Читать книгу The Vineyards Of Calanetti - Rebecca Winters - Страница 58
ОглавлениеWHY EXACTLY HAD he agreed to this?
The last thing Angelo wanted to do was take a stroll through Monte Calanetti. It was like taking a walk back through history—a history that he preferred not to dwell on. Still, he had to admit that having Kayla along would make the journey back in time a little more tolerable, but he still didn’t see how it was going to help him create a winning pitch.
He paced back and forth in the hotel lobby, waiting for Kayla to finish getting ready for their outing. He’d also wanted to check with the front desk to make sure that extending their stay wouldn’t be an issue.
“Mr. Amatucci, you’re in luck.” The concierge strode up to him. “We’ve just had a cancellation. And with a bit of juggling we’ve been able to keep you and your assistant in your suite of rooms.” The young man, who was polished from the top of his short cut hair down to his spiffed-up dress shoes, looked quite pleased with himself. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Actually there is.” Angelo wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he decided that Kayla deserved a night out for being such a good sport. “I’ve heard that Mancini’s is quite a popular restaurant.”
“Yes, it is. We’re so lucky to have had Raffaele Mancini return to the village. Mancini’s is so popular that they only take reservations.”
That’s what Angelo suspected. “Would you mind making a reservation for myself and my assistant for tomorrow evening?”
The concierge’s face creased with worry lines.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well, sir. They’re usually booked well in advance.”
Angelo wasn’t used to being put off. Even in New York he didn’t have a problem getting into the most popular restaurants. How in the world was it that he was being turned down in little old Monte Calanetti? Impossible.
“Do you know who I am?”
The young man’s eyes opened wide, and then he nodded.
Angelo got the distinct impression that the young man didn’t have a clue who he was or what power he wielded outside of the Tuscany countryside. He felt as though he’d stepped back in time, becoming a nobody who faded into the crowd. With his pride pricked, he gave the young man a pointed look. But he knew that he was letting his past get the best of him. He swallowed down the unwarranted agitation. Of course the young man didn’t know him. The concierge wasn’t much more than a kid.
Angelo decided upon a new approach. “Forgive me. My tone was uncalled-for just now. When you call for the reservations, tell them that the owner of Amatucci & Associates is requesting a table as we are considering including them in the pitch for the royal wedding.”
Maybe he had put it on a little thick just now, but he wanted—no, he needed to prove to everyone including himself that he had far surpassed everyone’s expectations of him—especially his father’s. Angelo’s gut churned at the memory of his father turning to him in anger and saying, You’ll never amount to anything.
“Yes, sir.” The concierge attempted a nervous smile. “I’ll do that right away. I had no idea, sir—”
“It’s okay.” Angelo tipped the young man handsomely to make up for his brusqueness. “I just need you to know that this dinner is very important.” But suddenly Angelo was no longer talking about business or proving himself to the villagers or even the royal wedding. His mind was on Kayla. He liked making her happy, and he was hoping this dinner would earn him another smile or two.
“I’ll get right on it, sir.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Angelo moved over to the small sitting area in the lobby to wait for Kayla. Just about to reach for the newspaper to find out what was going on around the world, Angelo caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Curious to see if it was Kayla, he turned.
His gaze settled on her slender form. He stood transfixed as he took in her beauty. Kayla’s auburn wavy hair hung loose and flowed down over her shoulders. A pair of sunglasses sat atop her head like a hair band. Her face was lightly made up and her reading glasses were nowhere in sight. A sheer tan cardigan covered her arms while beneath was a lacy white tank top. She looked so stunning that all of the villagers would be too busy trying to figure out if she was a movie star to take any notice of him.
“Is everything all right with the suite?” She stopped next to him.
He swallowed hard and glanced away, telling himself to relax. This was still the same Kayla that he’d been working closely with for weeks. He gazed at her again, trying to see her as the levelheaded assistant that he’d come to rely on. Spending the day with her, leisurely strolling about was going to be a struggle. He just had to keep in mind that they had a mission to accomplish—a royal wedding to brainstorm.
“Angelo?” She sent him a concerned look.
“Um...sorry. Yes, the suite is ours for the duration.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s good. You had me worried for a moment there.”
“Nothing at all to worry about. Are you ready for your grand tour?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I am. I’m really looking forward to it.”
Without thinking, he extended his arm to her. Surprise lit up her eyes but in a blink it was gone. She slipped her arm in his. He didn’t know why he’d made the gesture. It just felt right. So much for the promise he’d made himself to remain professional around her. They hadn’t even left the hotel and he was already treating her like...like... Oh, whatever.
Angelo led her out of the hotel into the sunshiny afternoon. He had to admit that it was nice to get away from the stress of the wedding pitch. The whole project had ground to a complete halt. He sure hoped this outing would refill his creative well. If nothing else, maybe it would help him relax so he could start brainstorming again.
He glanced over to find Kayla taking in their surroundings. “I thought we would walk since the village isn’t far from here.”
“Sounds fine by me. I’ve been cooped up in the hotel long enough. Back in New York, I’m used to doing a lot of walking.”
“Really. Where do you walk?” He didn’t know why but he was truly interested.
“I walk to the subway and then to the office. Sometimes, if the weather is right, I will duck out at lunch and stretch my legs.”
“So you truly like to walk.”
She nodded. “It sure beats eating like a bird. If you hadn’t noticed, I do enjoy food.” She rubbed her flat abs. “Especially pasta.”
“Would you like to try some of the best Italian food in the region?”
