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A Billionaire For Lexi: Holiday Novella (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 3.5)

Page 14

by Ruth Cardello


  Ricco laughed and slapped Vincent on the back as though they were old friends. “My daughter has jokes this morning. I’ve tried to get her into the kitchen since she was a child. Couldn’t even drag her in here. You come along, and she walks in all smiles and bright eyes. Chef Moretti, I believe I’m beginning to feel ill again; maybe I should go back home.”

  “Dad!” She couldn’t believe he was so blatantly doing this. What was Vincent going to think? That her father was pushing her to him? Normally her father was nothing but professional in the kitchen. This was a side of him she wasn’t used to seeing. It was nice to see him so light-hearted, but Vincent was an off-limits topic. “Vin—I mean Chef Moretti is a guest here, not part of the staff. And you look fine to me.” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so sharp, it wasn’t meant for her father as much as for Vincent, who was standing by him grinning as though everything was going according to his plan.

  “Chef Gallo, I believe your daughter is trying to say she learns best with private lessons.” Vincent never took his eyes off her as he spoke, and all she could do was remember that sizzling kiss. I’ve learned I want you, but still, have no idea what you put in that cake. And I truly don’t care either.

  A mirror wasn’t necessary to know her face went from pink to red. Her father should be appalled that Vincent was speaking so flirtatiously, but somehow he seemed fine with it. Who are you? You’ve never liked anyone around me. Why now? Why him? Don’t you know he’s leaving, and if I don’t stop this now, it’s only going to break my heart later?

  “How about tomorrow morning, Chef Moretti, before you leave? After brunch is served, the kitchen will be all yours.”

  She gave Vincent a look that said he best not agree, but he didn’t heed her warning.

  “It’s a date.” Vincent turned his back to her and continued whatever he’d been doing before she came in and interrupted.

  She lowered her voice, hoping the others wouldn’t hear. “Dad, I don’t need or want any lessons.”

  Ricco stood there shaking his head. “Oh, my Nita. What am I going to do with you, child?” He waved her away with his hand. “Go to your dining room and make sure it sparkles. More guests have arrived since they opened the roads. Although not all could make it, it must still be spectacular, and with Chef Moretti cooking with me, it shall be.”

  Renita nodded and left the kitchen quickly before anything else was said. More guests? How could I have forgotten to check on the latest count? Oh, that’s right, because my head hasn’t been attached to my body since my little cooking lesson yesterday. I can still feel his tongue licking my arm. God, I wanted to put ingredients all over myself so it’d never end.

  The truth was, it didn’t matter if it ended tomorrow or a month from now. It was going to end and the sooner, the better. She wouldn’t care if he left right now without even saying goodbye.

  Renita stopped in her tracks and looked back toward the kitchen. Part of her wanted to tell him she wanted private lessons today, tomorrow, and always. That was more foolish than taking him skiing. No one ever accused her of acting foolish before. She shouldn’t start now. Vincent, I hate to do it, but there is no way I’m keeping our date tomorrow. It’s hard enough now. I’m going home as soon as the event is over. I feel the flu coming on, and I’m calling out of work in the morning.

  She’d never called out of work before and sure as heck never lied about it. But desperate times called for leaving her comfort zone. With how sick her father had been, no one would question if it was true or not. Yup. Out sick for sure. I just hope I don’t really get the flu, because I’m not sure avoiding Vincent is worth influenza.

  “My daughter is . . . difficult at times. She is stubborn,” Ricco said as he and Vincent continued cooking.

  She’s vivacious, stunning, funny, smart, sexy, and tempting as all hell. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Chef Moretti, you are too kind.”

  “Please call me Vincent.”

  “Vincent, my daughter worries too much about me. Since my wife died many years ago, she had taken it on herself to make sure I’m all right. At times I believe she’s forgotten who the parent is.”

  “I see she loves and respects you very much.” It was another thing he liked about her.

  “Do you like my daughter?”

