A young woman standing at the hostess counter greeted me with a sweet, welcoming smile. She wore a long, dark blue skirt paired with a lacy white blouse with a scalloped collar. Her hair was pulled up and twisted into an attractive bun in the back. She appeared very classy and gave me the impression that the restaurant was a bit more upscale than I’d originally thought.
“Hello, just one?” she asked. I hated when they added the “just” to that question. Why, yes, just one lonely, pathetic woman eating all alone with no one to have a fun conversation with. I’d have to fix that. By the end of the week, this young woman would never say “just one” to another customer again. Male or female. It would be “Hello. How may I help you?” Or “Do you have a reservation? How many in your party?” Never, ever would they ask, “Just one?” making that person feel insignificant and unloved.
“Yes.” I had a momentary thought of just leaving it at that and not telling her there was a table reserved for me, but then that was no way to start out this new adventure, so I added, “I believe there is a reservation for me.”
“Your name?”
“Grace Davidson.”
“Oh, yes. Nice to meet you.” Her smiled broadened, and she turned to grab a menu. “I have a table for you, Ms. Davidson, right this way.”
“Grace is fine.”
She smiled. “Grace, then. Follow me, please.”
She led me to a small table by the window. The ocean view was amazing. The sun wouldn’t be setting for another couple of hours, but I bet it would be sensational. I sat down, and she handed me the menu.
“The special tonight is poached salmon over rice pilaf with a white wine reduction sauce and pine nuts. The soup tonight is creamy asparagus. The waiter will be over shortly. Enjoy your meal.” She smiled and walked back to her hostess perch by the door just in time to greet a young couple for seating. She was my age, pretty, polite, and I thought that maybe she’d be someone I could become friends with.
I studied the menu, not wanting to look around and seem like I was observing the place. I jumped, a bit startled as the deep voice of a man approached my table, “You got the best table in the place.” I looked up, and our eyes met. Both his and mine widened with surprise.
“Grace?”
“Leo? Oh, my. You’re…you’re here? What…” I glanced around. “You live around here?”
“Yeah,” he admitted as he set down a basket filled with bread and butter. “I never thought I’d see you again.” His smile illuminated his face. That sexy grin was one of the things I’d loved looking at on the island, especially with the sun shining down on his cheeks.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again either. Oh, forgive me. Please, sit.” I gestured to the chair across from me, and he sat down. Then I saw it. The half apron around his waist. The way he’d been able to juggle two plates in one hand at the restaurant in Bora Bora came to mind. “You’re a waiter here?”
He opened his mouth to speak but shut it as Mr. D’Amoré approached. I thought Leo would have jumped up. Being caught sitting with one of the customers while on duty would have earned my employees a good talking to.
“Oh, good, Leo,” Mister D’Amoré’s cheerful voice flowed over us, and he placed his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I see you’ve met Grace, our new manager.” A broad smile ignited his face as he peered at me over his glasses.
Leo’s eyes widened, and he looked at me. “You’re the new manager?” He appeared to be just as shocked as I was that he was here at the same time I was.
I nodded. How could this be? Had Leo made all that marine biologist stuff up? Was he really just a waiter at a seaside inn and restaurant? And…oh no, I would be his boss. I didn’t think I could do this.
“You two have met before?” Mr. D’Amoré asked with a glint in his eye.
“Yeah, you might say that,” Leo said with a silly grin.
“You’ll have to fill me in later, Leo.” Then Mr. D’Amoré looked at me. “I apologize. My son never mentioned that he knew you.”
“Your son?” I glanced from Mr. D’Amoré back to Leo.
“I didn’t know it was this Grace that you hired, Dad.”
“Yes, I told you. Grace Davidson.”
“Yes, but…” Leo shook his head, our gazes met once again, both of us a bit dumbstruck. Leo’s father’s presence seemed to fade away as if he weren’t there; as if nothing but his empty shell of a body stood by our table and it was only the two of us in the entire universe. “You never told me your last name,” Leo uttered very softly.
“Nor did you tell me yours.”
Chapter Ten
Leo
“Yes, well, Leonardo D’Amoré sounds a bit too formal when introducing myself to a beautiful woman, not to mention one whom I never thought to see again.”
“Actually, he’s the fourth in line,” my father interrupted. I’d forgotten he was still standing there.
I frowned. “I’ve always found the whole ‘Leonardo D’Amoré the fourth’ rather stiff sounding and hardly ever use it.”
“Humph. I always thought it sounded distinguished,” my father piped up again.
I leaned back in the chair and stared at Grace. The Grace I’d wished I could have made mine. “So, what are the chances?” I mumbled. Grace was here. I thought I’d never see her again. What a tragedy that would have been. But here she was. She was so pretty sitting here with her long, brown hair swept up. The same way she’d worn it so many times in Bora Bora, showing off her delicious, kissable neck. I’d dreamt of running my fingers through her updo to unfasten whatever it was that held her long waves in place so the silky strands could flow over my hands and down her shoulders. We’d kept things so distant, so platonic on the island. Keeping our friendship that way seemed to be the best bet, so no one got hurt. I’d regretted that for weeks after I left. I’d never even kissed her. That old Alfred Lord Tennyson quote, “'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” burrowed in my brain, and I’d been so downhearted about it, so disappointed in myself for not pursuing her just a bit harder. She’d been so adamant about not wanting to start something we knew we couldn’t finish. I couldn’t blame her, though, not after what she’d been through. She wasn’t the type to have sexual flings with strangers. I had to respect that. And she’d been running from a failed marriage. Or celebrating it by going on the honeymoon by herself, which was how I’d interpreted it.
