Читать книгу Ultimate Romance Collection - Rebecca Winters, Amalie Berlin - Страница 82
ОглавлениеVINCENZO REACHED FOR his phone and left a message for the guys to say that he wouldn’t be back at the castello until late. There were other calls from his assistant and his attorney in New York on his voice mail. None of them sounded urgent. He would deal with them later. But Annette’s latest message demanded his attention. Earlier that morning he’d promised to call her back.
After putting on his sunglasses, he climbed in his Maserati and followed Gemma to Florence. The satellite navigation would lead him to the Bonucci Bakery. There was no way he would let her turn things around and disappear on him. He needed the chance to talk to her. The depth of her pain had caused him to reel. This was worse than anything he’d imagined if he’d ever seen her again.
While he was en route, he phoned Annette.
“Is it possible you’ve found some time for me?” she teased, but he heard her underlying impatience and didn’t blame her.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve had business that has taken priority.”
“Vince, you seem different. What’s wrong?”
There was no way to explain to her what was going on inside him right now. But Annette deserved to hear how he felt even if it was going to hurt her. “You’ve asked me before if there was a special woman in my life. I’ve told you no and would never lie to you about that. But in my youth I fell in love with an Italian girl I haven’t seen or heard from in ten years. Today I met up with her by accident.”
He was still trying to recover.
After an ominous quiet, she said, “So what are you saying? That after all this time you find you’re still in love and don’t want me to come for the opening?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m saying that a big portion of my past caught up with me today. To be frank, I’m reeling.” It wouldn’t have been fair to lie to her.
“I sensed there was someone else all this time. She must have a powerful hold on you for those feelings to have lasted over a decade.”
“Annette, I can’t honestly tell you where this is headed.”
What he did know was that seeing Gemma again had stirred up longings in him more intense than he could ever have imagined. To find out that Gemma wasn’t married yet was a miracle. But her anger had been so intense, he needed to talk to her about it.
“Neither can I,” Annette murmured. “Under the circumstances, I don’t intend to wait for calls from you that might not come.”
“I haven’t meant to hurt you.”
“I realize that, but on my part I always felt something was holding you back. If you ever figure it out and find yourself whole of heart, you know where to find me.”
Even deeply upset, she had a graciousness and maturity he had to admire. “I’m sorry, Annette. Give me some time and I’ll get back to you.”
“I won’t be holding my breath, Vince.”
He heard the click.
Though Vincenzo hadn’t wanted to cause her pain, his sense of relief that he didn’t have to pretend with her had removed a burden. He’d told her the only truth he knew, since he needed time to deal with his emotions.
The reality of seeing Gemma again, the incredible coincidence that she’d applied for the pastry chef position, had knocked the foundations from under him.
At ten after six, he entered Florence at the height of evening traffic and found the Bonucci pastry shop. After searching everywhere for her old Fiat, he drove around the corner into an alley. Her blue car sat beside a stairway leading to the second floor of the bakery.
He found another spot along the crowded one-way street. Once he’d parked his car at the rear of the pasteria next door, he took the steps two at a time to the little porch outside her door. To think all these years since leaving the castello this place had been her home. How could he or Dimi have known?
He knocked twice.
Soon he heard, “Chi e?”
He was glad she didn’t automatically open the door. Anyone could be out here. “It’s Vincenzo. I would have phoned you I was coming, but I wasn’t sure you would answer.”
There was a long silence. “Go away!”
“I can’t. Surely you can see that,” he fought back. “I never expected any of this to happen. Even if you refuse to come to work for us, how could you think I would just let you drive away?”
“I’m not going to open my door. Go back to your home, Vincenzo.”
What home? He hadn’t known that feeling in the ten years since he’d last been with her. He broke out in a cold sweat. So much damage had been done, he didn’t know if he could repair any of it, even if he told her the real truth of everything.
“Would you deny your time to any other person you knew well in the past who wanted to get reacquainted after a long period of separation? Since I’ve come all this way and am starving, let’s have dinner at the pasteria next door. We’ll order some wine and reminisce over a time when life was wonderful for both of us.”
“That would be a mistake.”
