“Let’s go talk in private.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said through gritted teeth. Dante seemingly ignored her, and instead, dragged her to the back. He pushed one of the doors open and tugged her inside. Looking around, she saw they were in the storage pantry. The shelves were lined with various dry ingredients and non-perishables, and a single light illuminated them from overhead.
She whirled around to face him, and she could have sworn his eyes glowed in the low light. He stepped forward, forcing her to shuffle backwards until her back hit one of the shelves. He was so close to her, and when she took a deep breath, she smelled the strangest thing. Like … freshly-baked bread. It was delicious and made her knees go weak.
“Now, can you please calm down so we can talk about this?” he asked in a low voice.
“Talk about this? What is there to talk about? You obviously hate me and my restaurant and will do anything to ruin me!”
“I don’t hate you,” he said in a calm voice.
“Then what was that video about? And this?” She shook the paper at him again.
Dante let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry about the video. I didn’t mean those things. I should have said sorry right away, but something came up.”
“Then why did you say them?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I … I don’t know, okay? Maybe I was tired. I just wasn’t thinking. And excuse me, you stole my suppliers.”
She clucked her tongue. “Oh please, I just borrowed them for a day. You obviously had no problem getting them back. But this …”
He took the paper from her, crumpled it, and then tossed it aside. “I had nothing to do with this. Believe me, please.”
“But who—” She stopped short when she realized how close Dante was and how he had trapped her. When did he place his palms on the shelves behind her? His body was barely touching hers, but she could feel the heat emanating from him. He towered over her, and his shoulders were so broad and his chest so wide. Oh Lord, there was that scent again …
“Holly …” he whispered, his head moving closer. What was he going to do? His face was millimeters away from hers …
The door creaked as it flew open, the heavy wood banging against the wall with a loud crash. “Dante! I heard that crazy lady came barging in here! Did she like that little gift I left her?”
Dante let out a curse, and Holly’s eyes went wide. Before he could say anything, she planted her palms on his chest and pushed him away. “You had nothing to do with this?” she accused.
“I swear, Holly—”
Fury rose in her. “Shut up! And just leave me alone from now on.” She stomped away from him, pushing the other man in the doorway aside. She could feel the stares from the kitchen staff boring into her, but she ignored them and continued through the dining room and out the front door.
That lying asshole! Oh, she could run him through with her knives. He lied to her face and then tried to kiss her! Warmth crept up into her cheeks as she thought of how close he’d been. How dare he? Did he think he could just turn on the charm and kiss her and then she’d forget how he’d been trying to ruin her restaurant?
She took one last backward glance at the restaurant, bitterness growing in her. What she ever did to deserve this, she didn’t know.
Maybe she should have just taken the high road and not reacted to that stupid video. Instead, she got back at him, finding his suppliers specifically, bribing them, and ordering double of what she needed, just to make sure Muccino’s didn’t get their ingredients. Of course, she couldn’t keep up with those orders, but she just needed a win and to stick it to him.
His handsome face popped into her mind, which only made her angrier. God, how could a man be so beautiful? That tanned olive skin, the sculpted features, and those unusual eyes. An involuntary shiver went through her, and she was sure it wasn’t because she was outside in the freezing cold without her coat.
Holly walked into Petit Louve and headed straight to the kitchen. Sharice must have worked her magic because there were a couple of people in the dining room and the kitchen was buzzing with activity. Pushing all thoughts of Dante Muccino aside, she threw herself into her work.
Chapter Five
It was a bright winter day, the skies unusually blue and the air crisp and cold. Holly pulled her coat closer as she exited the subway stop about two blocks from Petite Louve. She was exhausted, not because of the seventh late night she’d had in the kitchen—that she could do all day, everyday. It was always the mornings that were a struggle.
But this was her life now, and she would have to do whatever she could to make the best of it.
It was Monday and the restaurant was closed, but she had volunteered to come in at noon to let their bookkeeper in. But she also wanted some time alone in the one place she felt at home. Maybe she’d make herself some tea and read in her office. Or come up with some new recipes for the grand opening in a month. It didn’t matter. She could roller skate down the halls or turn up the music and dance around by herself. She’d feel a whole lot better as long as she was in her kitchen.
As she walked up to Petite Louve, she tried not to glance across the street, even though she spent the night (or early morning) tossing and turning and thinking about Dante Muccino. It was like when her brain wasn’t occupied, all she could think of was him. Little details intruding into her mind, like how hard the muscles of his chest had been when she pushed against him. Or the warmth of his breath on her skin. Or how those strange eyes looked at her with unmistakable heat. Dante was an experienced player. He probably tried to seduce her so she wouldn’t sue him or take to social media to knock him down.
She let out a sigh, the cold condensing her breath into a wispy vapor. It wouldn’t hurt, just to glance across the street. Besides, Muccino’s was probably closed too. Turning her head, she gave in and looked toward the other restaurant.
“Huh.” She wrinkled her nose. There was an old woman standing by Muccino’s front door. She was huddled into a thick, long wool coat, rubbing her hands together to try and keep warm. Who was this woman? She looked like she was waiting for someone. Did she not know Muccino’s was closed? Maybe she was confused.
