by SJ McCoy
Her expression had softened while he spoke. He knew it was a big risk, but he took it. He reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “You won’t grow old alone. Someday someone will come along who’ll want to earn your love. You deserve to be somebody’s first choice. You’ll be some lucky guy’s one and only choice. Don’t you ever doubt that, okay?”
Her eyes filled with tears. He squeezed her hand, and for a second, she squeezed back and nodded. Then she looked up. Molly was coming toward them.
“I have to go.” She snatched up her purse and fled for the door.
“What’s going on?” asked Molly when she reached the table.
Antonio shrugged. There was no way he could explain, nor would he want to. “She had to go. I’ll get her tab.”
Chapter Two
When Mary Ellen reached her apartment, she slammed the door behind her and leaned back against it. Her hands were shaking, and she was out of breath. That last part shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, considering she’d practically run all the way back here. She took a few deep breaths and then pushed away from the door and went through to the bedroom to look at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were shiny. She shrugged. It was good motivation to run more often.
She sat down on the end of the bed and looked herself in the eye. “Why are you so freaked out?” She shrugged again in response. She might not want to say it out loud, but she felt incredibly stupid. It was bad enough to hear that David was now divorced and that her mom thought he might have come to Napa to get back with her—and that she would want to. She shuddered. Is that all her mom thought she was worth? That she should be grateful for a second chance with a man who’d cast her aside without a second thought when he met someone who would be more useful to his career—oh, and who happened to have a tiny waist and huge boobs and giggled a lot? No. She wasn’t going to take herself back down that slippery slope. She’d done the work, she’d gotten over it, she’d fought hard to regain her self-confidence, she wasn’t going down that road again. She knew she deserved better than the way David had treated her.
But Antonio? Antonio Di-freaking-Giovanni? Her secret crush—the guy she’d spent more nights with than any other—not that he knew anything about that. He was her fantasy guy. His was the face she pictured when she … She felt her cheeks flush. But he was an asshole. An arrogant, superficial prick. Or at least, so she’d always thought. Ever since she’d first met him, she’d put him in the same league as David. A good-looking, successful guy—lovely on the outside, but not so lovely on the inside. He was superficial, the kind of person whose beauty was only skin deep.
She was mortified that he’d overheard her talking to her mom. She tried desperately to remember every word she’d said. What insight into her shame had she given him? She wouldn’t want anyone on earth to have overheard that conversation—but him? She shook her head sadly. She’d have to find a new dream guy to fantasize about. There’d be no pleasure to be found in picturing his face now. It’d be too tainted with embarrassment.
She couldn’t reconcile what he’d done—what he’d said—with the man she knew him to be. He was superficial. He was into money and beauty and easy sex. But the guy who’d sat down at her table—and taken hold of her hand, no less—that guy had been someone else entirely. He’d been caring and compassionate. She sighed. And still so damned gorgeous. All those things he’d said? He’d even told her she was beautiful. He’d said she was a real woman. Was he just so good at knowing what a woman needed to hear at any given point in time? Did it come from all those years of talking women into bed? No. She knew that wasn’t it. He’d been so genuine; she’d been able to feel how much he cared. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to have him care about her for real—not just momentary compassion—but if he cared about her like a boyfriend. She let out a little laugh. No. He might be a much more decent person than she’d ever given him credit for. It now made more sense that both Cameron and Chelsea thought so much of him—he’d probably be an awesome friend—but he didn’t treat the women he got involved with that way. She knew that for a fact because he never kept them around for more than a date or two. And besides, it wasn’t as if he would ever get involved with her. He was a fast mover with the ladies. She’d known him for years now, and he’d never shown a flicker of interest. If he’d found her attractive, she would have had her turn in his bed when she first came to Napa. She didn’t doubt it.
She started at the sound of her phone ringing. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, but it wasn’t in her nature to ignore it. She dug it out of her purse. Chelsea’s name flashed on the display. She smiled. If she had to speak to anyone right now, Chelsea would be the person she chose.
“Hey, girlfriend. What’s up?”
“There’s nothing up with me. Is there something up with you?”
Mary Ellen frowned, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “Why?”
“Because Grant and I just arrived at Molly’s and she asked if I know what’s going on with you.”
“Tell her I’m sorry, I’ll stop by in the morning and settle my bill. She doesn’t need to worry that I did a runner on her.”
“Cut the crap, Mary El. You know full well that’s not what she’s worried about. She said you seemed okay then you took a phone call that looked like bad news and then Antonio said something to you that sent you running out of here. I’m worried. What happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine, and I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“No, that’s not okay. In fact, that’s so not okay, I’m going to have to come over and get it out of you.”
“No! Didn’t you say you and Grant just got to Molly’s? Aren’t you about to have dinner?”
“We were, but that’s far less important. You usually tell me everything. So, you saying you don’t want to talk about it freaks me out. I know it must be something horrible.”