“You don’t recommend the food? If anyone would know whether it was good or not, you’re the one.”
“Be serious, Vincenzo,” she snapped.
“I’m trying to be. You have no idea how isolated I’ve felt all these years. Dimi and I are the only ones left who can talk about that other life and relate. Our fathers kept us under virtual lock and key, with bodyguards controlling everything we did. You better than anyone know that they only allowed us to have a few friends they picked.
“But all these years there’s been a huge hole, and you know why. Because that other life included you. I need a few hours with you, Gemma.” His voice shook. “Will you grant me that much?”
He waited for her response. “You’re not the person I thought you were, Vincenzo. Otherwise you wouldn’t have left without so much as a goodbye. I was never good enough for you, we both know that. We’ve led separate lives since your disappearance, and we were never the same people growing up.”
His eyes closed tightly, but her pain kept her talking.
“You’re from one world and I’m from another. A little while ago the reminder came from the padrona, who said the Duca di Lombardi was standing outside waiting to see me. There’s no need for us to talk or be with each other again, Vincenzo.”
She knew where to thrust through to the gut. Her mother had done a sensational job of indoctrinating her over the nonsense of ancient class distinctions he couldn’t abide.
“If I swear on my mother’s soul to leave you strictly alone, will you accept the position at the castello to see us through the first three months? Takis and Cesare will be the ones working with you. I’ll stay out of your way unless there’s a professional reason why I have to talk to you about something.”
Was she even listening?
“You can put me on probation, Gemma. If I make one mistake, you can leave immediately, no questions asked. If at the end of the three months you still want to leave, you’ll receive impeccable recommendations and be given a generous severance package of your choosing.”
“Why would you enter into an arrangement like that when you know how I feel?”
“Because your expertise as a pastry chef is unparalleled. My partners will be bitterly disappointed to learn that you’ve refused the position because you can’t forgive me for my past sins.”
“It’s not a matter of forgiveness. The trust is gone.”
Vincenzo couldn’t take this much longer. “They trust me. You have to understand that I asked them to go into business with me. But for me they wouldn’t be here. Not only my integrity, but their financial lives and reputations are on the line. Like me, they want our business venture to work.”
“As you told me earlier, you have three other applicants eager to work there.”
“My friends don’t want anyone else and are convinced that with everything we’ve put in place including your cooking, we’ll succeed beyond our wildest dreams. I know we will, because I grew up on your mother’s delicacies that you’ve perfected. You have no equal, Gemma.”
“Please leave.”
“I only have one more thing to say. You don’t have to make a decision this very minute. I’m on my way back to Milan.” I’ve got to stop and see Dimi. He wasn’t going to believe Gemma had been found.
“Gemma? If you don’t show up for your first orientation meeting with rest of the staff the day after tomorrow, then I’ll tell my partners you found you couldn’t accept the position after all because of a family emergency at the bakery. Naturally we’ll choose one of the other pastry chef finalists.”
She still said nothing.
His pain had reached its zenith. “Arrivederci, tesoro.”
* * *
Gemma gasped. The night in his bedroom when they’d been wrapped in each other’s arms, he’d called her his treasure. While her world spun in reaction to that endearment, she watched out the window. His car traveled down the street until she couldn’t see him anymore.
Surely to accept his offer would mean that she had no self-control, that all he had to do was summon her in his inimitable, seductive way and she’d come running.
What else could she expect when Vincenzo’s immoral father and uncle had been his role models? He might not think he could ever behave as they’d done, but the precedent had been set for decades. Once he married a princess and had children, the need for distraction would come.
With business enterprises on either side of the Atlantic, he’d have ample opportunities to be with women his wife wouldn’t know about. Or would pretend not to know about. Who better than the adoring daughter of the former cook to fill the position as one of his mistresses and provide him amusement during secret getaways when he was in Italy?
Gemma, unmarried and childless, wouldn’t have a life while she waited for those moments of rapture with him. Little by little his need for her would grow more infrequent while she went on getting older and more unfulfilled. Over the centuries, women of the lower class had done as much in order to be with the titled men they’d loved, but Gemma refused to be one of them!
