Читать книгу The Vineyards Of Calanetti - Rebecca Winters - Страница 38

CHAPTER EIGHT

“LEAVE NOW.”

Dani’s breaths came in quick, shallow puffs. No one wanted to be fired. But right at that moment she wasn’t concerned about her loss. Her real upset came from failing Rafe. She’d thought he’d be happy with the added exposure. Instead, she’d totally misinterpreted the situation. Contrary to her success in the dining room, she wasn’t a chef. She didn’t know a chef’s concerns. She had no real restaurant experience.

Still, she had instincts—

Didn’t she?

“I’ll fix this.”

He turned away. “This isn’t about fixing the problem. This is about you truly overstepping this time. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve had personal conversations or because to this point all of your ideas have been good. But no one, absolutely no one, makes such an important decision without my input. You are fired.”

He walked into the kitchen without looking back. Dani could have followed him, maybe even should have followed him, but the way he walked away hurt so much she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Not because she’d angered him over a mistake, but because he was so cool. So distant. So deliberate and so sure that he wanted her gone. As if their evenings at the tavern hadn’t happened, as if all those stolen moments—that kiss—had meant nothing, he was tossing her out of his life.

Tears stung her eyes. The pain that gripped her hurt like a physical ache.

But common sense weaved its way into her thoughts. Why was she taking this personally? She didn’t love him. She barely knew him. She had a fiancé—almost. A guy who might not be romantic, but who was certainly stable. She’d be going home in a little over two weeks. There could be nothing between her and Rafe. He was passion wrapped in electricity. Moody. Talented. Sweet but intense. Too sexy for his own good—or hers. And they weren’t supposed to be attracted to each other, but they were.

Staying at Mancini’s had been like tempting fate. Teasing both of them with something they couldn’t have. Making them tense, and him moody. Hot one minute and cold the next.

So maybe it really was time to go?

She slammed the stack of menus into their shelf of the podium, grabbed her purse and raced out.

When she arrived at the villa, Louisa was on a ladder, staring at the watermarks as if she could divine how they got there.

“What are you doing home?”

Dani yanked the pins holding up her short curls and let them fall to her chin, as she kicked off Louisa’s high, high heels.

“I was fired.”

Louisa climbed off the ladder. “What?” She shook her head. “He told you to dress like the authority in the dining room and you were gorgeous. How could he not like how you looked?”

“Oh, I think he liked how I looked.” Dani sucked in a breath, fully aware now that that was the problem. They were playing with fire. They liked each other. But neither of them wanted to. And she was done with it.

“Come to Rome with me.”

“You’re not going to try to get your job back?”

“It just all fell into place in my head. Rafe and I are attracted, but my boyfriend asked me to marry him. Though I didn’t accept, I can’t really be flirting with another guy. So Rafe—”

Louisa drew in a quick breath. “You know, I wasn’t going to mention this because it’s not my business, but now that you brought it up... Don’t you think it’s kind of telling that you hopped on a plane to Italy rather than accept your boyfriend’s proposal?”

“I already had this trip scheduled.”

“Do you love this guy?”

Dani hesitated, thinking of her last conversation with Paul and how he’d ordered her not to call him anymore. The real kicker wasn’t his demand. It was that it hadn’t affected her. She didn’t miss their short, irrelevant conversations. In six months, she hadn’t really missed him.

Oh, God. That was the thing her easy, intense attraction to Rafe was really pointing out. Her relationship to Paul might provide a measure of security, but she didn’t love him.

She fell to a kitchen chair.

“Oh, sweetie. If you didn’t jump up and down for joy when this guy proposed, and you find yourself attracted to another man, you do not want to accept that proposal.”

Dani slumped even further in her seat. “I know.”

“You should go back to Mancini’s and tell Rafe that.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No. No! He’s way too much for me. Too intense. Too everything. He has me working twelve-hour days when I’m supposed to be on holiday finding my foster mother’s relatives, enjoying some time with them before I go home.”

“You’re leaving me?”

Dani raised her eyes to meet Louisa’s. “You’ve always known I was only here for a month. I have just over two weeks left. I need to start looking for the Felice family now.” She smiled hopefully because she suddenly, fervently didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want the thoughts about Rafe that would undoubtedly haunt her now that she knew she couldn’t accept Paul’s proposal. “Come with me.”

“To Rome?”

“You need a break from studying everything that’s wrong with the villa. I have to pay for a room anyway. We can share it. Then we can come back and I’ll still have time to help you catalog everything that needs to be fixed.”

Louisa’s face saddened. “And then you’ll catch a plane and be gone for good.”

Dani rose. “Not for good.” She caught Louisa’s hands. “We’re friends. You’ll stay with me when you have to come back to the States. I’ll visit you here in Italy.”

