Читать книгу The Man, The Ring, The Wedding - Patricia Thayer - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Two days later, John stood in the hotel lobby with the security guard he’d hired that morning when the front door opened and Angelina Covelli came into the lobby.

He stopped and stared as she walked across the room. She was wearing a black print skirt that revealed the curve of her hips. A black jacket hung open over a red sweater that didn’t hide the fullness of her breasts. Her silky hair was worn free and bounced against her shoulders with each step. She was lovely.

“Well, good morning, Angelina,” the security guard said.

She smiled. “Hello, Harry. Are you working here?”

“Yes, he is,” John said as he joined them. He hadn’t seen Angelina in two days, not since she’d run out of his apartment.

“Hello, John,” she said stiffly.

“Good morning, Angelina.”

He couldn’t believe he’d almost given in to the temptation to kiss her the other day. It would be a disaster for him to get involved with Angelina Covelli. Contrary to popular opinion, he wasn’t that much of a jerk. Maybe he should just pack up and let Mark handle everything. But one look at this woman and he knew he wanted to stay. Damn it.

“I felt it best to have someone keep an eye on things since there will be so many people in and out of here the next few weeks.”

“Probably a good idea.”

Just then a messenger came to the front door. “Excuse me for a moment,” John said and went to handle the interruption.

Angelina drew a deep breath and released it. She had the written bid in her briefcase, the ticket to her future—more importantly, the future of Covelli and Sons. She had wanted Rick and Rafe to come with her, but they suddenly had other things to do. Oh, well, she was a big girl, she could handle this.

Besides, seeing John Rossi at the hotel was safe, unlike seeing him at the apartment. She wasn’t going back there. Ever. If something had happened between them, if he had kissed her, she could probably say goodbye to this job—and a future position for her at the renovated hotel.

Angelina looked across the room at John. He was dressed in black dress slacks and a forest-green sweater. She eyed his muscular chest and shoulders as broad as her brothers’. The man had to do more than just sit behind a desk to keep a body like that. Her gaze traveled to his square-cut jaw, cleft chin and deep-set sable eyes. His coal-black hair was perfectly trimmed around the ears with a slight wave across his forehead. He was so handsome....

Stop it! she commanded herself. She never ogled men. Of course, John Rossi wasn’t any ordinary man. Shaking her head, she tried to concentrate on the business at hand as John walked back to her.

“Is there a special reason for your visit this morning?” he asked coolly.

A little surprised at his curt manner, Angelina reached inside her briefcase and handed him a folder. “I brought by Covelli and Sons’ written bid.”

He took it “That was a fast response.”

“Rafe was working on this long before you came to town. I think you’ll like the ideas he’s come up with.”

John opened the file and studied the first page.

Angelina stood next to him and caught the subtle fragrance of his musk cologne. She was reminded of the last time they were this close. She felt her heart accelerate and quickly gathered her strength and concentrated on business.

“As you can see, I created a chart to reflect the cost for materials and labor, floor by floor. So it will be easier to make any changes or additions you would like.” She stepped back as he continued to read it.

“This is good. Very thorough, Angelina.” He closed the file. “Have you had a chance to work up a report on your ideas?”

“Why, yes. I just wasn’t sure if you were serious.”

He looked stern. “When you get to know me better, you’ll realize I never kid about business.”

She wondered if John Rossi let anyone get close on a personal level—or was he all business. She opened her briefcase again and took out another file. “Neither do I.” She handed him her four-page report. “I discussed some of my ideas with my brothers—only to see if they were structurally possible.”

He gave her a hint of a smile. “You’ve been busy.”

“I take my career very seriously.”

He glanced over her file. “I’m impressed.”

She should have been pleased, but she’d been hoping they could look over some of the proposals now. “The computer makes things easier. If you have any questions...”

The sound of footsteps coming down the staircase caused Angelina to pause. She looked up to find Gus Norton from Norton Construction Company. Oh no. She fought back a groan as he walked toward her and John.

The moment Gus saw her he grinned. “Well, well, if it isn’t Signorina Angelina.”

“Hello, Mr. Norton.” Angelina forced herself to be civil and not announce that Gus Norton was a terrible builder, not to mention a jerk. He had continued to spread rumors about her father, even after his name had been cleared.

“Now, come on, little Lina, we’ve known each other long enough to be on a first-name basis.”

She turned to John. “I better go, Mr. Rossi. Just let us know your decision.”

“So your brothers are turning in a bid, too.” Gus’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure glad you got that mess with your daddy all cleared up. ’Course, he did look mighty guilty for a long time.”

Angelina glared at Gus. “Don’t you dare say a word about my father....”

John cut her off. He stepped between her and the contractor, his eyes fixed, his voice steady, but Angelina could see his hands clenched into fists. “I want to thank you for stopping by, Mr. Norton, but I won’t be needing your services after all.”

Gus looked confused. “But I haven’t given you my bid.”

“I repeat, there will be no need,” John said, remaining steady and cool.