She’d been afraid he’d break her down with words like this. Somehow he was succeeding despite her determination not to listen or be moved. Tears dripped from her eyes while she called Filippa, who’d just come out of a bad relationship.
Her friend knew Gemma’s history. When she heard Vincenzo was back in Gemma’s life, she cried out in shock. For the next hour Gemma told her everything.
Before they hung up, Filippa asked her one salient question. “Did he ever do anything in his past that caused you not to trust him until the day when you learned he had disappeared?”
“No. But we’re grown up now, and he’s the duca. I can’t see our lives together in any way, shape or form.”
“From what you’ve told me, he hasn’t asked for more than a three-month probationary period to help him get their restaurant off the ground. He wants you to have this position because you were the top applicant. Naturally he wants to make it up to you for leaving without an explanation.”
“I know.”
“Remember that he said he needed to make money and couldn’t let his father find out his plans. That sounds like a strong reason for what he did. And don’t forget he said he looked for you over all these years. So what more can he do to make you feel any better? You did sign on with them in good faith, and they did, too.”
Gemma sniffed. Put that way, there was no argument. “You’re right.”
“If I were you, I’d agree to his offer. He promised to leave you alone away from work, and he would be a fool if he reneges. Just think, Gemma—the opportunity to be the head pastry chef there will give you entrée anywhere in the world when you leave. With a five-star recommendation, you’ll have carte blanche with whichever wonderful restaurant in France you’d like and you could realize your dream.”
Filippa made it sound possible, even easy. But she’d never met Vincenzo Gagliardi and had no comprehension of the man Gemma had always loved. Every day of those three months she worked at the castello, she’d be in agony thinking about him, desiring him. Was he on the premises, or was he in New York? How soon would the media reveal breaking news about the fiercely handsome, dashing Duca di Lombardi coming back home? Which gorgeous princess would be the one to catch his eye and become his bride and the mother of his children?
“Gemma? Are you still there?”
She blinked away the moisture. “Yes, of course. I was deep in thought. Sorry.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure, but I love you for listening to me and helping me sort through my pain.”
“You’ve done the same thing for me too many times to count. I’ve got to go right now. Let me know what you finally decide.”
“I will. Ciao, Filippa.”
“Ciao, amica.”
While Gemma fixed herself an omelet, she reran their conversation over in her mind. By the time she went to bed, her pragmatic side had taken over. She needed a job and had been offered one that would make her the envy of everyone at her school. There was no way she could turn down his offer.
When she gave her mother the news, she’d tell her it was only for a three-month period. But she’d wait to tell her mamma anything until Mirella got back from her vacation. By then Gemma would have lined up another job so that when the three months were up, they’d leave Lombardi and the castello behind.
With a top recommendation, she would be set up to find a great restaurant in the South of France that would hire her. In time she could accrue enough savings to put down roots.
Gemma had dreamed of buying a little villa in Vence or Grasse with a garden and some fruit trees overlooking the Mediterranean. She’d won an award for her jam. Since her mother would be living with her, maybe they’d make their own and sell it locally. Anything could happen. Filippa had made her see that.
For now she would have to trust Vincenzo to keep their bargain. As she’d told her friend, she’d trusted Vincenzo in the past. It would be her own fault if she couldn’t remain strong and stay away from him.
* * *
Grateful for her friend’s advice, she woke up early the next morning and got busy house cleaning. When her mother and aunt returned from England, they’d find the place spotless. At four that afternoon, she left with her large suitcase and went down the steps to her car parked in the alley. It was best her cousin didn’t know where she was going until Gemma had told her mother everything first.
When she reached Sopri, she called on the padrona di casa and told her she would like to stay at the pensione for a three-month period because she’d be working at the new hotel. Would that be possible?
The older woman couldn’t have been more delighted and they settled on a good price. “You’ll be working for the duca. Any arrangement you want is fine.” On that note she let Gemma into the room she’d had before with a huge smile. Such was Vincenzo’s effect on every female, young or old.
Gemma got settled in and pulled out her laptop. She needed to send emails to London and Barcelona and thank them for setting up appointments with her. In her note she told them she was sorry but she’d found another position. If by any chance it didn’t work out at the castello, she wondered if they would allow her to reapply?
