Lucia (The Bonaveras)

by Paris Patricia

  Lucia caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, worried it. “You didn’t agree to that, did you?”

  “Ha! I told him if he was worried about that, then he better get his own sorry ass in there for a change and work it because in case he’d forgotten, it was his damn restaurant, not mine!”

  “Good for you.”

  “Yeah, right. I should have told him that when he started with all the excuses a couple of months ago about why he couldn’t be there as much as he was when I started working for him.”

  Cat looked up toward the ceiling, shook her head. “I knew something wasn’t right. And you and El tried to get me to see it, but I didn’t want to believe Mitch would lie to me. And—” She sighed, held her hands to her head. “As oblivious as it might make me sound, I never suspected he was cheating on me. I just thought… He told me he didn’t feel like he had to be there as much because he had so much confidence in me, that it gave him time to pursue other opportunities, look into opening another restaurant or two. It was a line and I fell for it.”

  She picked up her pacing again. “What an idiot! All the extra shifts, covering for him at the last minute because he had a chance to meet with someone about a new opportunity—opportunities bullshit! While I was covering his ass, he was out screwing around with other women!”

  Cat squeezed her eyes shut. “How could I have been so—?”

  Lucia got up and went to her, wrapped her in a hug, held her. “Don’t. Don’t beat yourself up. He’s not worth it. You’re not the only one he fooled. Eliana and I didn’t start worrying something was up until recently, and it’s easier to see a situation more clearly when you’re not the one caught up in it.”

  She stepped back and looked into her sister’s eyes, as deep and dark as her own, rubbed her shoulders, felt the tight, hard knots bunched there.

  “Mitch took advantage of your relationship, and he took advantage of your honest nature by deceiving you about what he was doing. Most people want to believe the best in others, and when you’re honest with people, like you are, you want to believe they’re honest back. It hurts if you discover they aren’t, especially when they’re someone you’re in a personal relationship with, someone you trusted. It hurts.”

  Cat swallowed. “It hurts, yes, to find out I meant so little to him, but mostly…I’m angry—at him, at myself for being so quick to dismiss the doubts. And I had them. I made excuses for him because I didn’t want to face the possibility I’d been so wrong about him. I didn’t want to think all I might be was someone to run his restaurant so he didn’t have to, and someone to warm his bed when he was in the mood.”

  She groaned. “God, Luch, he was sleeping with other women at the same time he was sleeping with me. I’d already started to suspect he was using me, to admit things weren’t right between us, but not like that. If he was bored with our relationship, with me, he should have ended it, or told me so I could—not sleep around behind my back while I was busting my butt at the restaurant providing him with the time to do it. He made a fool of me, and what’s worse, by agreeing to work all those extra shifts I was freeing him up so he could.”

  “I know. I know how it feels to invest your time in a relationship, to trust someone with your heart, and to have them break it. As hard as it might be right now, though, I’m glad Darla considers you enough of a friend that she risked telling you about Mitch’s carousing. And I’m glad you ended it.”

  Cat nodded. “Me too. I knew deep down we weren’t going to make it. I wasn’t happy, but I tried to make it work because I loved what I was doing, not all the extra shifts when they got so out of hand, but I had all the autonomy I could have wanted. And a part of me hoped I was wrong about Mitch, that he wasn’t taking advantage of me, that he did care about me.”

  Lucia put an arm around Cat’s waist and walked her over to the side of the bed, sat down beside her on it. “You’ve still got your catering business. You can do more of that now, and Liam applied for the permits for Serendipity today. Think of all the time you’ll have to plan for your own restaurant now.”

  Her sister smiled. “Yeah, I’ll probably drive Antonio and our new contractor crazy with all the time I’ll have on my hands. I’ve got very specific ideas of what I want. They’re probably going to groan every time they see me coming because of it. I know I’m going to be over there every spare minute checking things out to make sure I get what I want.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. I’ll probably be over there with you, so we can drive them crazy together.”

  “Teamwork’s a wonderful thing. I’m betting they come up with some not-so-flattering nickname for the two of us that they call us behind our backs.” Caterina leaned her head on Lucia’s shoulder. “Thanks, for tonight, for being here.”

  “Always.”

  “Maybe now that I’m unemployed I’ll finally get a chance to meet our contractor and see if I approve of everyone’s choice.”

  “I have no doubt you will. Of the three we interviewed I thought he showed the most attention to detail. And he and Antonio hit it off from the start, which should make everything run more smoothly.”

  “El says he’s a hunk.” Cat glanced at her and smiled. Lucia was happy to see a spark of humor in her sister’s eyes. She got her heart and her pride stomped on tonight, but she was going to be all right. She was strong, and she was good, and she deserved so much more than a man like Mitch could ever be.

  “He is, in a rugged kind of way. The first time he came to meet with us, even Marcella had a stunned moment when she first saw him.”

  “No!”

  “Yes. And you know how hard it is to make an impression on her when it comes to men. She’s never been one to be awed by someone’s looks, but her jaw was definitely on the verge of dropping when he walked through the front door.”

  “Do I need to watch out for my baby sister? Make sure she doesn’t get seduced by a pretty face into something she’ll regret?”