  He wasn’t prepared for that question and had no way to answer. It wasn’t something he ever thought he would discuss with Ricco. He was attracted to her, and enjoyed her company more than he’d enjoyed anyone’s in a long time. Not since his first love many years before. This man wasn’t one of his friends asking out of curiosity. This was Renita’s father. How he answered was crucial. Thinking about the right answer wasn’t going to happen, so he spoke directly from his heart. And that scared the shit out of him.

  “She’s a special woman.” Very special.

  “Renita does not belong here, Vincent. I see a look in her eyes that was not there a few days ago. I know she has dreams, although she won’t tell me what they are.” Ricco stopped working on what he was cutting and was staring into Vincent’s eyes. “She’s told you, hasn’t she?”

  “We’ve spoken.” He didn’t want to give any information Renita wasn’t prepared to share herself.

  “Very interesting. Can you tell me what you spoke about?”

  Vincent shook his head. “Not my place. But I believe if you asked her, she would tell you.”

  “You may be right. That wasn’t the case before, but something has changed within her. I think it has to do with you. I saw the look in her eyes when she looked at you. I approve of that. I have a lot of admiration for you. But this is my daughter. If you are serious about her, you’ll have my blessing. But I warn you to be very careful and not play with her heart. I don’t care who you are, I’ll not sit by and let you hurt her.”

  Wow, Ricco. Way too fast. I’m only here on vacation. I like her, she amazing, but I’m not what she needs. “Mr. Gallo—”

  “Ricco.”

  “Ricco, I’m only here for the event.” Not a lifetime.

  “My point exactly,” Ricco stated firmly. “Vincent, you’re burning the glaze,” he added as he pulled the pan from the fire.

  He’d never been so distracted before. “Maybe we need to change the subject for now.”

  “Yes. No more talk of my daughter in the kitchen. We have hungry people out there, and I don’t want them thinking I’m the one sending out burned sauces and unseasoned eggs.” Ricco didn’t try to hide his laughter one bit.

  Vincent couldn’t help but join in. No chef had spoken to him like that in years. They all feared if they did, it’d blow any opportunity to ever work for him. If he hadn’t just witnessed Ricco’s skill, he would’ve thought Lena and Brice really had sent him here to meet up with Renita. But even Brice couldn’t pull off a major snow and ice storm or give Ricco the flu.

  So now he was left with a dilemma. Did he approach Ricco with one of the main reasons why he was here in the first place? The fundraiser was a wonderful cause to support, but he could’ve sent a large donation check without making the trip here. This probably wasn’t the right time for telling Ricco he was here to talk him into leaving the resort and working for him. Of course if he pursued things with Renita, that only added to the challenge because he never mixed business with pleasure, and Renita was definitely someone he enjoyed. This entire thing was quickly becoming a quandary.

  This is business, Vincent. The one and only thing that matters to you. Don’t let your desire for a spicy sweet Italian woman make you forget that.

  “Ricco, there is something I would like to discuss with you, if you’re free later.”

  “My daughter?”

  That’s one subject I don’t want to talk about. Not with you or with your daughter, yet. “This proposition is for you.” He kept his voice low as not to let other staff overhear. He had no issue with them knowing he’d like to steal Gallo away from this resort, but he wasn’t sure how Gallo felt. Normally he didn’t care. Is
it this place or this family that has me being less of an asshole than normal?

  “Then I suggest we talk tomorrow after your lesson with my daughter.”

  Vincent wanted to tell him he already knew Renita was going to blow off that date. It was written all over her face. Although she smiled, her eyes said goodbye. And he hated it. Why? He didn’t know yet. But by God, he hated it.

  Chapter Six

  Renita was glad she’d avoided seeing Vincent before the event. Her father was right; she needed to make this glamorous. Mrs. Barrington was expecting elegant, and Renita believed she pulled it off.

