by Paula Cox
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
Mine copyright @ 2016 by Paula Cox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 1
Italian weddings were always madness, and this one was no different. Between making sure the buffet tables were constantly full, to keeping her staff on the task at hand—rather than allowing themselves to be dragged into the festivities—Liana Caterina had her plate full. Then there was the constant refilling of wine glasses, the defusing of tense situations between drunken family members, and the constant juggling of plates. She was dead tired. Her feet ached like she’d been hobbling around in high heels, rather than the sensible black leather sneakers that were both slip proof and reinforced at the toe.
It never hurt to be prepared in this game.
And Lord, what a game weddings could be! She’d worked dozens and still had never quite gotten the hang of it. No wedding, so far, had turned out perfect. This one, however, was looking suspiciously like it might.
The night was drawing to a close. The last of the dessert plates had been cleared from the tables, the dance floor had become less of a gyrating mess of bodies and more of a gentle rocking ocean, and so far nobody had come and yelled at her about something they’d found issue with.
In a couple more hours, Liana would be at home. And though she was beat, she knew she’d have to practice her singing for at least a few songs before she could get to bed. Art required sacrifice, and she would give everything to music if it demanded it of her.
The ceiling swirled with different colored lights. They looked almost like stars. Liana found herself watching them as she walked around the room, her eyes inevitably tracking back up each time she tried to focus them on the task in front of her. She was sleepy and feared that staring at the lights for too long would have her dozing off. Instead, she slipped into the back kitchen to check on the waitstaff who were having their dinner there.
Christina and Damien, her two best servers, were halfway through plates loaded with steak, fingerling potatoes, and green salad. It was a simple enough fare, which had surprised Liana when she first got the order. Families like the ones she served today could afford their food to be a little more gauche, but instead, they’d opted to keep it simple and light. The steaks, of course, were top quality, but they still could have ordered a seafood feast without batting an eyelid.
From the look on Christina’s face, though, simple and light were working.
“Liana,” Damien greeted. He waved a fork in her direction. “This wedding is going off without a hitch.”
She smiled and picked up one of his potatoes, chewing it slowly to savor the buttery fluffiness of it. She nearly closed her eyes in pleasure. Liana never ate during these events unless it was on the move. Too many things depended on her ability to solve problems as they sprang up. She didn’t have time to sequester herself in the kitchen unless there was some action in there. Since the chefs had all cleaned up and gone home, it was just her and her two employees. But the success of the evening had made her cocky. She wouldn’t sit down with a plate herself, but she would at least allow herself this moment of rest.
“Thanks, Damien.” Liana smiled. “You know it’s a group effort, though.” She chuckled at the thought of the last wedding they’d worked at when one of the guests had knocked over the roast beef serving station.
Christina chewed another mouthful, nodding thoughtfully. “I thought for sure it was all going to go to shit when the best man groped the bride’s mother,” she said. “But then everyone laughed, and I exhaled so forcefully I thought I’d blow out the candles at the table I was serving.”
“Language!” Liana reminded sternly, yet her mouth dipped up into a smile. “That was a pretty tense moment, though.”
Damien gestured toward the trays of food laid out further down the counter. “You should eat something,” he said. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you with a fork in your hand that hadn’t already been in someone’s mouth.”
Liana scowled at him. “Maybe don’t say it like that to other people. They might get the wrong idea.”
She looked between Damien and Christina, wondering how she could possibly feel so much older than them when they were all relatively close in age. She felt like their grumpy older sister most of the time. Damien’s big blue eyes and dark hair usually made him the fan favorite of the unattached women at these gigs. And many of the attached ones, if she were being honest. He had a button nose and a round jaw, though he towered above most people at a staggering 6’4” and thus could not be confused for a mere boy. Christina had mousy brown hair that Liana had only ever seen pulled back and black, thick-framed glasses. She was going to school for an engineering degree if Liana remembered correctly. Damien, on the other hand, was still figuring out what he wanted to do. And Liana? She knew where she wanted to be in life, but was just struggling to make it there.
“I should be getting back out there,” Liana said. She pointed sternly at the two servers. “Don’t be back here too long. It’s quieting down, but I want to start tidying up the tables in the next half hour or so.”
Damien saluted, and Christina nodded. Liana found that suited both of their personalities. She stepped back through the double doors into the back hallway of the hall, then through the ones that led back into the main party area.
Things were much as she’d left them. She picked up a stray spoon from the floor as she walked through; depositing it on a stack of plates another server was taking back to the kitchen.