  Lucia chuckled. “His face is more rugged than pretty, but no worries. She might have had a brief flash of appreciation for the man’s physique—he’s a whole lot of hard, lean muscle—but she recovered quickly, and I’m pretty sure the initial zing was nothing more than a passing lapse.” She curled her lips. “So, I don’t think your baby sister is in any danger of being led astray by our hunky builder.”

  “I’m relieved to know it. I may only be five minutes older than she is, but I take those five minutes very seriously. I consider it my job to look out for her. “

  Lucia tightened her hand on Caterina’s waist. “As we all do for one another, and always will.”

  FRIDAY MORNING LUCIA stopped by Marcella and Eliana’s rooms before going downstairs to inform them that Cat had broken off with Mitch, and that their sister might need a little extra support in the coming weeks.

  They were as relieved and happy as she’d been that it was over, as none of them had cared too much for the man. They would watch out for their sister now, for her spirit, find ways to boost it when it needed boosting, be a salve, an ear, an open arm, and a bridge to help her cross over and leave it all behind her where it belonged now.

  When she made it downstairs, Lucia found Cat in the kitchen, cooking up a storm—quiche, muffins, scones, chocolate-chunk cookies already baked and lined up in neat rows on the counters. Bacon was sizzling on the grill, potatoes frying next to it, two different omelets sat on the family dining table ready and waiting for whoever wanted breakfast.

  She was dealing, Lucia thought, with her emotions, the hurt, the anger, the determination to move forward, and this was how she’d work through it. Cooking, baking, doing what she did so well, and finding comfort there.

  “Your guests will eat well this weekend,” Cat said, holding a spatula in the air and nodding toward the counters. “I’m in a mood to cook, so there’ll be more than the usual fare for them to choose from.”

  “So I see.” Lucia walked up behind her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Looks like yo
u’ve been at it for hours.”

  “Since four thirty. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.” She glanced over her shoulder, met Lucia’s gaze. “Not to worry, it wasn’t because I was all broken and upset, just restless. I didn’t expect to, but in some ways I’m feeling relieved to be free of Mitch. It all still smarts, but I’d begun to lose sight of me toward the end, and what I wanted. I missed me. I won’t ever subordinate who I am for a man again. That’s not love.”

  “Glad to hear it. I missed you too.”

  “Omelets are on the table, and the bacon and potatoes soon will be,” Cat said, signaling she was done wasting time with talk of Mitch. “There’s fresh coffee, and I think I just heard our sisters, so get out plates and silverware and we’ll all have a nice breakfast.”

  She did, and they did. They talked, they laughed, and they ate. Marcella predicted a promising harvest, Eliana updated them on plans for the fall festival, Cat and Lucia dreamed big plans for the new inn and restaurant. And other than Eliana and Marcella giving Cat a hug when they came in, and offering an ear when she wanted one, no one mentioned Mitch. They set a course for healing.

  The weekend came and went in a blur of guests, day visitors, wine tastings, tours. They were all kept hopping, with little time for the four of them to catch up after their shared breakfast Friday.

  With summer easing toward autumn, Marcella was busier in the fields, tending the vines, coddling the grapes, keeping a vigilant eye out for anything that might compromise the harvest at this point.

  Because Marcella had less time now to help with the tastings and Caterina had more since leaving Caulfield’s, she jumped in to fill the void. Eliana ran tours, and Lucia made sure no guest wanted for anything that was within her power to accommodate.

  Monday they all breathed a sigh, looked forward to a more relaxing pace until the next weekend when odds were they’d be just as busy as the one past.

  Antonio stopped by the reception desk around noon, on his way out to go to the airport to pick up his grandfather. They’d had no time together since their dinner date Thursday night, bar a few minutes here and there, nothing long enough except for a quick kiss and an everything okay?

  “You must be eager to see him,” Lucia said when he came around behind the desk and leaned down to give her a kiss.

  “I am. I’m used to seeing him often, so even though he can be stubborn and tiring, I’ve missed him.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting him. I’m guessing he’s a real charmer and that I’m going to fall in love with him instantly.”

  Antonio hiked a brow. “What makes you think so?”

  She grinned, her lips curling up at the corners under their own volition. “He raised you, didn’t he? And I fell for you in nothing flat.”

  He pulled her up out of her chair and gave her a proper kiss—lips, tongue, breath stopping—not at all what she needed knowing they had two weeks of abstinence staring them down.

  “You know we’re both going to suffer for that until you put your nonno back on a plane to Italy,” Lucia told him when they finally broke the kiss.

  “I told you to not to worry about that; I’ll deal with my grandfather. Besides, I couldn’t help myself. You’re the one temptation I’m an utter failure at resisting.”

  “You better get going before we both throw our resistance out the window, and your poor grandfather is left to roam the baggage claim at Dulles looking for you.”

  Lucia watched him go, clucked her tongue when he walked out the door and it clicked shut behind him. It would be a difficult, almost impossible, challenge to stay away from him. Even harder to mask all the feelings he stirred in her so his grandfather didn’t discover how close they’d become. Despite Antonio’s assurance she didn’t need to worry about what his grandfather thought, she didn’t think they should flaunt their relationship and give the man false hopes.