Once that was done, she got ready for bed and lay back against the pillows. Tomorrow morning she’d be meeting with Signor Donati at nine for the orientation meeting. The newly hired kitchen staff would also be present. Being part of a hotel, the restaurant would serve meals throughout the day and evening as well as provide room service. Such organization required a genius at the head.
Vincenzo.
Because he was the one who’d masterminded everything, he would always have input. She expected that. Naturally they’d see each other coming and going, much the same as they’d done ten years earlier. But this time everything would be different. In order to survive, she was forced to put on her armor and leave the sweet innocence of their youthful love in the past.
* * *
After confiding in Dimi the evening before, Vincenzo had worked through the night on his personal business affairs here in Italy. Establishing Nistri Technologies in the south of the country consumed a lot of his spare time, but that was good. He existed on coffee, trying not to think about what would happen if Gemma didn’t show up today. He hadn’t told the guys anything, not wanting to alarm them.
His cousin didn’t have great hopes where Gemma was concerned. She was an unknown entity at this point. Vincenzo didn’t like hearing Dimi’s opinion but appreciated that his was the voice of reason.
After a shower and shave, he put on a business suit and tie before leaving his tower room to go downstairs. His watch said it was ten to nine, and already the ballroom appeared full. But as he looked around, his worst nightmare was confirmed, because Gemma was nowhere in sight.
His fear that she’d left Florence and he’d never see her again came close to paralyzing him, but for the guys’ sake, he had to pull himself together. He’d wanted to hire security to keep an eye on her but had resisted the impulse. That’s what his father had done to him and Dimi. He knew Gemma had already accused him in her heart of being like his father. He didn’t dare make that mistake.
At their first break in the morning schedule, Vincenzo would take his partners aside and give them the bad news. While they ran the next segment without him, he would have to go to his office and contact their other applicants. If none of them were available, there was more work to do.
A blackness had descended on Vincenzo as he joined Takis in front of their awaiting audience. He was on the verge of asking him about Cesare when the Sicilian entered through the tall double doors. Gemma followed him in. At the first sight of her, Vincenzo’s heart kicked him in the ribs so hard he almost moaned aloud. Somehow she’d managed to put aside her hurt and anger enough to accept his proposition.
She’d come dressed in a fabulous peach-colored suit. It was a miracle he had any breath left. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she found a chair on the end of a row halfway toward the front. Vincenzo was still in a state of shock when Takis stood up with the microphone in hand.
“Welcome, everyone! Take a look around. The success of the new Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi is in your hands. By the end of the day it’s our hope you’ll feel like family. It’s the only way our enterprise will work.”
Vincenzo had hoped everyone they’d hired would feel like family. After all the work he and his partners had done over the last six months, he couldn’t help but be proud of what they’d accomplished so far.
He was happy that he’d asked the guys to employ as many local staff as possible, especially those who hadn’t been able to find work lately. It was a way to give back to the community that had been harmed because his father and uncle had been such bad people.
For a long time he’d been worried that he’d involved his friends in a project that could have professional as well as personal repercussions if things didn’t go well. But Gemma’s appearance a minute go went a long way to help calm some of those fears. With both of them together again in the same room, he felt an odd sense of rightness.
“At your interviews, you were given a small history of the castello. For as long as you work here, guests will ask you repeatedly about this iconic hundred-years-old structure. As you’ve learned, it was the home of the first Duca di Lombardi of the house of Gagliardi in the eighteen hundreds.
“Today I’m honored to introduce one of the owners and chief operating officer for the estate, security and publicity, Vincenzo Nistri Gagliardi, seated on my right.”
A collective sound of surprise was followed by resounding applause that filled the room. With the media calling for information at this point, Vincenzo had given Takis permission to offer public disclosure of their three-owner enterprise. He’d felt it was time he embraced his name again. But there’d be no mention of the family title.
“I’m Takis Manolis, one of the owners and general manager of the hotel. On my left is Cesare Donati, the other owner and general manager for the restaurant.” More clapping ensued.
Takis finished talking and handed Vincenzo the mic.
Vincenzo only intended to say a few words that would put the floating rumors to rest. “Some of you may know this was my home for the first eighteen years of my life. Though I’ve spent the last ten years in New York City, my roots are here.”
