“You see what you do to me?”
“I…don’t know what to say.” I wanted to say I’d been dreaming about him, too. I wanted him to do everything he’d just described. But where would that leave me and this job?
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, Grace. I’ve been kicking myself for the past two months for not getting your number or finding out where you lived. And now, you just pop up here out of the blue. You can’t tell me this is just coincidence.”
Did he think I’d planned this? Oh, no. “You think I knew you lived here? How could I? I didn’t even know your last name?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying…let’s give this a chance. Us. There must be a reason we met in Bora Bora. And now a reason you’re here. Whether it’s fate or the way the stars are aligned, or whatever the fuck, I don’t care. But you’re here, I’m here, and damn, woman, I want you so fucking bad.”
I opened my eyes to a bright morning sun as warm rays filtered into the room. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. I still had half an hour before the alarm was due to go off but I couldn’t go back to sleep. I shoved back the covers and sat up. My first thought was of Leo. I’d had a fitful night’s sleep, thinking about everything: the job, Leo—not to mention how to deal with disgruntled employees if they ever found out. That was if I ever gave in to Leo.
The way he and I had left things last night hadn’t exactly solved anything. As much as I wanted him, I knew we needed to keep our relationship platonic as long as I worked there, which I hoped would be a long time. After he’d successfully managed to get me completely hot and undone by telling me what he wanted to do to me and how much he wanted me, he’d left my room, stating that he’d respect my wishes and give me space, at least for the time being. What did that mean? But he also said that he wasn’t giving up on his attempts to convince me that we needed to give us a try.
I insisted that there was no us.
He said he’d give me some time to think about things, and that he was confident I’d eventually come around to his way of thinking. And that’s exactly what I did as I showered and dressed for my first day as the new manager of the D’Amoré Inn and Restaurant. I thought about Leo and how to avoid him if I was to have any success in my attempts to not fall harder for him. I’d throw myself into my work. I’d ignore Leo’s sexy gait, his sexy mouth, his sexy…everything. God, this was going to be impossible. Things had been so much easier in Bora Bora when I’d thought I would never see him again.
I walked into the main lobby a little before nine. Nine o’clock seemed late for a manager to start the day when a restaurant served breakfast; however, I’d probably be there after closing most nights, so I appreciated the late start. There were several people already eating, but like last night, it wasn’t overly busy.
“Ah. There you are,” Mr. D’Amoré’s friendly voice rang out from the first door of the hallway just behind the hostess counter. “Come on in, Grace.” He stood from his seat and motioned for me to sit on one of the two chairs in front of his desk. He wore a lightweight, short-sleeved, peach-and-white-striped shirt that he’d paired with a pair of loose-fitting brown pants. The color brought out more of the olive tone in his Italian skin. He closed the door and then sank back down in his chair, rubbing his finger over the top of his neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache, then smiled at me before picking up a small stack of papers and handing them to me. “Here are some forms you’ll need to fill out, and I’ll need a copy of your social security card for your file sometime over the next day or so. Whenever you get a chance.” I took the papers and thumbed through them. I sat back in the chair, relaxing a bit to know that I still had a job and that Leo hadn’t mentioned anything about us—or the lack of us—to his father. I had to trust Leo on that, but quite frankly I had no problem trusting him to do the right thing. If there was one thing I’d learned about Leo in Bora Bora, it was that he was an honorable man.
“We’re pretty laid-back here,” Mr. D’Amoré continued as I briefly scanned the paperwork before bringing my attention back to him. “Especially in the middle of the week, in case you haven’t noticed. Mid-week is our slowest time. That’s why I wanted you to get here on a Wednesday. It’ll pick up this afternoon as we are fully booked for the weekend, so by tomorrow, well, it’ll feel like a different restaurant. I’ve given everyone a heads-up that you’ll be the new manager and told them that what you say goes. I trust that Leo showed you the sunset last night?” He winked. “If I had known you and my son knew each other, I would have arranged for him to do this tour, but since I didn’t know until last night, making those arrangements at this late date are difficult with his schedule. But I’m glad he has someone in his life now. I always thought that he and Kate might tie the knot someday since they’d grown up together.”
I tried to hide the shock on my face as he spoke of his son and me as though we were a couple. Had Leo said something, after all? Then with the mention of Kate, my mind became convoluted with doubt and jealousy. I felt my cheeks flush with heat. I wasn’t sure which bothered me more. The idea of Mr. D’Amoré thinking that Leo and I had had some sort of romantic fling in Bora Bora, or the fact that he thought Leo and Kate should have been a couple. Had they ever had any type of relationship? Did they still? It hadn’t seemed that way last night. I felt a headache start above my left eye and I rubbed at it. No matter how much I felt it necessary to crush any and all lustful fantasies about Leo and stay away from him, I didn’t want to think about him being with someone else either. Especially Kate. I’d pegged her as someone I could be friends with.
“Mr. DeAmoré, I don’t—”
“Please, call me Len. Mr. D’Amoré is so formal. Everybody calls me Len.”