  Would they be able to last two weeks without giving anything away? Or were their feelings for each other too strong, too obvious, that they were only fooling themselves to think he wouldn’t see?

  It’s odd to think we might have been

  Sun, moon and stars unto each other;

  Only I turned down one little street

  As you went up another.

  Fanny Heaship Lea

  Caterina made dinner. Bruschetta, buffalo mozzarella, assorted hard cheeses, and stuffed zucchini flowers for appetizers, with wine from their cellars. For the main course, linguini and shrimp in a delicate saffron cream sauce, warm olive bread, a simple salad made of lettuce and tomatoes from her kitchen garden, some herbs, and fresh-grated Grana Padano. And for dessert, tiramisu, made with biscuits instead of cake, served in individual glass bowls the color of sparkling champagne, and tasting like heaven.

  They dined on the terrace, the sun setting the sky on fire as it dipped behind the gentle swells of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Then they lit candles, opened more wine, embraced the fine summer night as the crickets began their evening serenade—a warm welcome for the elder DeLuca, in any country.

  “You honor me with this meal,” Antonio’s grandfather said to Caterina. “For I suspect you chose the menu with me in mind. I believe you may be as fine a cook as my grandmother was, and she was one of the finest Cortona ever knew.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. DeLuca,” Cat said with a smile just for him. “And I’m sure that’s a high compliment you give, so thank you for it.”

  “Please, call me Vincenzo.” He looked around the table. “All of you. I’m an old man, I know, but I prefer not to be reminded of it when in the company of four such young and beautiful women. So I give you leave to indulge me, and dispel with the decorum of respect.”

  He angled his head toward Antonio, who wore an amused smirk at his grandfather’s remark. “Except for you, lad, who I expect to continue regarding me as your elder, older and wiser, and as such, in your case, deserving of your deference.”

  “And have I not always respected you, Nonno?”

  “You have, even though you don’t always listen to the wisdom of my advice.”

  Antonio chuckled, but didn’t counter. Lucia fought the impulse to keep her eyes on his beautiful face, to share a smile that hinted at anything beyond amusement over his grandfather’s jibes. It wasn’t easy but she managed to pull them away, to give her attention to their newest guest.

  “You must have some wonderful stories about our grandfather, Vincenzo.” She hooked a finger around her wine glass and slid it toward her. “Would you share some of them with us?”

  “Oh, I could tell you some tales for sure. We grew up together, you know. As thick as thieves, as they say, from the time we were young boys. So we had our share of adventures.”

  “We’d love to hear a few.” Marcella sat forward, put her elbows on the table. She’d always been a lover of stories, real or fictional, and as a child was constantly begging their parents to tell one. “None of us ever got to meet him, except for Lucia, and she was too young to remember him or our grandmother.”

  “And the stories our parents told us,” Eliana chimed in, “they were from their later years, when they were already adults. It would be fun to hear about some of the escapades of your youth.”

  He sat up straighter. Even though his face was lined with age, his eyes were still as bright and blue as his grandson’s, and they glinted with pleasure. He took a sip of wine, cleared his throat. “I could probably tell you a few things about your grandmother that you don’t know, as well. I knew her when she was just a girl, too. A fine, fine woman she was, and a beauty, just like the four of you; but we can save those for another day.”

  He scratched his head, looked thoughtful, and then gave a nod. “Okay, let me begin with how we almost burned down the church. We were six years old. It was the day Rodrigo and I first met…”

  Lucia leaned back in her chair, a smile playing over her lips. She lifted her glass, watched the myriad of expressions that flitted across Vincenzo’s face over the rim
of the bowl as she took a sip, and he began his tale.

  What a charmer he was. She’d been right to think he would be. He had a way with a smile, with a word, and she imagined in his earlier days, with the ladies as well.

  Not so different from his grandson, she guessed. She stole a look at Antonio, caught him stealing one at her. She dipped her head, took another drink from her glass, and then tipped it ever so slightly in his direction.

  HIS NONNO HAD only been there three days but Antonio was getting punchy. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold out, spending time in the same room with Lucia, at the same table, within touching distance, but not being able to touch, to taste, to satisfy his desire for her. She’d insisted on it and it was driving him mad. It was going to end, though, just as soon as he could get her off to himself and clear the air.

  I’m a man bewitched, he thought, in every way, helpless to break the spell. Not that he had any desire to. He was perfectly content, enjoyed the magic she lent to his life…and he’d be damn glad when she agreed to marry him and realized they didn’t need to pretend about anything. And she would—he knew in his heart she loved him—and although he’d need to make some major changes in his life, they’d all be worth it.

  He yanked on a pair of black jeans, buttoned his shirt and tucked it into the waistband. Liam hadn’t walked the site yet, so they were meeting in the parking lot and walking down to the plot from there so he could check it out.

  The builder wanted to do some preplanning in anticipation of the permits coming through quickly so he could start lining up his contractors. He’d also told Antonio he wanted to discuss some questions he had on the newest set of drawings Antonio had given him to make sure they were on the same page.