Louisa laughed. “I really could use a break from staring at so many things that need repairing and trying to figure out how I’m going to get it all done.”

“So it’s set. Let’s pack now and go.”

Within an hour, they were at the bus station. With Mancini’s and Rafe off the list of conversation topics, they chitchatted about the scenery that passed by as their bus made its way to Rome. Watching Louisa take it all in, as if trying to memorize the country in which she now owned property, a weird sense enveloped Dani. It was clear that everything was new, unique to Louisa. But it all seemed familiar to Dani, as if she knew the trees and grass and chilly February hills, and when she returned to the US she would miss them.

Which was preposterous. She was a New York girl. She needed the opportunities a big city provided. She’d never lived in the country. So why did every tree, every landmark, every winding road seem to fill a need inside her?

The feeling followed her to Rome. To the alleyways between the quaint buildings. To the sidewalk cafés and bistros. To the Colosseum, museums and fountains she took Louisa to see.

And suddenly the feeling named itself. Home. What she felt on every country road, at every landmark, gazing at every blue, blue sky and grassy hill was the sense that she was home.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She told herself she wasn’t home. She was merely familiar with Italy now because she’d lived in Rome for months. Though that made her feel better for a few minutes, eventually she realized that being familiar with Rome didn’t explain why she’d felt she belonged at Mancini’s.

She shoved that thought away. She did not belong at Mancini’s.

The next day, Dani and Louisa found Rosa’s family and were invited to supper. The five-course meal began, reminding her of Rafe, of his big, elaborate dinners, the waitresses who were becoming her friends, the customers who loved her.The weepy sense that she had lost her home filled her. Rightly or wrongly, she’d become attached to Mancini’s, but Rafe had fired her.

She had lost the place where she felt strong and smart and capable. The place where she was making friends who felt like family. The place where she—no matter how unwise—was falling for a guy who made her breath stutter and her knees weak.

Because the guy she felt so much for had fired her.

Her brave facade fell away and she excused herself. In the bathroom, she slid down the wall and let herself cry. She’d never been so confused in her life.

* * *

“Rafe, there’s a customer who’d like to talk to you.”

Rafe set down his knife and walked to Mila, who stood in front of the door that led to the dining room. “Great, let’s go.”

Pleased to be getting a compliment, he reached around Mila and pushed open the door for her. Since Dani had gone, compliments had been fewer and farther between. He needed the boost.

Mila paused by a table with two twentysomething American girls. Wearing thick sweaters and tight jeans, they couldn’t hide their tiny figures. Or their ages. Too old for college and too young to have amassed their own fortunes, they appeared to be the daughters of wealthy men, in Europe, spending their daddies’ money. Undoubtedly, they’d heard of him. Bored and perhaps interested in playing with a celebrity chef, they might be looking for some fun. If he handled this right, one of them could be sharing Chianti with him that night.

Ignoring the tweak of a reminder of sharing that wine with Dani, her favorite, he smiled broadly. “What can I do for you ladies?”

“Your ravioli sucked.”

That certainly was not what he’d expected.

He bowed slightly, having learned a thing or two from his former hostess. He ignored the sadness that shot through him at even the thought of her, and said, “Allow me to cover your bill.”

“Cover our bill?” The tiny blonde lifted a ravioli with her fork and let it plop to her plate. “You should pay us for enduring even a bite of this drivel.”

The dough of that ravioli had serenaded his palms as he worked it. The sweet sauce had kissed his tongue. The problem wasn’t his food but the palates of the diners.

Still, remembering Dani, he held his temper as he gently reached down and took the biceps of the blonde. “My apologies.” He subtly guided her toward the door. The woman was totally cooperative until they got to the podium, and then she squirmed as if he was hurting her, and made a hideous face. Her friend snapped a picture with her phone.

“Get it on Instagram!” the blonde said as they raced out the door. “Rafe Mancini sinks to new lows!”

Furious, Rafe ran after them, but they jumped into their car and peeled out of his parking lot before he could catch them.

After a few well-aimed curses, he counted to forty. Great. Just when he thought rumors of his temper had died, two spoiled little girls were about to resurrect them.

He returned to the quiet dining room. Taking another page from Dani’s book, he said, “I’m sorry for the disturbance. Everyone, please, enjoy your meals.”

A few diners glanced down. One woman winced. A couple or two pretended to be deep in conversation, as if trying to avoid his misery.

With a weak smile, he walked into the kitchen, over to his workstation and picked up a knife.

Emory scrambled over and whispered, “You’re going to have to find her.”