“Okay, Len. I don’t know what you think happened between Leo and me in Bora Bora, or even why you’d think something did happen, but I’m not involved with your son in any sort of romantic way, and I’m not planning to become involved with him. I need this job, Mr. D’—I mean, Len, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. Mixing personal relationships with business usually never works out. So please don’t think that I came here with any preconceived notions about your son.”
“Well, okay, then.” He smiled, nodding his head as if pleased with my response, which confused the hell out of me. A minute ago, he’d seemed to want there to be a romance between Leo and me. Did he or did he not condone a relationship between his son and the manager of his establishment? Not that I was planning to have one, but still, a girl could dream. Or did he still secretly want Leo and Kate together?
Len stood. “But, in any case, for this first week, I want you to shadow me. Follow me around, and we’ll get you familiar with everything and everyone. Let’s get started.”
Feeling vulnerable, I cleared my throat and stood, following him out of the office. But he paused and turned back toward me. “Oh, by the way, this is your office.” I glanced around behind me, and for the first time noticed the bare walls and empty desk. Not one knickknack or other decoration adorned the small room. “Feel free to make it your own and decorate it any way you’d like. I’m sure Kate can help you find what you need. Come on, let’s start with the kitchen.”
As we strolled by Kate, it took a lot of effort to squash the vision of Leo kissing her from my mind. I noticed she was wearing black pants paired with a light blue blouse. She looked nice but very casual, much different from last night. I liked that. Making breakfast and lunch more casual and dinner more elegant gave me the distinct feeling of eating in two different restaurants. Plus, the inn had an Italian name, but it didn’t have much of an Italian flair. And then I had a thought.
“When was the last time you made any major changes to the inn and restaurant?” I asked.
“Not for some years now.” Len pivoted toward me. “That brings me to an idea I had. I’d like you to take some time and put together any and all chan
ges you think would help improve D’Amoré’s. At the end of the week, we’ll sit down and discuss them. That sound all right with you?”
I smiled. “Yes. I think that is an excellent plan. I have a lot of great ideas to share.”
By the end of my first week, I’d managed to get a good feel for the flow of the inn and the restaurant. The hardest part of the job was remembering the names of the different suites and the stories behind each one, which were always fascinating but detailed. Each suite had a unique name that depicted some special person and event throughout the history of the area. It was all very interesting but seemed to be lacking something. Luckily, or maybe disappointedly, Leo had made himself scarce all week. I’d only seen him once briefly the entire time. I considered his real job and thought maybe he was gone again, researching some new species.
I’d been introduced to the housecleaning staff as well as the luggage porters and reception clerks for the hotel portion, and all the staff for the restaurant, as well as the three bartenders. There really weren’t that many employees, and I could understand why Len had most of them take their days off during midweek when the inn and restaurant weren’t as busy. I only hoped that I could drum up enough business with some of the suggestions I had swimming around in my head to warrant hiring more employees so that midweek vacancies became a thing of the past, particularly in the summer months. There were two chefs, and after what I’d tasted this past week, I had no problems with either of them, but hiring a few assistants for them wouldn’t hurt.
With my notebook full of suggestions and recommendations in hand, I headed for Len’s office. I only hoped I hadn’t gone overboard with the suggestions. I was nervous. The idea of making some of these recommendations had had me lying awake the last few nights, worrying that they might not be accepted. Len’s door was open, so I knocked on the doorjamb to announce my presence.
“Grace!” His eyes lit up as his warm smile took over his face. “Come in. Please, have a seat.” He was always so friendly. I liked that about him. I sat, and he closed the laptop he’d had his nose to when I knocked, giving me his undivided attention. I liked that, too. “How has the first week been so far?”
“It’s been wonderful. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve given me this opportunity.”
“Well, you come with excellent references. Aside from my son’s high praise. Though, that was only added as reinforcement after the fact. I think we’re damn lucky to have you.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, feeling a bit more at ease, and opened my notebook, turning some pages until I came to my list.
“So, what do you have for me?”
“Well…” I glanced down at my notes. “At first glance, I think D’Amoré’s is a beautiful place to get away to and—”
“Wait. Stop,” he interrupted.
“I’m sorry?”
“Let’s cut out the sugarcoating and get down to your real thoughts,” he said, leaning back in his chair as it squeaked from his weight. He wasn’t fat, but I suspected the chair was old.
I took in a breath of air to calm myself before speaking again. “Okay. I believe the restaurant could use a slight makeover.”
“How?”
“Well, I actually got this idea the first day after noticing how the employees, particularly Kate and the waitstaff, dressed.” His eyebrows rose at the mention of Kate. “Let me explain.”
“By all means.”
“Kate wore casual clothes during the breakfast and lunch hours and changed into something more elegant for the evening. I liked that idea and thought that maybe we could take it a step or two further by adjusting the atmosphere for the evening by changing lighting, adding candles, tablecloths, and other accents, giving the guests a unique ambiance at different mealtimes?”
