Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1)

by Lili Porter

  “Thanks, so do you,” Kari said to him.

  Paolo was still holding Kari’s hand and now his thumb was slowly rubbing her palm. He didn’t want to remove it. Then, without warning and certainly unplanned, he leaned in and kissed her forehead softly. “Thank you for accepting my invitation. I’m sorry about the paparazzi out front.”

  “Oh, don’t be. Welcome to my life. It’s just part of the deal, Paolo.”

  He chuckled. “Are you okay? Forgive me, I should have gone out to see about you myself. I thought I might make things less complicated by remaining inside,” he said.

  Karisma was touched by his thoughtfulness. She liked him. “No worries, it’s cool. You had some serious backup out there. They handled it and got me inside safely.”

  They stared at each other for a moment longer and then he moved his hand to the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit down,” he said softly.

  “Okay, and thank you for the roses, by the way. They’re absolutely stunning. Yellow, too, my favorite.”

  “Which is odd since you’re known for red,” Paolo said.

  “You’ve been doing your research,” Karisma said with a smile. Touché, she thought.

  “Guilty as charged,” Paolo said, holding the chair out for Kari to sit down in. “Would you like me to take your jacket?”

  “That’s okay, it’s a bit chilly in here. I’ll keep it on.”

  Paolo was heating up, not feeling cold. “Let me adjust the thermostat,” he said quickly.

  “No, Paolo, I’m good. Really. I’ll warm up.” She observed that the tablecloth and napkins were beige linen, but everything else, including the cutlery and china, were trimmed in gold. Even the centerpiece candles were gold. “This room looks a lot like the ballroom from last night.” She saw him smile and then a flash of awareness dawned on her face. “Oh, I get it now. A lovely re-creation, and on such short notice.”

  “Too much?” he asked, sitting down.

  “Not at all. It’s beautiful and thoughtful.”

  “I had time to take in the look from last night waiting for you to show up,” Paolo said.

  “Some would say the diva has to make a grand appearance, but that really isn’t the case. There are just always so many things to tend to,” Karisma said. She wasn’t about to confess that she always got a bit anxious before such events and needed a few minutes to prepare for them.

  There was a slight lull and Kari looked around. “So this is yours, huh? The restaurant?”

  “The family’s, yes, for about a year now.” Paolo was seated across from Kari so he could look at her and observe all her mannerisms.

  As if rehearsed, a waiter came in through the door at that exact moment with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Paolo looked over to the waiter briefly, sensing Karisma taking advantage of that fleeting moment to look at him. When he looked back at her, she smiled at him, with an adorable blush. Busted!

  “Do you like champagne, Karisma? It’s a Bollinger,” Paolo said.

  “Very much,” she replied.

  The waiter poured the champagne into both glasses and Paolo raised his glass to hers. She returned the salute, and they took a sip.

  Another server walked into the room with two bottles of Perrier water. “Thank you,” Karisma said. She smiled at the waiter and noticed that he was looking at her appreciatively, staring at her, momentarily distracted from his work. Flipping over the water goblets, he twisted off the bottle caps and poured the carbonated liquid with smooth, swift accuracy.

  “Very nice,” she said, taking another drink and looking toward the windows. They went from the floor to the ceiling. There wasn’t much of a view, just other establishments, and people hurrying to and fro, up and down the Sunset Strip. She was glad the windows were tinted and one way, as it helped to ensure their privacy. She didn’t want any gawkers watching her eat. Then she looked up and saw a large crystal chandelier looming above them. “Earthquake country,” she said simply. That elicited a bout of laughter from him.

  “Do you want me to move the table?” he asked her.

  “No, we probably won’t have one. Earthquake, that is.” She smiled broadly at him. He grinned back at her and chortled into his drinking glass.

  “You are beautiful, Miss Montgomery,” he said directly as he smiled and shook his head.

  She blushed and her long eyelashes fluttered. “So, you’ve recently acquired FutureShock. I’d like to hear about how that happened,” she said, attempting to change the subject.

  “Well,” he began, “one day, the opportunity presented itself, and being the businessman that I am, I couldn’t turn it down. I run it with Davit and Daniel.”

  “Ah, the twins. Are there just the three of you?” she inquired.

  “We have two older brothers back home. I’m the middle son,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Where’s home?” she asked, playing it off like she hadn’t read anything about him.

  “Home is Italy. Reggio, Calabria. My parents and older brothers are there.” He nodded, and then added, “Davit, Danny, and I have been in the US for about a decade. We went to college here. My two older brothers were educated in Italy. One’s a priest.” He broke out into a grin with the statement.

  “Wow, a priest! What made him want to be a priest?” she asked.

  He frowned like he remembered something painful before answering. “Probably because of the day he decided to nail me to a cross.”

  He took a sip of water and a waiter re-entered the room, leaving Karisma hanging in suspense. Was he serious? She had to find out. She leaned in to the table and asked, incredulously, “Did you just say that your brother nailed you to a cross?”

  “You heard me correctly. You should see your face,” he laughed. “As you can see, I’m fine now, no visible scars.”

  “Visible…hmm,” she said, laughing. She couldn’t allow her imagination to get carried away with where the hidden scars might be on that fine physique.

  Paolo nodded to the waiter. “We’ll have the appetizers now,” he said.

  The waiter nodded first at Paolo and then to Karisma, and then walked out.

  “Okay, back to this cross thing. Why did he do that?” She was frowning, but wanted to laugh, too. Who’d ever heard of such a thing?