Mary Ellen blew out a sigh. “How about we have a girly night soon, and I’ll tell you all about it? Right now, I want to have a bubble bath and an early night.”
“Okay.” Chelsea didn’t sound convinced. “Tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night it is. Now get off the phone and go have dinner with your man.”
“Not until you tell me what Antonio did.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s a lie.”
Mary Ellen smiled and shook her head. “Okay, so it’s a lie. But the truth is there’s nothing I’m going to tell you before I see you tomorrow.”
“Just tell me one thing?”
“No!”
“Fair enough. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Chelsea. Just forget about it okay? It’s nothing earth-shattering, there’s nothing horrible going on, I promise. I’m fine. I was just a bit shaken up.”
“Okay. If you say so. But tomorrow …”
“Tomorrow I’ll no doubt be ready to talk your ear off. Now, go.”
“Okay, see you.”
“Bye and say hi to Grant for me.”
Mary Ellen hung up with a rueful smile. Chelsea was such a good friend—a fierce friend. She looked all cute and dainty; half the time she dressed like a fairy, but there was nothing weak about her. She was one determined little lady.
She got to her feet and went through to the bathroom to draw herself a bath.
~ ~ ~
Chelsea put her phone away and made a face at Grant.
“What did she say? Is she all right?”
“She says she’s fine. She said nothing horrible happened, but she won’t tell me what he did. I’m going to have dinner with her tomorrow and get it out of her.”
Grant smiled. “I love the way you care about her so much. If she says she’s okay, I’m inclined to believe her. I can’t think of much that would shake Mary Ellen.”
Chelsea pursed her lips. “Neither can I; that’s
what bothers me. I want to wring Antonio’s neck!”
“Why?”
“Because Molly seemed to think he sent her running out of here.”
Molly came back to the table with their drinks. “Did you talk to her?”
“Yeah. You know what she’s like. She says she’s fine. Tell me again what happened?”
Molly shrugged. “Maybe it was nothing, but the look on her face when she left … I don’t know. She was sitting right here, and Antonio was in the booth behind. I didn’t want to tell her he was there, because you know how she gets about him.”
Chelsea nodded. “Yeah, that’s what worries me.”
Grant shook his head. “I don’t get the deal with those two.”
“There is no deal. Mary Ellen thinks he’s gorgeous but only on the outside.”
Grant chuckled. “Antonio thinks she’s gorgeous, too.”
Chelsea swung her head around to look at him. “He does?”
“Yeah!”
“But what …? Why …?” Chelsea shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why’s he never done anything about it? He never usually holds back if he likes a woman.”
Grant shrugged.
“Maybe it’s because she’s one of us?” suggested Molly. “I mean, he gets around, but he’s never dated anyone I know very well.”
Chelsea made a face. “Yeah. Don’t shit where you eat.”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” said Molly. “At least it shows he has some values.”
“Whatever. What did he do that sent her running out of here tonight? That’s what I want to know.”
“Maybe it wasn’t even him. Like I said, she was on the phone for a few minutes. She looked upset, but I was taking a big order and couldn’t get straight to her. Antonio came and sat here with her and said something and she got up and ran out. By the time I got here, all Antonio had to say was that she had to leave.” Molly shrugged. “And he paid her check.”
Chelsea drummed her fingers on the table. “I need to talk to him.”
Grant smiled at her. “How about we track him down once we’ve had dinner? That way I get to eat, and you get a chance to calm down a little.”
She smiled back. “Sorry, yeah, let’s do that.”
“Don’t go yelling at him till you know the full story, will you?” said Molly. “I feel like I snitched on him and he might not even have done anything.”
“Oh, he probably has,” said Chelsea.
Grant shook his head at her. “Let’s wait and see, can we?”
She drew in a big breath and then slowly blew it out. They were right. She got so protective of Mary Ellen. She was so strong and capable that everyone thought she was indestructible, but Chelsea knew better. She and Mary Ellen had become fast friends when Mary Ellen first arrived here, and Chelsea knew the heartbreak she’d clawed her way back from. She still didn’t date much even now. She claimed it was because her life was full enough, but Chelsea worried that the real reason was because her heart was still too fragile. She had this huge crush on Antonio, and if he’d said something that hurt her, then he was going to be in deep trouble.
~ ~ ~
Antonio surveyed the dance floor from his seat at the bar. Like Molly’s had been, it was busy in Muse for a Wednesday. The outdoor terrace was still half full of diners, and the dance floor was busy. There was a large party of women, most of whom were dancing, many of whom had already given him signals if he wanted to pick up on them. He didn’t.
“Is everything all right?”
He looked up and smiled at the maître d’. “Everything’s fine, Rodney.”
Rodney nodded stiffly. He was a good man, if a little formal. Antonio was thrilled that he’d managed to headhunt him from one of the best restaurants in San Francisco when he opened Muse.
“Really. I’m okay.” Antonio smiled again at the older man.