Gus’s gaze went from John to Angelina. “Oh, I get it.” He grinned nastily. “Well, I guess I can’t compete with what she’s offering you.”

It happened in a split second. John grabbed Gus by the shirt and pushed him up against the wall before Norton realized what had happened.

“Look, you piece of scum,” John hissed in a low voice. “I wouldn’t hire anyone who insults a lady in my presence. And if you think you’re not getting the job because Angelina has something special, well she does—her ideas and her brothers’ talent. They have some very good ideas on how to restore this hotel. So far, from you, I’ve heard nothing. I think it would be wise for you to leave.” John released him. “Harry, show him the door.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Rossi,” the security guard said, taking Gus by the arm and escorting him out the door.

John turned to Angelina. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.” Seeing her fighting tears, he said, “Ah, cara. Don’t waste your time over someone like him.”

Angelina shook her head. “I’m not. It’s what he said about my father. He wasn’t guilty,” she insisted. “His name was cleared. But it still won’t go away.”

John reached out and caressed her face. “Shh, Angelina. It doesn’t matter what that creep said. I know Rafaele Covelli was innocent of all charges,” he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes watery. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” he murmured.

Then John lowered his head to hers, and Angelina realized he was dangerously close. So close he could kiss her, and she wasn’t going to stop him.

But Harry returned. “Mr. Rossi, Mr. Norton is gone, and I told him not to return or I’d call the police.”

With his gaze never leaving Angelina, John said, “Thank you, Harry.”

“Let’s go somewhere to get some fresh air,” John suggested. He noticed Angelina’s panic and smiled. “You can stop worrying, Ms. Covelli. I just want to talk.”

There was nothing wrong with just talking, Angelina decided. She nodded. “I know a place.”

Angelina directed John four blocks to the city park. In silence, they walked through a grove of large maple trees whose leaves were all but gone from the branches. Although the sun was out, autumn was quickly turning into winter.

They continued their leisurely stroll until they reached the fountain. A cherubic angel looked heavenward from the top and water should have trickled down into a round pool below, but the fountain had been shut off for the winter.

Pulling up the collar on her wool jacket to ward off the chill, Angelina sat on the concrete edge. “My dad used to bring me here when I was a little girl. He said he named me Angelina because when I was born, I looked like an angel.” She felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “Silly, isn’t it? But it’s something I keep in my heart.” She sighed. “Dad’s been gone two and a half years.”

John nodded and put his hands into his jacket pockets. “I know. As policy, Rossi International checks out all companies submitting a bid on every project. I learned all about the trouble you had getting his name cleared after the construction accident.” He sat down beside her. “It must have been hard on your family.”

She looked at him. “There was never a question about my dad’s innocence. Not with us. We knew he’d never use substandard materials on a job. But to exonerate him we had to find the person who did. And thanks to a private investigator everything got solved.”

“Who did do it?”

“The son of a lumberyard owner. He was a drug addict and needed money to support his habit so he sold low-grade materials at top dollar, passing them off as premium goods. He’s in jail now, serving a ten-year sentence for manslaughter. He’ll probably get out on parole in a few years.”

For some reason, John wished he could ease her pain. Strange, he hadn’t even known Rafaele Covelli. But he was getting to know his daughter... too well. “Can you handle that?”

She shrugged. “Nothing can bring Dad back. And Dad wouldn’t want us to make our lives miserable.”

“That’s a good attitude, but it may not always be easy to stick to,” John said.

“Well, we’ve had years of practice with the curse.”

“Curse?”

She nodded. “For over fifty years there’s been a curse on our family. It started in the Second World War when Nonna was promised to one man, but was in love with another...my grandfather, Enrico Covelli.” Angelina shrugged. “The family of the man who was left at the altar put a curse on my grandparents. Ever since, Nonna has prayed that it would somehow end. Whenever something bad happens she feels she’s to blame for it.”

John tensed. “Do you believe in this curse?”

Angelina stared down into the fountain as the wind lifted her hair. “On bad days, it’s easy to use it as an excuse. But I don’t think that my father died because of a curse. Or Justin...” Her voice trailed off, just as John wanted her to tell him who this Justin was.

Suddenly she was smiling again. “There’s also been so many wonderful things that have happened to our family. Like Rick striking it rich in the Texas oil fields and returning home after so many years. Both Rick and Rafe finding love. The success of Mom’s restaurant. The carpentry business coming back around.”

He loved the way her eyes sparkled. How her mouth lifted at the corners. How she chewed on her bottom lip when she was nervous. “Sounds like the Covelli family is doing well. So you have everything you want?”

“Oh, there’s always more to want.”

He knew all about wanting, he thought as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a coin and handed it to her. “Then wish for it.”

She looked at him, then down at the quarter. “Boy, wishes cost a lot these days.”

“Inflation. Come on, make your wish.”

“I’m not a child, John. I don’t believe things happen that easily. Besides, there isn’t any water in the fountain.”

“Details.” He waved a hand. “Maybe it is that easy, and we only make it hard. What’s the harm in asking?”