Checking both sides of the street, Holly darted across. “Excuse me, are you okay?” she asked when she reached the old woman.
She looked up at Holly. Though her face was weathered and wrinkled and her hair gray, her blue eyes were sharp. “Yes, dear, I’m fine. Can I help you?”
Holly wanted to laugh. “Uhm, no, I’m good. But it’s cold out here and you really shouldn’t be out in this weather. Do you want me to call someone for you? Do you have a cellphone?”
“Yes, I’m waiting for my nephew,” she said, fishing her phone out of her pocket. “Oh dear, I just can’t seem to figure out these things … it’s dead, and I swore I plugged it in before I went to bed.”
Holly glanced at the black, dead screen of her phone. “My phone’s the same brand,” she said. “Why don’t you come into my restaurant? We can plug in your phone for a bit, and I can fix you up some tea to get you warm.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“Please, it’s no bother at all.” She offered her arm to the woman. “It’s just across the street. I’m Holly, by the way.”
“I’m Gianna,” the woman replied, taking her arm. “And you own that restaurant?”
“I wish. I just work in the kitchen.”
“You cook?” Gianna said, her brow raised. “How nice.”
***
Dante scrambled out of his loft apartment, checking to make sure his keys, phone, and wallet were in his pocket.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Quinn Martin, his neighbor who also happened to be a Lycan shifter, asked as he leapt into the elevator as the doors began to close.
“Hey, Quinn,” Dante greeted. “Thanks for holding the door.”
“No problem. Hey, isn’t Muccino’s closed today?” Quinn asked as he pressed the b
utton for the parking garage.
“Yeah, we are. But, I gotta go meet Nonna Gianna there. She texted me that she was coming and wanted to meet there. No warning or anything, either.” He cursed as he checked his phone. No reply back and no answer to his missed calls. He let out a sigh. Nonna Gianna was probably doing this on purpose, so he wouldn’t have time to say no. Didn’t she even realize they were closed today?
The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival to the garage level.
“Well, see ya buddy,” Quinn said with a wave as he walked over to his parking spot.
“Yeah, stop by the restaurant with Serena and the rugrats anytime,” Dante replied as he strode over to his own vehicle. He pressed the keyfob, which unlocked the Jaguar, and slid into the driver’s seat.
Dante had initially moved into The Enclave, the New York Lycan clan’s headquarters, when he first transferred to the city to open up Muccino’s. However, after two years, he never quite felt at home there. He was still technically part of the New Jersey clan, and even though his own sister (and Alpha) was only a few floors up, he still didn’t feel welcome.
So, as soon as he could afford it, he found the loft apartment and bought it. It was close enough to the restaurant, plus it was nice having Quinn as a neighbor. They had rubbed each other the wrong way in the beginning (mostly because the former Lone Wolf had been jealous and thought Dante had been trying to steal his mate), but over the years, they’d slipped into an easy friendship. In fact, the security agency Quinn and his brothers Killian and Connor ran was only around the corner from the restaurant and they often ordered their lunch from them. Muccino’s had been the place where Connor and Evie held their small wedding reception and where they celebrated their kids’ birthdays and other special occasions.
He drove the car out of the garage and maneuvered through the streets with practiced ease. Hopefully he’d get there before Nonna Gianna did, but it was almost one o’clock. She didn’t even mention how she was going to get all the way to New York from New Jersey. He tried calling Frankie, but she wasn’t picking up. Probably taking care of Julianna. When he pulled up in front of Muccino’s and there was no sign of the older woman, he felt panic creep into his chest.
“Damn,” he cursed as he slammed the door of the Jaguar. The message was sent over three hours ago. It was his day off, after all, so he turned his alarm off and woke up late, so he didn’t even see her message until she had probably left New Jersey.
What if she’d gotten into an accident? Or someone had taken advantage of her? Were there any major train accidents that morning? Shit. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.
As he finished scrolling through the breaking news on his phone, he looked up and saw that the lights across the street were on. Strange. As far as he could tell, the other restaurant was only open for dinner. Curious, he strolled over.
The lights were on in the dining room, though it was empty and the tables were not set up. However, squinting through the glass, he noticed a familiar figure sitting at one of the tables in the corner. Nonna Gianna. That’s where she was! Relief swept over him. But what was she doing here?
A moment later, someone came out from the kitchen. It was Holly, holding a tray with a teapot and cups. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was glad Nonna Gianna was safe.
“Hey!” He tapped on the window to get their attention. “Hey!” he called again.
Holly’s head swung over to him. She squinted her eyes, and, when she recognized him, her face turned into a frown. She immediately stood up and strode to the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a frosty tone as she stuck her head out.
Dante stared at her, his eyes fixed on her face. Last night, when Holly had charged into Muccino’s, she looked like a valkyrie ready for battle. Her eyes were like blazing blue flames, so different from the cold stare he had seen before.
He groaned, thinking of his body’s immediate reaction to her. Thank God his chef’s shirt was long and loose and hid the erection that he sported. Not that it got any better once he was alone with her. He wasn’t sure why he had pulled her into the pantry, but his wolf was demanding he take her away. It got worse when he got close enough to smell her perfume—lavender with a hint of vanilla—and feel the warmth of her skin. He wanted to touch her hair, too and see it unbound from its usual up do. That was, until Enzo interrupted them.
