Читать книгу Her Mistletoe Magic - Kristine Rolofson, April Arrington - Страница 11

“EVERYTHING GOOD HAPPENS in the kitchen,” his grandmother used to say. She was a large woman, almost as wide as she was tall. Nico had adored her. And now, with the beautiful Grace Clarke immobilized in his very own kitchen, Adalina di Prioli’s words had never been more true.

“Someday I will have to tell you about my grandmother.” Nico replaced the ice pack with a colder one. The original was sufficient to help with the swelling, but he liked to keep the interns busy and, besides, he wanted to pamper this lovely woman in red.

He’d noticed that no one else seemed to. After a few discreet inquiries, he’d discovered she had no family in town. She had been in a relationship with some guy who moved away, but apparently that had been over for a long time. She seemed to spend most of her time at the lodge; she didn’t party in town or spend her days off on the ski slopes. She drank red wine if she drank anything other than Diet Coke and she emceed the animal shelter’s annual dog fashion show.

“Was she a cook, too?” Grace asked.

“She certainly was.”

“And she taught you everything she knew?”

“Yes.” Nico had perfected Mama Lina’s meatball recipe by the time he was eight, her lasagna at nine, and he began inventing different kinds of ravioli fillings by the time he was ten. “Her lasagna and her meatballs are on the menu. Have you tried them?”

“The lasagna. It was delicious.” He watched her try to wiggle her toes and wince. “We were here for Patsy’s birthday in October. You made tiramisu, and we had a cake.”

“There was a lot of wine poured that night.” He remembered Grace’s short black dress. She’d worn pumpkin earrings that dangled to her shoulders and threatened to tangle in her blond curls. He’d asked her to go out with him—dinner and a movie—and she’d very politely refused. “Was that the first time I asked you out?”

“I don’t remember.”

“No.” He pretended to think about it. “I believe I invited you for a drink the day I was hired. I should apologize for that.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I embarrassed you, I think. And gave you the wrong impression. I was ecstatic that day,” he admitted. “It took two months to talk the owners into hiring me.” At her incredulous expression, he added, “They didn’t want to risk hiring someone who wasn’t going to make a real commitment.”

“I can certainly understand that,” she huffed. “But I would have expected them to jump at the chance to have you.”

“Not exactly,” Nico drawled.

“We heard you cost a fortune.” She smiled. “We thought you’d bring your movie-star girlfriends and illegitimate children with you.”

Well, that was irritating. “Do you always believe everything you read at the grocery store? There was no pregnancy. I never even had a date with Scarlet, and the woman who was on the cover of that stupid magazine? She’s a friend of mine who happens to be gay.”

“Lake Placid must seem very tame compared to LA.”

“If you knew my family, and there are a lot of them, you wouldn’t say that.” He thought of his mother’s dismay over that particular magazine headline. Theresa Vitelli had not been pleased. And his sisters had been horrified. There had been so many texts and voice mails the day the magazine hit newsstands that Nico had ended up tossing his phone to the floor and stomping on it.

Not one of his finer moments. Nico took a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have bothered you that evening,” he continued. “But you were walking by the bar just as I finished signing the contracts and you looked friendly. You had a clipboard, which seemed charmingly old-fashioned, and I saw you comforting a young girl, a Girl Scout, I think.” He didn’t tell her the weepy Girl Scout had been his niece. “You seemed nice. And I just wanted to celebrate.” He didn’t mention that she’d looked like a curvy golden goddess, and he was so nervous about talking to her that his tongue had dried up in his mouth.

“I don’t have drinks with men I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry if I was rude. The Girl Scouts had organized a dinner for their parents in Wildwood and I was really busy.”

“You were perfectly polite, but you broke my heart.” No lie. He hadn’t been that disappointed since Sharon Winn turned down his invitation to the junior prom.

“I’m sure it healed itself after a few minutes.”

Nico chuckled. “You’re right. The bartender bought me a scotch and welcomed me back to Mirror Lake. We played basketball together in high school.”