The bride and groom were slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor, and Liana couldn’t help but look. She always got a bit emotional at weddings, even after working so many. Perhaps it was because she so badly wanted her own. Who was she kidding? It was definitely because of that. But it was hard to have a wedding without a groom. And it was hard to get a groom when one spent ninety percent of one’s time working or busting one’s ass trying to get singing gigs. But maybe that wouldn’t be her life for much longer. Liana had an upcoming gig in a lounge downtown, and she’d heard that a few talent scouts would be in the audience. If she were discovered and picked up by an agent, Liana would be out of the catering business and into the limelight.
That was the plan, at least.
Liana felt as though she were being watched, and directed her attention to the area around the bride and groom. She jolted in surprise as she found a pair of eyes coolly surveying her from the other side of the dance floor. And the eyes were part of a face so attractive she found her own flushing with embarrassment. She couldn’t be sure why, either. He was the one who was staring at her! She’d only been watching the happy couple dance. That wasn’t a crime, was it?
The man watching her had to be nearly as tall, if not exactly the same height as Damien. His suit looked almost identical to all the other penguin suits in attendance, except it fitted him like he’d had it tailored by elves. He looked to be around the same age as Liana, no more than thirty. His handsome face, with its aquiline nose and what she could already tell were very sensual lips, was framed by dark and ruffled hair. It looked soft.
But that was the only thing about him that looked soft. His cheekbones could have probably cut glass, and Liana was convinced he was using some sort of laser vision on her right now. How else could she explain how hot she felt under his gaze? And why hadn’t she turned away yet? She shouldn’t have been locked in a staring match with some man across the room. She should have been working, for Christ’s sake.
Liana tried to mentally shake herself, but her mind and body were at odds with one another. It didn’t matter how much she told her legs to move, or her eyes to look down, or her skin to stop tingling with tiny zaps of electricity—she was utterly entranced. The sound of shattering glass pulled her out of her hypnosis not a second too late. She immediately redirected her attention to the source of the sound.
A woman in her fifties, face red with inebriation, was laughing like a hyena by a shattered wine glass and a growing spill on the carpet. Damien got there first, but Liana was there soon after. He got down and began cleaning up the glass while Liana directed the woman over to a chair and made sure nobody stepped in the mess.
“So close,” Liana muttered.
Only Damien heard her. He chuckled lightly. “I still think we can count this one as a win,” he said. “It’s not a wedding until somebody breaks a glass.”
Someone tapped on Liana’s shoulder, startling her. She whirled, finding herself to be disappointed that it wasn’t the man from the dance floor. Of course, it wasn’t. She was stupid for hoping it would be in the first place. What was she? A lovestruck teenager?
The man in front of her was around the same age, but that was about where the similarities ended. He was still taller than Liana, but not by much. She was about 5’8”, and this man couldn't have been more than 5’11”. He had what could separately be seen as handsome features—a long, straight nose, wide, expressive eyes, and a square jaw—but somehow they didn’t seem to fit well together on his face. His curling lip was just a little too flat. His eyes just a little too far apart. And it was all topped off with a mop of curly, dark hair that was just a few shades too dark for his face. It looked like it had been dyed. She hadn’t met many men who dyed their hair, but she supposed it was only fair that they should be allowed to if she was.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said. “I was wondering if you could deliver this bottle of champagne to a friend of mine for me?”
She looked at the bottle in his outstretched hands and sighed. She wished he hadn’t put her in this position. Outside food and drinks were prohibited, as they usually were. The couple had paid for an open bar, and in those cases, people didn’t usually try to bring in anything of their own. But now she was being asked to deliver a bottle of champagne to a table?
“I’m not sure that I—”
“Please.” His tone was biting. “It would mean so much to me. It’s his favorite kind of champagne, and he is a dear, old friend.”
Liana narrowed her eyes in thought. If she denied him, he could make a scene. It wouldn’t matter then if outside drinks were allowed or not. All anyone would see was the caterer making a big deal out of a relatively small issue, thus causing a stir for no reason at a wedding.
She sighed. “Yes. I can take it. Who am I delivering to?”
The man’s eyes lit up with glee, and he pressed the dew-coated bottle into her hands. “That man over there.” He pointed to a man of similar age at a table on the other side of the dance floor. Her mystery admirer, whoever he had been, was nowhere in sight. “His name is Michael,” the man said. “You can tell him it’s a gift from Lando, a cousin from overseas.”