“Well?”
Dante cleared his throat, not realizing he’d been staring. How could he not? It seemed he got his wish. Today, her face was free of makeup and her hair was in loose waves down her shoulders and back. Her sweater matched her eyes, clung to her generous breasts, and dipped into her small waist. He had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life and he was afraid he’d embarrass himself if he didn’t control his feelings.
“You have something of mine,” he said with a grin.
Her brows furrowed. “Excuse me? I didn’t steal anything from you.”
He nodded to Nonna Gianna, who was watching them with curious eyes. “You have my nonna over there.”
Her pretty faced drained of color. “Your …”
“Dante!” Nonna Gianna called. “There you are!”
Seemingly still in shock, Holly stepped aside to let him in and followed behind him as he walked over to his great-aunt.
“Nonna, what are you doing here?” he asked as he embraced her and kissed her cheek.
“Dante, I came early. I thought you’d be in by now.”
“It’s the first Monday of the month, you know we’re closed so the crew can come in and do a deep clean.”
“Oh, I thought you were closed second Mondays?” the old woman said. “I didn’t realize. I sent you that message and then my phone died.”
“How did you get here anyway? Did you take the train? Did Matt drive you?”
“Oh no, I took the Uber. Matt showed me and put it on my phone.”
Dante chuckled. “You took an Uber all the way here?”
Gianna nodded. “Yes. He was a nice young man, and I gave him a tip since it’s a long way.”
“You know you’re not supposed to—never mind.” He shook his head. “But how’d you end up here?”
“Oh, I was waiting outside, and she found me.” She smiled at Holly. “Such a nice girl, huh? And pretty, too.”
Dante turned to the other chef, who had a slight blush on her cheeks. “Thank you,” he said. “I would have gotten here sooner, but I didn’t know she was going to show up.”
“It’s fine,” she said, giving him a dismissive wave. “I was coming in to do some work. I’m glad I was here to get her out of the cold. She really shouldn’t be out here in this weather.”
Now he really felt like scum. Damn Enzo and his revenge scheme. He really had no idea his younger brother was going to put up that sign. He had torn Enzo a new one as soon as Holly left. His brother said it was just a little prank, and he had meant to take it down after an hour.
Over the course of the dinner service last night, Dante kept ducking out to check her restaurant, feeling relieved as he saw diners trickling in. He knew how cutthroat this business was and how razor-thin margins could be. Even one night of zero diners could be a disaster.
“It wasn’t my intention to leave her out there,” he said.
“Dante, please,” Nonna Gianna assured. “I’m fine, I told you. I’m as strong as an ox. Don’t you young ones count me out yet.”
He glanced at the older lady. “We should head probably go…”
“Can’t I finish my tea?” Gianna asked with an innocent smile on her face. “And, surely, you could use some, too.”
Holly’s gaze ping-ponged back and forth from him to his great-aunt. Dante chuckled inwardly, realizing she’d probably never had to deal with nosy Italian women. He wanted to spare her, but was having too much fun watching her squirm.
“Sure, I’d love some,” he said, pulling up the chair next to her. “Holly?”
She
straightened her shoulders, and her eyes pinned him with her frosty gaze. “Fine. There’s enough tea, I suppose. And I made some sandwiches and macarons as well.” She turned around and disappeared into the kitchen, then came back a few seconds later, another cup in her hand.
She sat across from him and handed him the cup. He deliberately brushed his fingers against hers, wondering if she also felt that tingle across her skin when they touched. She remained perfectly calm, pouring tea for all three of them.
“So,” Gianna began as she took a sip of hers. “You’re a chef, Holly. Tell us, who taught you?”
“I went to school in Paris. At École de Cuisine Alain Chevalier,” Holly replied.
Ding ding ding. Point for him. He called it. Snooty classical French cooking school.
“Oh, how fancy. I don’t think I’ve had French food,” Gianna said.
“You’re welcome to come any time,” Holly said warmly. “I’ll whip you up something special.”
“Nonna Gianna is a chef, too,” Dante added as he took a bite of a macaron. They were amazing—not too sweet and melted in his mouth. He wondered briefly what else of hers would melt in his mouth.
“Really?” Holly asked.
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “She and my grandma taught me everything I know.” He reached for more of the macarons.
She seemed taken aback. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”
“Muccino’s is our family restaurant,” Gianna added. “We have the original one in New Jersey that Dante’s grandparents put up, and then the one across the street is an offshoot.”
“That’s nice,” she said.
“Now, Holly,” Gianna turned to her. “This restaurant. Petite Louve. What does it mean?”
“It means ‘little wolf’ in Old French. The owner and I—”
Dante choked on his tea and coughed out bits of pastry, barely covering his mouth with a napkin. Gianna chuckled and gave him a knowing glance.
“Are you alright?” Holly asked, giving him a concerned look.
“I’m … fine …” He took another gulp of tea. “Sorry … uhm, it’s an interesting name.”
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