He lifted the makeshift ice pack and studied her swollen foot. It didn’t look good, but he didn’t want to worry her. “I think it’s time you got that ankle checked out.”

“I don’t—”

“Let’s get you back to your office and see if there’s a doctor in the house.” He grinned. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“You’re sure you can leave your ravioli? And your wine?”

“They’ll keep,” he said. “We can always have supper later on, if you’re up to it.”

“There’s an eightieth birthday party at seven and I have to make sure that the entertainment arrives. It’s a surprise.”

“In the ballroom, yes. It’s a seven-course dinner for fifty-one people. What’s the entertainment?” Nico handed the ice to an intern, preparing to carry Grace from the kitchen. He knew she would protest unless he kept her talking. She was trying to wiggle her toes again, but pain flickered across her face as she stretched out her leg.

“A polka band. The guest of honor loves to polka, so his children organized a little dance. We’re having the party in the ballroom because, according to the kids, the polka takes up a lot of room and their father can be quite exuberant when he dances.”

“Anything else?”

“A fund-raiser in the bar, but I don’t have to do anything for that. The tour group is all set, I think. You’re offering hot buttered rum and dessert after the sleigh ride?”

“Absolutely. They’ll be available in the lobby when the guests come staggering in, frozen from the cold and thrilled with the moonlight.” He bent over and lifted her into his arms. She let out a little squeak of protest, but her arms curved naturally around his neck as he headed toward the door.

“Michael!” His second in command looked up from the pasta machine.

“Yes, Chef?”

“You’re in charge.”

Michael winked at him and gave him a thumbs-up. “Absolutely, Chef. You take all the time you need.”

Nico stifled a smile. He had no qualms about leaving the kitchen to the staff. He’d trained them well these past four months, had hired and fired until he was satisfied that he had the best team possible. He handed her the ice pack to take with her. She was going to need it in the next few hours because that foot sure as hell wasn’t going to get better anytime soon.

“I’ve never done the polka,” he said. “Have you?”

“No.” She sighed. “I was looking forward to it, too, if I got the chance. This is so embarrassing.”

The handful of diners looked up curiously as Nico made his way through the dining room with Grace in his arms.

“You’re enjoying this,” she said, her hair tickling his chin.

“I am not,” he said, chuckling. “I hate having a beautiful woman in my arms. I would rather be rolling out pasta dough and scolding the interns. I would rather be scrubbing saucepans and cleaning ovens.”

“You’re too important to wash pans yourself, and you certainly don’t clean the ovens. Hi, Mr. Stanford. Did you ski today?”

“Sure did, Gracie,” the gray-haired gentleman replied. He had the remnants of a chocolate cake and half a cup of coffee in front of him. “What happened to you?”

“I twisted my ankle a little.”

“I hope you’re being well taken care of,” he said, giving Nico a warning look.

“I’m going to get her to a doctor,” Nico assured him. “Right now.”

“Good.” He smiled at Grace. “I’ll check with Noelle later and find out how you’re doing.”

Nico managed to get out of the restaurant, down the stairs and to the front desk with only about nine more people asking Grace what happened. Three young women in ski gear had giggled, obviously thrilled to see such a romantic sight, two men had eyed him suspiciously and several children asked Grace if she was being kidnapped.

Patsy met him at the bottom of the stairs.

“I just heard,” she said, peering at Grace’s foot. “It doesn’t look good, sweetie, but I love the red nail polish.”

“I had it done yesterday,” she said. “You can put me down, Nico. Really. You can.”

“All right.” He headed toward the sofa that fronted the fireplace. “Is this okay?”

“My office—”

“Doesn’t have a couch,” Nico said.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, but it’s starting to hurt a little bit more,” she told the hovering Patsy. “Nico has kept ice on it and that really helped.”

“What happened? Brian said you slipped and needed a doctor. I’ve called the two that I know are here, but they’re either still on the mountain or in town. I’ll take you over to the clinic. I called and they don’t close until seven.”