  As she made her way around the room, she overheard someone say Mrs. Barrington had something special planned that hadn’t been announced to the guests. She had to admit it piqued her interest, but she didn’t need to worry about such things as she’d be attending this black-tie event, but only as staff. Good thing, because I have no idea what I’d have worn if I’d been invited.

  It was surprising how many more people were able to make it, even though it had snowed very hard earlier. She thought for sure the roads would be closed again, but they remained open. One thing about Vermont was that weather could change in a blink of an eye.

  Now standing away from everyone she took in the entire picture. Everyone was dressed elegantly and appeared to be having a great time.

  What was once a rustic look now screamed romantic. White flowers entwined with branches and crystal teardrop globes with white candles burning inside hung above the long dining tables. The tables had matching flowers in beautiful vases, but each place setting had a long stemmed crystal candle holder, and the lights had been turned low to set the mood. From what she’d been hearing, her efforts hadn’t gone unnoticed. She had done her best, and all she could do now was hope it was enough to get the resort noticed in a positive light.

  Renita tried to focus on her staff, making sure they were as attentive as possible, and she tried to anticipate each guest’s needs. There was one her eyes continued to find, no matter how hard she tried otherwise.

  Vincent looked stunning in his tuxedo. Although they never made eye contact, she could tell he knew she was watching him as he was her. She couldn’t understand why. There were so many beautiful women, and yet she continued to feel his eyes on her.

  At one point Renita saw Clay Landon and Lexi Chamber, the couple who was supposed to be in charge of making sure all was in order, look as if they sipped too much champagne to be in charge of anything. She held her breath, as she watched what looked like a train wreck in the making, as they approached Vincent.

  Clay and Lexi didn’t seem to take whatever Vincent was saying seriously, which was no shock. She wished she could hear their exchange because all she saw was Vincent shake his head and walk away.

  “Nita, you did a lovely job,” Ricco said as he stepped away from the kitchen long enough to check on the guest’s reaction to his cooking.

  She rested her head on her father’s shoulder and said, “I hope Mr. Prescott thinks so when he gets feedback.”

  “You worry too much about what he’d think. When I am in the kitchen, I don’t think about if he’d like the food. My thoughts are only on doing my best, and therefore I put out only something that’s pleasing to me. I’ve no control if they’ll enjoy it or not. You need to start looking at life that way.”

  She’d always done things in the way that others would want. Working at the resort was something she’d done for her father. The fact that she did her job well, didn’t mean it was what she was passionate about. I’m not sure if I will be good at being a teacher. I want it, and I’ve been working toward it, but who knows; maybe I’ll be a horrible teacher just like I’m a terrible cook.

  “Things don’t always turn out how we plan.”

  “Nita, you need to live your life. Not mine. Do you think when I left Italy and came to the United States I didn’t miss my family back home? Of course, I did. But I needed to do as my heart desired. I could’ve stayed and worked in the bakery back home with my papa, but it was not my dream. Just like being here, Nita, is not yours.”

  “Where do I even begin?” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud as it was a question she’d been internalizing for some time.

  “Follow your heart. It knows the way.”

  Well then I’m in trouble, because my heart is torn in several directions right now. “I’ll try that.”

  “You seem to like Vincent.”

  She looked for him in the crowd. Somehow her eyes always found him easily. “Yes.” Denying it was useless, and she knew it.

  “You must trust him very much if you shared your dreams with him.”

  She lifted her head and shot him a puzzled look. “He told you?”

  “I asked but he wouldn’t betray your trust. He’s a good man. They are hard to come by. If you like him, tell him. Sometimes we men are so smart we are stupid, and we need things said clearly.”

  “He’s been kind. Very helpful. That’s all, nothing more. We just met a few days ago, and he’s leaving tomorrow. After that, we’ll never see each other again.” It was painful to think it, never mind say it. Whatever her father was seeing wasn’t going anywhere. It would pass. It better because it’s going to hurt like hell if it doesn’t. Nothing is worse than loving someone who doesn’t love you.