“I don’t know. We never discussed our lives back home. Not really. I had no idea where you lived,” she supplied.
“Right.” I nodded. We hadn’t wanted to complicate things. I glanced over at my father, who still stood at the side of the table, scratching his head in wonderment. “Dad. Grace and I met in Bora Bora a few weeks ago when I went there researching the jellyfish.”
My dad smiled, nodding his head in understanding. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. “Ah. I see.”
I knew what he was thinking. Grace’s face heated with unwarranted chagrin as she too realized what he thought. “No. No. You don’t.” I didn’t want Grace to feel uncomfortable, realizing that she was sitting there addressing her new boss; though I was positive my dad would have jumped for joy to think we’d had some sort of relationship. He’d been hinting about my lack of a girlfriend for years. But I didn’t want Grace to pick up on that, however much I might want something more with her. “We became friends.” Platonic friends, I mused as my eyes traveled back to Grace. “Good friends.” I smiled.
Her lips curved up a bit. “It’s so nice to see you again, Leo.”
“And you.”
“Better take her order, son, before the kitchen closes up for the night. Since you’re already acquainted, you can take her on a tour after dinner and get her familiar with the place. Grace, come to my office at nine tomorrow morning, and I’ll give you the official tour, and we’ll go over procedures and all the other particulars.” He strolled away then, leaving us alone.
It was still early in the evening.
My dad’s sarcasm hadn’t escaped me. The kitchen wasn’t closing for at least two more hours. I glanced down at my black apron. “I fill in here when I can on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”
“Right. The days most of the staff is off.”
“He told you.”
She nodded. I couldn’t stop staring at her gorgeous, golden brown eyes. In fact, our gazes seemed locked on each other’s, and it was hard to tear mine away, but I managed to take in those luscious lips and her sun-kissed cheeks as she held the menu in her hands until I remembered that she was there to eat.
“The salmon is pretty yummy,” I supplied, and she looked down at the menu as though it had just appeared in her hands out of the blue.
“Okay. Could I have a small salad instead of the rice?”
“Sure. I think the cook can handle that. I, uh…” I stood. “I should get to the other customers.” She glanced around at the nearly empty dining room. Her presence here, in my family’s restaurant, managing my family’s inn stirred me, and I needed to step away, regroup or whatever the fuck. I just needed to take a minute to process it all. What are the chances? I repeated to myself. “I’ll put in your order. And I’ll be right back with some soup.”
“I didn’t order any soup.”
“I know. But this soup is to die for, and I know you’re going to love it.”
I hurried to the kitchen, my breathing heavy and labored as though I’d been running. I felt my face flush with heat and leaned against the wall, my head back, my eyes closed. The shock of seeing Grace again had me thinking all sorts of things.
“What’s wrong? Did you see a ghost?”
“Huh?” I looked up to see the chef, Oscar, a small smirk on his round face.
“You look like you just saw a ghost, man. What’s up?”
“Oh. Nothing. Just an old friend.” No, new friend, I corrected myself. A friend I wanted more than just friendship with.
“By the way you look, I hope she feels the same way.” He chuckled as though he’d read my mind and then went back to chopping whatever it was he’d been preparing.
I headed to the bar and studied a couple of the bottles of wine, debating over the pinot noir or the chardonnay. Since the salmon was poached and not grilled, I grabbed the bottle of chard. Its rich, buttery flavor would go well with both the soup and the salmon. I poured a generous glass and placed it on a tray. I ladled some of the soup into a cup and dropped a small dollop of sour cream in the center along with a sprig of parsley on top and headed back to Grace.
She sat, gazing out the window, and I set the glass of wine down. “You didn’t order it, but this chardonnay should pair well with the salmon.” I smiled and set the soup in front of her.
“Thank you. I appreciate your attention to detail.”
“It’s the little things in the restaurant business that matter, as I’m sure you know, being an experienced hotel and restaurant manager. Which I’m only assuming since they’re the qualifications for this job.” It was another thing we’d never discussed. Damn. I sounded angry. In a way, I was. Why had we left so much about each other undiscovered? There were so many things about this woman that I’d never taken the time to learn. Well, she was here now. And maybe I’d have a second chance.
“There are a lot of things we left to the imagination, Leo.”
“Right.” A big mistake. I couldn’t stop the thought from entering my head.
“Well, I’ll let you eat your soup. I’ll be back in a few minutes with the salmon.” I just needed to walk away before I said or did something stupid. Like grabbing her from her seat and wrapping my arms around her, running my hand over her shoulder and down to the small of her back as I took the nape of her neck in my other palm and kissed the fucking life out of her. It was a miracle that she didn’t sense my desires just then and run for her room because it felt as if they were exploding from every pore of my skin.