Facing the wall, so no one could see, Rafe squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t have to ask who her was. The shifts Daniella had been gone had been awful. This was their first encounter with someone trying to lure out his temper, but there had been other problems. Squabbles among the waitresses. Seating mishaps. Lost reservations.

“Things are going wrong, falling through the cracks,” Emory continued.

“This is my restaurant. I will find and fix mistakes.”

“No. If there’s anything Dani taught us, it’s that you’re a chef. You are a businessman, yes. But you are not the guy who should be in the dining room. You are the guy who should be trotted out for compliments. You are the special chef made more special by the fact that you must be enticed out to the dining room.”

He laughed, recognizing he liked the sound of that because he did like to feel special. Or maybe he liked feeling that his food was special.

“Did you ever stop to think that you don’t have a temper with the customers or the staff when Dani’s around?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. With the exception of being on edge because of his attraction to her, his temperament had improved considerably. “Yes.”

Emory chuckled as if surprised by his easy acquiescence. “Because she does the tasks that you aren’t made to do, which frees you up to do the things you like to do. So, let’s just bring her back.”

Missing Dani was about so, so much more than Emory knew. Not just a loss of menial tasks but a comfort level. It was as if she brought sunshine into the room. Into his life. But she was engaged.

“Why should I go after her?” Rafe finally faced Emory. “She is returning to America in two weeks.”

“Maybe we can persuade her to stay?”

He sniffed a laugh. Leaning down so that only Emory would hear, he said, “She has a fiancé in New York.”

Emory’s features twisted into a scowl. “And she’s in Italy? For months? Without him? Doesn’t sound like much of a fiancé to me.”

That brought Rafe up short. There was no way in hell he’d let the woman he loved stay alone in Italy for months. Especially not if the woman he loved was Daniella.

He didn’t tell Emory that. His reasoning was mixed up in feelings that he wasn’t supposed to have. He’d gone the route of a relationship once. He’d given up apprenticeships to please Kamila. Which meant he’d given up his dream for her. And still they hadn’t made it.

But he’d learned a lesson. Relationships only put the future of his restaurants at stake, so he satisfied himself with one-night stands.

Dani would not be a one-night stand.

But Mancini’s really wasn’t fine without her.

And Mancini’s was his dream. He needed Daniella at his restaurant way too much to break his own rule about relationships. And that was the real bottom line. Getting involved with her would risk his dream as much as Kamila had. He needed her as an employee and he needed to put everything else out of his mind.

Emory caught Rafe’s arm. “Maybe there is an opportunity here. If she’s truly unhappy, especially with her fiancé, you might be able to convince her Mancini’s should be her new career.”

That was exactly what Rafe intended to do.

“But you can’t have that discussion over the phone. You need to go to Palazzo di Comparino tomorrow. Talk to her personally. Make your case. Offer her money.”

“Okay. I’ll be out tomorrow morning, maybe all day if I need the time. You handle things while I’m gone.”

Emory grinned. “That’s my boy.”

* * *

At the crack of dawn the next morning, Louisa woke Dani and said she was ready to take the bus back to Monte Calanetti. She was happy to have met Dani’s foster mom’s relatives, but she was nervous, antsy about Palazzo di Comparino. It was time to go back.

After grabbing coffee at a nearby bistro, Dani walked her friend to the bus station, then spent the day with her foster mother’s family. By late afternoon, she left, also restless. Like Louisa, she’d loved meeting the Felice family, but they weren’t her family. Her family was the little group of restaurant workers at Mancini’s.

Saddened, she began the walk back to her hotel. A block before she reached it, she passed the bistro again. Though the day was crisp, it was sunny. Warm in the rays that poured down on a little table near the sidewalk, she sat.

She ordered coffee, telling herself it wasn’t odd that she felt a connection to the staff at Mancini’s. They were nice people. Personable. Passionate. Of course, she felt as if they were family. She’d mothered the waitresses, babied the customers and fallen for Emory like a favorite uncle.

But she’d never see any of them again. She’d been fired from Mancini’s. Rafe hated her. She wouldn’t go home happy, satisfied to have met Rosa’s relatives, because the connection she’d made had been to a totally different set of people. She would board her plane depressed. Saddened. Returning to a man who didn’t even want to pick her up at the airport. A man whose marriage proposal she was going to have to refuse.

A street vendor caught her arm and handed her a red rose.

Surprised, she looked at him, then the rose, then back at him again. “Grazie...I think.”

He grinned. “It’s not from me. It’s from that gentleman over there.” He pointed behind him.

Dani’s eyes widened when she saw Rafe leaning against a lamppost. Wearing jeans, a tight T-shirt and the waist-length black wool coat that he’d worn to the tavern, he looked sexy. But also alone. Very alone. The way she felt in the pit of her stomach when she thought about going back to New York.

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.