  “Oh, my sweet Nita. If your mother was alive, she would be the one to guide you on the ways of the heart instead of this old man. But I love you and want you to be happy and enjoy your life.”

  “I do, Dad.”

  “Do you remember me telling you how I met your mother?”

  Renita nodded, but she loved hearing any stories about her mother.

  “I knew the moment I met your mother. She walked into my father’s bakery, and I heard her voice from the back. She sounded like an angel, and I had to stop what I was doing and find out who it was. From that day forward, she came to the bakery at the same time each day until I asked her to marry me.”

  She saw a look in his eyes that was filled with joy and sorrow at the same time. Renita knew how much he missed her mother. This is exactly why I can’t leave you, Dad. I don’t want you all alone.

  “You better make sure the champagne glasses are full, because it’s almost midnight.”

  Ricco gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Happy New Year, Nita.”

  “Happy New Year, Dad.”

  She called over two of the waiters, gave them instructions, and did one last walk through. The countdown was about to start.

  She walked over to the large window that overlooked part of a mountain that was not used for skiing. However, it was an amazing sight. There was a full moon, and the stars were shining brightly. Leave here? Why? So both Dad and I can be alone? It makes no sense. I’ll go when I have had time to adequately plan.

  A shooting star came over the mountain, and she closed her eyes. It may be a childhood game, but one day she hoped one of her wishes would come true.

  “Ten. Nine. Eight.” Renita didn’t need to turn to see the crowd or watch the ball drop at midnight. The room was reflected in the glass of the window if she watched at an angle. She scanned the images and for the first time she couldn’t see Vincent. Her father appeared out of the kitchen again, and this time the rest of the staff was with him. It was a tradition that all staff members rang in the New Year and celebrated, if only for a few minutes.

  Dad? Maria? Her father hadn’t mentioned Maria was at the resort. Probably just checking on him like I asked. You’re a good woman.

  “Three. Two. One. Happy New Year!” Gold and white balloons dropped from the ceiling, and she could hear all kinds of noisemakers going off.

  As she looked again at her father, she was taken totally by surprise. He’d pulled Maria into his arms and was kissing her. Not a quick happy New Year peck either. It was a lip-locking, you’re my gal, type of kiss. Well, what do you know? Guess I don’t have to worry about you any longer do I, Dad? It would’ve been simpler to tell me instead of trying to p
ush me onto Vincent.

  She hadn’t heard him approach but only felt his arm come from behind her and turn her toward him. As she looked up into Vincent’s brown eyes, he said, “Happy New Year, Renita.”

  His lips claimed hers. Light and tenderly, but not ending. The noise in the background was drowned out. Nothing at that moment mattered to her except Vincent. She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, but she was falling in love with him.

  At that very moment, Renita had made her choice: to enjoy what time she could have with him, even if tonight was all she’d ever get. Denying her feelings was causing her just as much pain as embracing them then watching him leave.

  Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. She was going to give him everything she had. Let him feel what she was feeling. Tomorrow is another day, but at least, I’ll always have tonight to remember.

  Vincent had been watching Renita all night. People continued to come up to him to talk business or investment opportunities. He hadn’t cared about anything tonight, except for it to come to an end so he could steal her away and have her in his arms.

  Once that clock hit midnight, he knew exactly where he wanted to be. Holding Renita.

  When she pulled him down to her, he thought he’d lose his mind, but they were standing in a room filled with people. Her father being one of them. Although he didn’t want to stop kissing her, he needed to before it became something she’d regret later.

  “Renita, I—”

  “Vincent, please. . .” Her voice was soft and full of need.

  The little control he’d had was lost. She needed him, wanted him, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he felt the same. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “But the party isn’t over.”

  He didn’t care about the party or what anyone was going to think. Maybe her father. He looked over to where he’d seen Ricco standing earlier. He was watching them. The look on his face wasn’t one Vincent could read, but he’d guess it was one of concern. I’m not the type of man I’d want for my daughter either. And Renita deserves so much better than me. Someone who’ll be with her tomorrow.

 

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