The girl who made it my own private heaven is seated among you.
“My business partners and I hope this will become a desired destination for locals and tourists from around the globe. If we all work together, I know it will be a great success. Thank you.”
This time everyone got to their feet and kept clapping. He handed the mic to Cesare and sat down.
His friend took over the reins. When the noise subsided, he introduced their head chef, Monsieur Maurice Troudeau. Then he turned to Gemma.
“In the words of Schiaparelli, ‘a good cook is like a sorceress who dispenses happiness.’ That would describe the Italian desserts of our executive pastry chef, Gemma Bonucci Rizzo. Please stand, signorina.”
There was more applause.
Vincenzo’s pride in her accomplishments brought a lump to his throat. At the same time he couldn’t stop his eyes from fastening on the lines of her beautiful figure.
Cesare continued to introduce the entire kitchen staff that also included the sous chefs, dishwashers, and front of house staff. Takis followed by introducing the front desk group, the head of housekeeping and the laundry staff. Then it was Vincenzo’s turn once more to present the estate manager and gardeners. The security men made their own presentation.
After a ten-minute break, his partners met with the employees under them to get down to specifics on the job, including the hours they would work. That left Vincenzo to circulate.
He visited Takis’s group first and added a few words. Then he walked to the kitchen, where Cesare laid out the hours for each shift and their duties, which included room service and the dining room. Vincenzo refused to look at Gemma. After saying a few more words of greeting, he made certain he stayed on the far side of the room away from her.
Gemma and Maurice had been asked to make out a day’s worth of sample menus for the three meals they’d serve the day of the grand opening. Cesare looked them over before passing them to Vincenzo for his opinion. Since he didn’t want to give Gemma any fuel to leave and never come back, he took the menus and walked to his office.
After sitting at his desk for a few minutes, he realized that having to distance himself from her was going to be the hardest thing he would ever have to do in his life. The key was to focus on work.
He spent the next few minutes studying her dessert choices, including the rolls, breads, preserves and jams she’d suggested to accompany Maurice’s entrées and specialty dishes. They were both masters at what they did. He put his seal of approval on them.
But thoughts of Gemma made it impossible for him to stand his own company any longer. He walked to Cesare’s office to give him the menus. His friend wasn’t around. Vincenzo left them on his desk and went in search of Takis, who was still in the ballroom directing some of the newly hired staff to put the chairs away.
He waved. “Ehi, Vincenzo—all in all, I think it went well.”
“I agree.” But it would have been a disaster if Gemma hadn’t shown up.
“Want to have drinks on the east patio later?”
“Sounds good, but I’ll see. I have to run an errand, but I should be back soon.”
Vincenzo hurried out of the castello to his car, too restless to stay put. After getting behind the wheel, he took off and drove aimlessly. He had a hunch Gemma had spent last night at the same pensione as before. If he returned by way of Sopri later, he assumed he’d see her car parked in front. But much as he wanted to find out where she was staying, he didn’t dare.
Instead he ended up in the little village of Cisliano, only three miles from Sopri. He passed in front of the Rho Bistro. The owners had had the unique idea of waiting for all the customers to arrive. Then they started cooking the same menu for everyone and served it at one time.
Vincenzo had eaten there several times in his youth after a bike ride with Dimi, always being followed by a guard his father had hired. On his eighteenth birthday, he and Dimi had slipped away from their tutor and the guard. They’d arranged to meet Gemma and Bianca here.
He remembered that Friday as if it had been yesterday. Bianca’s mother had taken pity on him and his cousin. She’d dropped the girls off and come back for them two hours later without telling Gemma’s mother, who would have been upset.
The memory of that red-letter day had taken hold of him. Wanting to relive it, he decided to go in, but parking was difficult. He ended up driving around the corner to find a spot. For the moment all he cared about was soaking up those moments when he knew they’d been crazy in love with each other.
As usual, he discovered the noisy, unpretentious place was filled with summer customers at the dinner hour. There was one empty table in the corner partially separate from the others, probably available for any overflow. He grabbed it and was served coffee while everyone waited to be served.