“Sure.” She smiled. “No problem.”
Lando turned and walked away without so much as a thank you. Liana gritted her teeth and looked over to where the recipient of the weird gift was sitting, running a hand through his sandy hair and laughing. He was talking to an older gentleman, maybe his father. Maybe just a stranger. It was hard to tell at these weddings. Everyone was so friendly to one another. It was almost so sweet it was sickly.
“You got this?” she asked Damien.
He looked up from where he was still soaking up the mess on the floor. “I’m nearly done here, yeah.”
She jiggled the bottle at him. “I’ve got to go deliver this.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“The guy I was just talking to gave it to me.” She gestured to where Lando had gone, but she couldn’t see him. “Didn’t you see him?”
Damien shrugged. “Must’ve zoned out. You know how I get when I’m cleaning.”
“Well keep your eyes up,” she instructed. “The last thing I need is for you to get trampled in the eleventh hour.”
He laughed and saluted her. She smiled and shook her head at the custom. Since she was only the supervisor, and sometimes acted as the assistant manager, she wasn’t really Damien’s boss. That being said, she was given lots of freedom in the company, since her boss knew she was an integral part of his success. Damien insisted on treating her like she was his captain or something like that. It was charming.
Michael’s eyes snapped onto Liana before she even made it to the table. His grin widened, and he gave a little nudge to the older man sitting beside him. Liana pretended she hadn’t seen it.
“You’re Michael?” she asked.
He nodded, eyes swimming with drunken euphoria. “The one and the only. How can I be of assistance?”
He was surprisingly eloquent for a man who had smudged lipstick on his jaw. Liana smiled. “I have a bottle of champagne for you. It’s a gift from your cousin Lando.”
“Lando?” Michael’s brow furrowed. Liana could see the gears working in his mind, trying to put a face to a name. He accepted the bottle anyway, looking at the label with a wide-mouthed grin. “Looks like we’ll be drinking like kings tonight, Herb.”
The old man beside him chuckled. “I’ve had more than enough for one evening, kid. I’m not a young stud anymore like you.”
“Suit yourself,” Michael replied. He turned to Liana just as she was about to leave. “Care to join me?”
Despite his drunkenness, Liana found Michael to be quite charming. And he was cute, too. She’d had less enticing offers in the past, but she was just as much on the clock as she’d been for the past few hours.
“I’m afraid not,” she replied. “Thank you, though.”
He gave her a thumbs up, and Liana was back to work. She scooped up a few empty wine glasses on her way back to the kitchen, where she intended to snag another one of those potatoes. She was starving. Though used to being hungry on the job, Liana was feeling a little indulgent tonight. She’d been stared at by one sexy stranger and hit on by another. The event was going well, too. Damien was right—one smashed glass was hardly a disaster.
Another couple of servers were in the kitchen when Liana went in. These two were less familiar to her. They were seasonal hires and ones that she hadn’t hired herself, either. They quieted as she entered, and nothing had ever made Liana feel more like a wet dish towel. She quickly walked to the tray of potatoes and scooped one out onto her palm, then smiled at the servers and exited stage left.
Liana chewed quickly, not wanting to still have food in her mouth by the time she reached the floor. She wished the kitchen had been unoccupied, so she could have taken a breather for a moment.
Liana stepped back into the room and glanced around. Everything seemed to have cooled down even further in the few minutes she’d been gone. Most of the tables were clear, and people were either dancing out on the floor or slumped next to each other around the tables, laughing or snoozing.
Liana felt that heat again, like someone was watching her, and looked off to the side. It was him again. The dark and mysterious man from across the dance floor. His intense stare seemed to last a lifetime, sending heat flashing down to places she shouldn’t have been feeling heat in while at work.
And then all hell broke loose.
Somebody screamed, and Liana’s attention darted in panic toward the source of it. Michael, who had been perfectly fine moments before, was choking at his table. His face was ashen. Liana bolted for him across the room, pushing people out of the way as gently as she could afford to do.
Chapter 2
Liana’s first aid training kicked in out of nowhere. She hadn’t thought about how to help someone who was choking in a long time, probably not since she’d last renewed her certificate. But now it was at the front of her mind. She needed to get him space. She needed someone to call 9-1-1. She needed to clear the obstruction from his throat if she could, though she doubted she’d be able to perform the Heimlich maneuver on a man of his size. He had toppled over onto the floor by the time she reached him, and he seemed to be... convulsing? People who were choking didn’t convulse.