since she had said her fiancé wasn’t perfect. Shouldn’t a woman in love swoon for the man she’s promised to marry?
Yes. Yes. She should.
Yet, here she was, considering staying. Not bringing her fiancé into the equation.
And he suddenly saw what Emory was saying.
She wasn’t happy with her fiancé. She was searching for something. She’d gone to Rome looking for her foster mother’s relatives—family! What Dani had been looking for in Rome was family! That was why she was getting so close to the staff at Mancini’s.
Still, something was missing.
He tapped his index fingers against his lips, thinking, and when the answer came to him he smiled and turned to Emory. “I will need time off tomorrow.”
Emory’s face fell. “You’re taking another day?”
“Just lunch. And Daniella will be out for lunch, too.”
Emory caught his gaze. “Really?”
“Yes. Don’t go thinking this is about funny business. I’m taking her apartment hunting. Dani is a woman looking for a family. She thinks she’s found it with us. But Mancini’s isn’t a home. It’s a place of business. Once I help her get a house, somewhere to put down roots, it will all fall into place for her.”
Rafe’s first free minute, he called the real estate agent who’d sold him his penthouse. She told him she had some suitable listings in Monte Calanetti and he set up three appointments for Daniella.
When the lunch crowd cleared, he walked into the empty, quiet dining room.
Dani smiled as he approached. “You’re not going to yell at me for not going home and costing you two hours’ wages are you?”
“You are management now. I expect you here every hour the restaurant is open.”
“Except my days off.”
He groaned. “Except your days off. If you feel comfortable not being here two days every week, I am fine with it. But if something goes wrong, you will answer for it.”
She laughed. “Whatever. I’ve been coaching Allegra. She’ll be much better from here on out. No more catastrophes while I’m gone.”
“Great. I’ve lined up three appointments for us tomorrow.”
She turned from the podium. “With vendors?”
“With my friend who is a real estate agent.”
“I told you we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”
“Our market is tight. You must be on top of things to get a good place.”
“I haven’t—”
He interrupted her. “You haven’t decided you’re staying. I get that. But if you choose to stay, I don’t want you panicking. Getting ahead of a problem is how a smart businessperson staves off disaster.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Good. Tomorrow morning, Emory will take over lunch prep while you and I apartment hunt. We can be back for dinner.”
* * *
Sun poured in through the huge window of the kitchen of the first unit Maria Salvetti showed Rafe and Dani the next morning. Unfortunately, cold air flowed in through the cracks between the window and the wall.
Dani eased her eyes away from the unwanted ventilation and watched as Rafe walked across a worn hardwood floor, his motorcycle boots clicking along, his jeans outlining an absolutely perfect behind and his black leather jacket, collar flipped up, giving him the look of a dangerous rebel.
For the second time that morning, she told herself she was grateful he’d been honest with her about his inability to commit. She didn’t know a woman who wouldn’t fall victim to his steel-gray eyes and his muscled body. She had to be strong. And her decision to stay at Mancini’s had to be made for all the right reasons.
She faced Maria. “I’d have to fix this myself?”
“Sì. It is for sale. It is not a rental.”
She turned to Rafe. “I wouldn’t have time to work twelve-hour days and be my own general contractor.”
“You could hire someone.”
She winced as she ran her hand along the crack between the wall and window. “Oh, yeah? Just how big is my raise going to be?”
“Big enough.”
She shook her head. “I still don’t like it.”
She also didn’t like the second condo. She did have warm, fuzzy feelings for the old farmhouse a few miles away from the village, but that needed more work than the first condo she’d seen.
Maria’s smile dipped a notch every time Dani rejected a prospective home. She’d tried to explain that she wasn’t even sure she was staying in Italy, but Maria kept plugging along.
After Dani rejected the final option, Maria shook Rafe’s hand, then Dani’s and said, “I’ll check our listings again and get back to you.”
She slid into her car and Dani sighed, glad to be rid of her. Not that Maria wasn’t nice, but with her decision about staying in Italy up in the air, looking for somewhere to live seemed premature. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize quite yet.” He pulled his cell phone from his jacket and dialed a number. “Carlo, this is Rafe. Could you have a key for the empty condo at the front desk? Grazie.” He slipped his phone into his jacket again.
She frowned at him. “You have a place to show me?”
He headed for his SUV, motioning for her to follow him. “Actually, I thought Maria would have taken you to his apartment first. It’s a newly renovated condo in my building.”
She stopped walking. “Your building?” She might be smart enough to realize she and Rafe were a bad bet, but all along she’d acknowledged that their spending too much time together was tempting fate. Now he wanted them to live in the same building?
“After Emory, you are my most valued employee. A huge part of Mancini’s success. We need to be available for each other. Plus, there would be two floors between us. It’s not like we’d even run into each other.”
She still hesitated. “Your building’s that big?”
“No. I value my privacy that much.” He sighed. “Seriously. Just come with me to see the place and you will understand.”
Dani glanced around as she entered the renovated old building, Rafe behind her. Black-and-white block tiles were accented by red sofas and chairs in a lounge area of the lobby. The desk for the doorman sat discreetly in a corner.
Leaning over her shoulder, Rafe said, “My home is the penthouse.”
His warm breath tickled her ear and desire poured through her. She almost turned and yelled at him for flirting with her. Instead, she squelched the feeling. He probably wasn’t flirting with her. This was just who he was. Gorgeous. Sinfully sexy. And naturally flirtatious. If she really intended to stay in Italy and work for him, she had to get accustomed to him. As she’d realized after she’d spoken to Paul, she would need discipline and common sense to keep her sanity.