“Definitely.”
“Good. From what I’ve heard, you should be impressed with the restaurant I’ve chosen.”
“Is it far from here?”
“Not at all. In fact, it’s right here in Monte Calanetti. We have reservations for tomorrow night.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Good. Consider it a date.”
When her fine brows rose and her eyes glittered with unspoken questions, he realized he’d blundered. But he didn’t take back the words. He liked the thought of having a friendly date with her.
They walked a bit before Kayla spoke. “What’s it called?”
“Mancini’s. It’s an exclusive IGF-starred restaurant on the outskirts of the village. The chef is a friend of my brother’s.”
“This friend of your brother’s, is he from around here?”
“Yes, he grew up here. After Raffaele achieved international success with his cooking, he returned to open his own restaurant. I suspect he was anxious to try running his own place, but I’m surprised he didn’t start his business in one of the cities like Rome or Milan.”
“Perhaps he just wanted to be home again. Have you really never considered moving back here?”
Angelo gave a firm shake of head. “Not even once.”
“Don’t you like it here?”
“It...it has a lot of memories. Not all of them good ones.”
Angelo remembered how he’d been turned away from his home and told not to return. The buried memories came flooding back to him. The loud arguments between his parents. His brother and sister upset. And then there was the last time he came to his mother’s defense. He’d experienced many a row with his father before that life-altering one—the one where his father threw him out of the house, telling him that he was old enough to make it on his own.
When Angelo had turned a pleading stare to his mother, she’d told him that he was a smart, strong young man and that it was time to make his way in life. That was when he’d had no choice but to follow his dreams. With the aid of his inheritance from his grandfather combined with his meager savings, he’d set out for New York.
Though he hated to leave his brother and sister, he didn’t have a choice. His father was a stubborn man who wouldn’t back down from an argument. And Angelo wasn’t about to live any longer with his parents and their dysfunctional relationship. In fact, he hadn’t even come back to Monte Calanetti to visit until his mother and father had moved to Milan. He had no intention of seeing his father again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Kayla’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “What? Um...oh, you didn’t.”
She sent him an I-don’t-believe-you look but said nothing more. They continued toward the village in silence. It felt so strange to be back here—when he’d left all of those years ago, he’d sworn that he’d never return. And he hadn’t for a long time.
The truth was he missed his brother and sister. But he rarely made the journey home. It was too hard. There were too many unsettling memories lurking about, and he just didn’t have the same draw to this place that his brother and sister did. He didn’t understand Nico’s need to cling to their heritage, not when there were so many adventures outside of Monte Calanetti to experience.
“This is beautiful.” Kayla stood at the crumbling rock wall that surrounded the village, which was perched high upon a hill. “What an amazing view. What’s with the wall?”
“The village is centuries old and used to be a stronghold against attacks.”
“I couldn’t imagine there being unrest here. I mean, did you ever see anything so peaceful?” There was a distinct note of awe in Kayla’s voice. “There’s something almost magical about it.”
“I used to think that, too.”
“You did?”
He nodded, recalling days of long ago. “I used to come to this spot when I was a kid.” What he failed to mention is that he came here to get away from his parents’ arguing. “I’d pretend that I was the defender of the kingdom. Many sword battles took place where you’re standing.”
“Really? So you were Sir Lancelot?” She eyed him up as though imagining him in a coat of armor.
He was no knight—not even close to it. He’d just been a kid trying to escape the battlefield between his parents, but he didn’t want to get into any of that. A gentle breeze rushed past them and he willed it to sweep away the unsettling memories. He didn’t want the past to ruin this day.
“Look.” She pointed to a flock of little birds as they took flight. They soared up into the sky, circled and swooped low before rising again. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
He was never a bird-watcher, but he had to admire the symmetry of their movements. He couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d been missing. His gaze strayed back to Kayla. How had he missed noticing how amazing she was both inside and out?
“And listen.”
He did as she asked. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly! There’s nothing but the rustle of the leaves. It’s so freeing.”
Now that he could agree on. He’d been searching for quietness like this ever since he’d moved to New York, but he’d never been able to find it—until now. “It clears the mind.”
“Good. We want clear heads when we tour Monte Calanetti.” She turned and pointed off in the distance. “I just love the rows of grapevines. I wonder how they get the lines so straight.”
“I’m betting if you were to ask Nico that he’d tell you anything you want to know about running a vineyard. He’s very proud of his work.”
“You mean all of that is Nico’s land?”
Angelo nodded. “It has been passed down through the family. When my father couldn’t make a go of it, they passed the land down to us kids. I was already working in New York and Marianna was too young, so Nico stepped up. He’s worked really hard to rebuild the vineyard and make a name for the wine.”
“Hardworking must be a trait of the Amatucci men.”
“Some of them anyhow.” His father wasn’t big on work, which was evident by the poor condition of the vineyard when he’d handed it over to his children. “Come on. I thought you wanted to see Monte Calanetti.”
“I do.”
With Kayla’s hand still tucked in the crook of his arm, Angelo took comfort in having her next to him. This was his first stroll through the village since that dreadful day when his father cast him out of their family home. These days when he returned to Italy, he either stayed in the city or at the villa. He just wasn’t up for the curious stares or worse the questions about why he left.
As they strolled through the village, Angelo warned himself not to get too comfortable with Kayla. Soon this vacation illusion would end, and they’d be back in New York, where he’d transform back into Mr. Amatucci and she’d once again be Ms. Hill. Everything would once again be as it should.