“I’ll take her,” Nico said, reluctantly settling his dream woman on the couch. She’d felt good in his arms, all curves and soft skin, her yellow curls tickling his face. She smelled of vanilla. Hand lotion, maybe? Or perhaps she used the homemade soap from the fancy bath shop in town.

“I think I just need to rest it a bit,” Grace said. “There’s no reason to make a big deal out of this.”

Patsy exchanged a look with Nico.

“One word, Grace,” he said. “X-ray.” He turned back to Patsy. “If you’d get her coat and purse and whatever else she’ll need, I’ll take her over to the clinic.” He hated the fact that she had hurt herself, hated that she was in pain. And since she’d hurt herself in his kitchen, he felt responsible. Getting to spend time with her was the silver lining on his guilt-filled cloud.

Grace protested again. “I just need some Tylenol and the ice pack. I’ll go home and take care of it myself.”

But Patsy wasn’t buying it. “And just how are you going to get up the stairs?”

Nico ignored the crowd that had gathered around the sofa. Children held cookies, parents held coats and the most recent guests checking in stood next to their luggage and stared. He tucked another velvet pillow behind Grace’s back. “Stairs?”

“She lives in a second-floor condo,” Patsy informed him. “Outside stairs. No elevator.”

“Grace can come home with me,” Nico declared. “I have four bedrooms. And a ramp.”

Patsy looked impressed. “Why do you have a ramp?”

He shrugged. “Grace will find it easy to get around. I live right down the street.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Grace grumbled. “Are there any rooms available?”

“I’ll check.” Patsy tried to hide her smile, but Nico saw a twinkle in her eyes when she turned back to him. “But I think Noelle already filled the rest of the rooms.”

“That was fast,” Grace said. “I thought we’d have cancellations after the guests heard about the wedding.”

“I have some news about that,” Patsy said. “But I’ll call you later and fill you in.”

“Hey, Pats! Grace! What’s going on?”

Nico turned to see three burly young men approaching. They were stuffed into identical navy down jackets and looked as if they’d been outside for hours.

“I slipped and fell,” Grace said, looking mortified. “Do not make a big deal about it, okay?”

One of the guys edged Nico aside and lifted the ice pack. “Uh-oh. Looks like a bad sprain or even a fracture. Come on, babe, let’s do it.”

Babe? Do it? Nico couldn’t let that go. “I’m taking her,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” the kid said. “We’ve got the vehicles here and Doc will have her fixed up in no time.”

“But what about the fund-raiser?” Patsy asked. “Aren’t you in charge of that?”

“Yeah, but there are enough other guys coming early. They won’t miss us.” He grinned, showing acres of white teeth. “We can take care of Gracie, easy enough.”

“Fund-raiser?” Nico wanted to deck him, if for no other reason than the sight of his hand on Grace’s bare leg.

“For Search and Rescue,” Grace explained. “You’re catering the appetizers, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Twenty pizzas, and cheese and crackers. Done and done. Not exactly a culinary challenge, but that’s what the group ordered.

“I’ll get your things, Grace,” Patsy said. “You’ll be back here in no time and I’ll see what I can do about a room for you.”

Shoved to the sidelines, Nico watched as Grace was bundled into her black cashmere coat. In a matter of minutes she was out the door, being carried by one of the local EMTs and surrounded by two others. The men joked and laughed as if they were going to a party.

“Don’t look so sad,” Patsy said, touching his arm to get his attention. “You’ll have your chance.”

“I just did. And there it went.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

That got his attention. “Please tell me there’s no room at the inn.”

She grinned. “There is one room available, but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

“Don’t you dare break her heart.”

“I won’t. But she might break mine.”

“I know.” Patsy tapped his chest with her finger. “I’ve watched you mooning over her since you started working here.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah. For a big TV star, you’re kind of pathetic.”

“Not anymore,” he declared. “Not anymore.”