I stood in the kitchen, peeking out at her every few minutes. I felt like a peeping Tom. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. To say I was elated to see her was an understatement. It had been difficult in Bora Bora. It would be impossible now. There was no denying it.
“Just friends, Leo?” my father hissed in my ear. “Based on what I’m sensing from you—and maybe even from her—things may have been a bit more heated than either of you want to admit.”
I glanced at him. “We never went down that road. She’d just been married a few days earlier, but she ran out on him after discovering the asshole banging her maid of honor just a few short hours after the ceremony. She was hurting. It wasn’t a good time.” As I explained that to my dad, I realized that had been it the whole time. I’d wanted her then, sure. But I didn’t like the idea of being a substitute groom. A replacement, filling a role I had no intention of living up to. Rebound love affairs were cliché, of course, and they all shared a common element; a sure path to failure. Something I couldn’t disagree with. I just didn’t want to be that guy.
Chapter Eleven
Grace
I picked up the glass of wine and sipped. No, correction, I gulped half of it down. My hand shook as I placed it back on the table. I’d never thought to set eyes on Leo again. Imagine…Leonardo D’Amoré the fourth. His father had never given me his first name. Even if he had, I never would have put two and two together. Over the past two months, I’d been mourning my time spent with Leo, wishing it could have been something more than it was. He had to have sensed it. But he was a gentleman, respecting my situation, my fragile emotions, never once making a pass at me.
I picked up the wine again, sipping a bit slower this time. I should try to eat; otherwise, this wine would go straight to my head. My legs would be wobbly enough as it was, considering the shock of seeing Leo. I tasted the soup. It was creamy, a hint of spice with the perfect amount of asparagus flavor. Leo was right. This soup was killer. I just wished I could get the butterflies to settle in my stomach to enjoy the meal. I’d already finished the wine, and Leo had brought me another glass. When he’d set it down in front of me, he grinned. “I’ve been secretly sharing the bottle with you in the kitchen.” He put his finger over his lips. “Shhh…don’t tell.” He winked and walked away. I smiled.
I managed to finish the soup, but I found myself nibbling at the salmon, only eating about a third of it before my stomach became too full, or rather full of excited tension from the prospect of spending time with Leo. Spending more time with him was something I’d only dreamt about since he left me on the island. But, I had to remember, this was business. Here I was, worried about him working for me, but in reality, I would be working for him. Indirectly, but still.
There were several more small groups of patrons that had entered the restaurant over the past hour, and I was glad to see it. The food was fantastic so far, and I didn’t think there was room for much improvement in that area but I couldn’t wait to put some of my own touches into the establishment. Though I knew things wouldn’t change overnight, and I’d need to tread lightly and with diplomacy. The vibes I’d picked up from the hostess earlier were encouraging. And now that Leo was here, I knew how much I wanted to pursue that personal relationship, but I worried about the possibility of him or his father showing favoritism toward me over any of the other employees. I’d need to tread carefully there, as well, especially since I didn’t know how large of a role Leo actually played in the family business. His father had indicated that he didn’t want much to do with it, but yet, here Leo was, putting in his time when the restaurant needed him. My heart tightened in my chest at the love he must have for his father to be there for him no matter what direction his heart leaned.
When I finished eating, a young man came over and took my plate. I sat, nursing the second glass of wine when Leo came and sat across from me with his own glass partially full, and his waiter’s apron gone. “I think we should start over,” he suggested.
“How’s that?”
“Hi. I’m Leonardo D’Amoré the fourth. Son of the astute, Leonardo
D’Amoré the third, owner of the famous D’Amoré Inn established in 1869. The place to come to relax and unwind.” Spoken straight from the brochure. I laughed as he stuck his hand out for mine.
I placed my hand in his. “I’m Grace Davidson. It’s very nice to meet you, Leo.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said and lifted my fingers to his lips, brushing them lightly over my knuckles. My heart fluttered, and I placed my free hand on my chest just to make sure it didn’t pop out. Leo smiled and then took a sip of his wine. When he’d set it down, he stood, tugging me up with him, still grasping my hand in his. “Let’s take a walk. The sun is about to set.”
We walked toward the door and past the hostess. “Kate, I’m heading out. I trust you can lock up?”
“Of course.” She glanced at me and then she looked back to Leo. “I’m sure I can manage.” Her voice sounded very certain and competent. “Oh, Grace, let me know if there’s anything I can help you with. I’ve lived here my entire life. If there’s anything you need to know, just ask.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Kate also manages the library,” Leo added. “And she knows the best places to shop. But be careful, she’ll have you buying things you don’t really need.”
“I heard that,” Kate said, laughing. “You’re just still sore about that petrified turtle egg I talked you into when we were kids.”
“Right. You said it would make a great paperweight.”
“Was I wrong?”
“No. But I didn’t need a paperweight when I was eleven.”
“But you do now.”
“You got me there.” Leo chuckled. Their familiarity with each other had me curious about how well they knew one another. I looked up at the sky as we headed out the door, wondering if there was something more to Leo and Kate than they let on.
Broken Wide Open: A Stand-Alone Romance Page 8