He rubbed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger but kept silent as I continued. “D’Amoré’s is an Italian inn and restaurant, with an Italian name. However, there’s really not much in the way of anything having to do with Italy. I thought maybe some landscape pictures of Italy in the restaurant, a few famous Italian singer’s and actor’s photos—like Frank Sinatra—for the walls. I thought that maybe changing the color of the tablecloths to red instead of white to match the back side of the chairs would give the room more of an Italian feel. Maybe even something as simple as small lamps with little shades to keep the light low. I also think, that when the budget allows, we go ahead and hire a few additional staff members for waiting tables and extra bartending shifts. There’s such a big jump in business from midweek to Friday through Sunday, I noticed that everyone seemed to get a little frantic during last weekend’s rush.”
He nodded. “Is that it?”
I did have another huge suggestion, but I hesitated to mention it because I knew it would require a large sum of money. Len sat patiently, waiting as I carefully contemplated my next words. I looked up at him. He was a nice man, and I had to trust myself and come across as though I had confidence in what I was about to say. Besides, I had to remember, the answer was always no if the question—or suggestion in this case—was never asked.
“Um…all the rooms have a themed name, but none of them really have themed décor. I would like, if budget permits, to add in some decorative elements to match the names of each room, as well as have a few of the rooms re-decorated with Italian accents and renamed for a famous Italian person. We could start small, one room at a time, and see if it makes a difference in how the guests enjoy their stays. I don’t believe in spending too much money and time, investing in something that won’t improve the guests’ experience or build clientele, but I believe that these changes will. A survey during checkout would be a definite help with that. When people stay here and admire the rooms, not only feeling as though they’ve just ventured into another era but maybe even another country, they’ll tell their friends about D’Amoré’s. Maybe by word of mouth, business will pick up. I’d also like to have a website built to showcase the rooms once they are ready. There are some great companies who specialize in that without costing an arm and a leg.”
He continued rubbing the sides of his mouth with his fingers, then leaned forward, folding his hands together on top of the desk. He didn’t speak for a moment, and I just knew he was about to veto the room update idea.
“All good points, Grace. I like them, though the room renovations will take a much larger budget than I’d set aside for this year.”
“I understand.” I shrugged. “It was just an idea, certainly nothing that is required. It was just something I thought would help—”
“However,” he continued before I could finish, “while you were making notes all week and getting familiar with everyone and everything, I was staying up late at night going over the books. Lord knows this place needs a lot of changes if it’s going to survive another generation of D’Amorés. That is if Leo ever decides to settle down,” he mumbled the last part as though he was tired of waiting for grandchildren. “And though it would require more in the way of budget, I do think that, if we start out small, as you suggested, we just might be able pull it off.” He smiled at me. “One room at a time.”
Chapter Fourteen
Leo
The ocean was calm this morning: perfect diving conditions. The sun peeked over the mountain ridge, diffusing light over the dark water. I didn’t like to dive in the dark, so I waited a little longer. I never went really deep these days, though. I’d been deep-sea diving many times in the past. In fact, it’d become a regular adventure until that last excursion off the Southwest coast of Maui when my leg had gotten wedged between two large lava rocks covered in coral. The current in that area could be very strong, and dives were only advised under optimal conditions. The day had started out nice and calm, but while we were down about a hundred and twenty feet, the currents had shifted and become stronger than I was capable of resisting, sending me down another thirty feet and straight into the ridge where my leg got wedged between two volcanic cinder cones. I was stuck. I
t was toward the end of the dive, and I only had five minutes of oxygen left. I was certain that that had to be my fate for the wrong doings of my past. Justice had finally come to claim its due. My demise, doing something I loved, was a fitting punishment for my sins. But Tank, my buddy who I’d been diving with a several times, had stayed with me through it all, tugging to free me from the rocks without success. We each only had about one minute left in our tanks. I didn’t want him to die with me; he didn’t deserve a watery death. He was a good guy, and I motioned for him to go up, but he shook his head, determined to set me free. After searching the ocean floor around us, he finally found a long strip of rebar that must have fallen from a cargo ship and was able to use it as a vice, prying one of the rocks lose and freeing my leg. Once freed, we both took off immediately for the surface. I decided that day that I’d been given a second chance. I’d spent most of my days before that consumed with guilt, secretly hiding the disgust I felt for myself, but from then on, I vowed to do everything possible to be a better man, though most days the guilt of my sins still won out. I also decided to only dive in shallow water from then on. I could still get stuck in rocks diving shallow, and I could still drown, but not being able to see the sun reflecting on the top of the water was a bit unnerving to say the least. These days, I stayed a bit closer to the surface.
I took the boat out and headed south to the next cove over, away from the sight of the inn and Grace. Out of sight, out of mind. Yeah, who was I kidding? But I decided the best thing for me was to bury myself in my work. Besides, I had deadlines to meet, and spending time thinking about Grace wasn’t doing me any good. She’d been adamant about not wanting to be with me. Just as adamant as she’d been in Bora Bora. But I sensed her attraction for me, and I couldn’t get past it. She’d kissed me. That spoke volumes of her desire for me. Plus, I could see it in her eyes, her posture, her breathing. I understood her reluctance in the South Pacific, but not here where the circumstances had completely changed.
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