“If you insist, then I shan’t ask again. However …”
Antonio smiled at the way he left the invitation to talk hanging. Could he open up? Could he tell Rodney about what had happened this evening with Mary Ellen? No. He shook his head briefly. He didn’t need to lay that on Rodney, even if he knew what had happened. What would he say? What could he say? “I appreciate it though.”
Rodney nodded again and looked out at the dance floor. “It seems you have a rather nice selection of potential distractions on offer this evening.”
“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?”
“Am I to understand you’re not looking for a distraction?”
Antonio shook his head. “No. For what may be the first time in my life, I think what I need is reflection, not distraction.”
The corners of Rodney’s mouth turned up into what might be a smile. “Very well. I’ll leave you be. When you’re ready, remember I make a good sounding board.”
“Thanks.” Antonio smiled as he watched him walk away. Maybe he’d take him up on that offer when he figured out whatever it was he needed to talk about.
He watched the women dance for a few moments, hot bodies moving to the music, a couple of inviting looks thrown in his direction. It all left him cold. He should probably go home. He didn’t even know why he’d come in here. Muse ran itself for the most part. He had a great management team in place, including Rodney.
He got to his feet and then sat back down again when he spotted Chelsea and Grant coming in. He loved them both, but he wished he’d left before they arrived. He wasn’t in the mood for socializing.
He frowned as they approached. It didn’t look like Chelsea was much in the mood for socializing either. His normally bright and cheery cousin wore a determined scowl and was heading straight for him. Grant followed in her wake, looking worried.
“Hey, Chels.” He greeted her with a smile and wrapped her in a hug before she could launch into her offensive, giving Grant a what’s going on? look over her shoulder as he did.
Grant held his palms up and gave him a helpless look.
He should have known better. No one could stop Chelsea when she got a bee in her bonnet. She was an unstoppable force, and it seemed that force was now directed at him.
She stepped back and scowled up at him. “Are you going to tell me?”
His heart sank. Damn. Had she spoken to Mary Ellen? “Tell you what?”
“What happened at Molly’s tonight.”
He lifted a shoulder and turned to wave the bartender over. He kind of hoped they didn't intend to stay for a drink, but he needed a minute to think about what he should say. “What have you heard?” he asked when he turned back around.
Chelsea glared at him. “What did you do?”
He smiled, knowing he looked much more confident than he felt. “I ate dinner, I had a beer.”
“Antonio!” Chelsea’s eyes flashed with anger. “You know damned well what I mean. What happened with Mary Ellen? Why was she so upset and why did she leave?”
He sure as hell wasn’t about to tell them what he’d overheard. “Ah. Yes. I don’t really know.”
Chelsea continued to glare at him.
He glared back, but he couldn’t keep it up. She stared him down. Damn her. Damn his soft Italian heart! He crumbled. “Okay, so she got a phone call that upset her. I felt bad for her, so I went and had a word with her, tried to cheer her up.”
“And that was enough to send her running out of there?”
He shrugged. “Apparently.”
Chelsea looked thoughtful. “What was the phone call about and what did you say to her?”
Antonio shook his head. “No. That’s not my business to share. I think you should ask her.”
“That just makes me think you’re ashamed of what you did. Did you make a move on her because you thought she was upset and vulnerable?”
He sucked in a deep breath. He wasn’t going to react. Sting as it might, it was a fair assumption, he supposed—given his track record. He shrugged. It didn’t matter so much if Chelsea th
ought badly of him; what did matter was that he shouldn’t go sharing Mary Ellen’s business. “You should talk to her. If she wants to tell you what happened, I’m sure she will.”
Chelsea glared at him again, apparently believing the worst. “I will.” She turned on her heel and stalked out.
Grant stayed behind. “Are you okay?”
Antonio nodded.
“There’s more to this than you’re letting her think, right?”
He nodded again.
Grant smiled and grasped his shoulder. “Sorry, sometimes she gets a bit overzealous about protecting her people.”
Antonio chuckled. “I know; I’ve known her all her life. It’s one of the things I love about her. And when she calms down enough, I’ll remind her that I’m one of her people, too. For now, I’m happy that she’s looking out for Mary Ellen. Someone needs to.”
Grant raised an eyebrow. “Is she okay?”
“Let’s just say I think she could use a friend at the moment.”
Grant looked at the door where Chelsea was waiting impatiently for him, then back at Antonio. “And would I be crazy if I guessed that you would like to be that friend?”
Antonio held his gaze for a long moment before he looked away and shrugged.
Chapter Three
“I was thinking.” Mary Ellen dropped her gaze and fiddled with an imaginary speck on her skirt. “While you’re interviewing this afternoon, I could get started on the quarterlies.”
Cameron frowned. “Why would you do that? We don’t start the quarterlies until next week, and besides, you’re interviewing, too.”
“I don’t have to, though, do I? I mean, ultimately, the decision is yours.”
“Look at me.”
Mary Ellen pursed her lips. Damn. He was onto her.
“Mary Ellen.” He sounded stern.
She reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet his.