Читать книгу And Then There Is Love - Lori Buckman - Страница 8

Barbara had an early dinner in her office. The chef’s salad, the same on Fiore’s menu, was tasteless - she felt that she was eating chewy cardboard. She was becoming quite paranoid: She imagined that if she stepped outside for a moment the numbers in the computer would be different when she returned. Did the person who was embezzling know what his actions were doing to her psyche, to her self-respect? She made a half-turn and gazed at herself in the little mirror hanging above the computer. “I can’t let this affect me so.” So it was with determination that she stomped out of her office, daring the numbers to change.

As she pushed through the swinging door to the hallway, Carol eagerly beckoned to her as she glanced over toward the stockroom that was to the right of the bar. “Have you seen him?”

“No, I’ve been holed up in the— Seen who?”

“The new employee. I saw him out in the parking lot.”

“Oh Carol, I’ve got so many things to do before dinner.”

She shook her head. “Nope, this is way more important. Eye candy, come do your work.” She peeked through one of the little windows in the double doors to the stockroom and nodded. “He’s in there.” She urged her friend to the door and gazed through the window. “Voila, our new waiter.”

Barbara rolled her eyes doubtfully but obeyed her friend – she looked through the other window. She couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath that escaped her lips.

The man in question was standing with his back to her near the stack of wine boxes that had been delivered the day before and shrugging into the short jacket of his waiter’s uniform. He plucked at the shoulders of his jacket for they were much too tight. He was tall, slim, broad-shouldered and had wavy, coal black hair. Usually not a butt woman, nevertheless Barbara’s eyes were riveted to that part of his anatomy – both were round and firm. And when he turned around she gasped for he was the most handsome man she had ever set eyes on. From his straight forehead and nose to his high prominent cheekbones, determined jaw and sharp chin, his swarthy face was all angles. His full lips were pursed, as he seemed to be whistling. Barbara whispered, “Oh my, oh my.” But her nose touched the window and the door squeaked. His large, black eyes honed in on the cause of the slight creak and focused on her as he peered through one of the windows. He smiled, showing perfect, white teeth as he greeted her with a soundless ‘hello.’

She crouched on the floor and yanked her friend down beside her. “Oh God!” she exclaimed and hissed, “He saw us! Why, why do I listen to you?”

“Because I’m usually up on the latest,” she thumbed behind her, “events.”

Barbara smirked then said seriously, “I didn’t even know we needed another waiter. Carlos must have hired him himself today.”

Just then the devastatingly handsome young man poked his head out the doors. “Signorine, I hear you.” He drew his head back in.

Barbara mouthed, “Italian!”

Carol turned her head toward her and smiled at her usually taciturn friend’s excitement. “His name’s Silvio. What a name. Doesn’t that accent get your blood flowing? What do you think?”

She shrugged nonchalantly though her breathing had accelerated. “J-just a little sexy.”