  Paolo uncrossed one leg and crossed the other while unbuttoning his grey silk suit jacket. He snickered. “He was a bully growing up. Liked to fight. Would always tell my parents we were ‘boxing’ when he’d get caught. They made him stop so he started a game called Jesus and The Romans.”

  Karisma frowned and raised an eyebrow. Was he playing her?

  “True story,” Paolo added. “So one day we decided to make a cross. And we did, out of these wood planks we found in the garage. We got some nails and a hammer and made that sucker. When we were finished, he asked me and my brother Raffaelo, ‘So, which one of you is gonna be Jesus?’ Rafie was like, ‘Not me.’ As for me, well, I always wanted to show him I was as tough as he was so when he looked at me, I said, ‘I’ll be Jesus.’ So I laid on the cross and Armando said, ‘I’m gonna nail you to the cross, but it won’t hurt, okay?’”

  “And you believed him?” Karisma asked.

  “Sadly, yes, I did. Anyway, I was looking at the hammer and nails and at Rafie, who looked real scared, but I still did it, just adding that I didn’t want him to hit my hand hard.”

  “Oh, my gawd! How old were you?” she asked.

  “I was eight, Armando was eleven. So he said, ‘You ready?’ and before I could even answer he drove the nail into my hand. I screamed bloody fucking murder and Rafie took off running and screaming. Mando didn’t hit me again because he was freaked out, too. He panicked and pulled the nail out and threw it. It hadn’t gone through all the way, but it hurt like hell. I was crying and screaming and holding my hand. I got up and started running to the house and was met by my mom and aunts, who were running toward me. One of my aunts had a dishtowel and wrapped it around my hand and then drove me into t
own to the hospital to get stitches. Well, when we got back, it wasn’t done, yet. My mom had kicked Mando’s butt and gave me one harsh scolding for being so stupid as to do what he said…and now, he’s Father Armando. He has a church in Brancaleone, Calabria. See, I still have my scar. Just like Jesus.”

  He raised his left hand to show her and she shivered. “I thought you said no visible scars?”

  “I’m so used to it that I think of it as more a part of me than anything else,” Paolo justified.

  “Oh my gawd!” she exclaimed. “That’s crazy. Are you two okay? You tight?”

  “Well, as tight as one can be with a priest. We’re fine, though. It’s a classic story, one that he’s told to his congregation and now, it’s also one I use when I’m trying to get to know the highly attractive Karisma Montgomery.”

  Karisma started laughing. “You have a way about you, Paolo, that’s for certain.” Then she shivered again, but from adrenaline, not a chill, but he didn’t take it that way.

  “Turn up the thermostat. Miss Montgomery is cold.”

  “Si,” the waiter said and walked out.

  “Now, you are the oldest of three, right?” he asked her.

  “Yes, there’s me, Karlton and Karla Ann. They’re twins, like your brothers,” she winked and sipped her champagne.

  “That’s quite the coincidence. So which of your parents’ name begins with a K?” he asked, his lips twitching with amusement.

  “Neither. They’re Liane and Vaughn. Go figure,” she shrugged her small shoulders. She brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face.

  He wanted to stroke her hair and face. Instead, he sat up, clearing his throat and said, “Your brother is a great football player. He plays for my alma mater.”

  “USC?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know.

  “Yep,” he nodded with a smile that showed all of his teeth. She smiled back at him and they gazed at one another a long while, feeling very comfortable in each other’s presence.

  Within a few minutes they were eating fried risotto balls and balsamic bruschetta. It was delicious and the light conversation was intoxicating to Karisma. Or was it the champagne? She wasn’t much of a drinker and she felt a tad bit light headed as she sipped down the last of her second glass. Lord, please don’t let me start giggling, she thought. She set down the flute and reached for the water.

  “This food is amazing,” Karisma said. “I love it.”

  “We have some wonderful chefs. Why is it that you have never eaten here before?” Paolo asked.

  She looked into his jeweled eyes and what she felt wasn’t really curiosity about the question, so much as an intensity in him that was very alluring. He was focused on her, solely and completely, like she was the only woman in the world.

  “I’m not sure, really. I’ve seen it before, and I probably intended to get in here at some point, but I can’t tell you what kept me from it. I’m very pleasantly surprised.”

  He licked his bottom lip in response to her statement and she wasn’t sure if that was a habit or a seductive move. Regardless, it was sexy as hell.

  “Well, I’m very happy that you’re here,” he said. “So tell me, Karisma Montgomery, how does it feel to have one of the most famous faces on the planet? Having the press ridiculously follow you around the way they do? What is it like to be you?”

  Karisma had heard that question a thousand times, but mostly from reporters. Not from someone like Paolo. She sensed that he didn’t have any angle other than getting to know her better. She thought about his question. “My life is extraordinary. And I mean that in a good way. But it’s unnatural in a way, despite being ordinary to me now. Does that make sense?” He looked at her and nodded that it did. “Right now, my phone is vibrating, and it has been since I walked in here. It’s usually Chris, but it could be my assistant, or my agent, or my parents, maybe my sister, it might even be Wolfe. And because everything’s going to voicemail, they’re probably all calling each other to find out what’s going on. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. And I have over a hundred million followers on Twitter. So, this lunch invitation is a treat, one that I am grateful for. Thank you for it.”

  “You’re welcome,” Paolo said. He reached over for the bottle and grabbed Kari’s flute, ready to fill up her glass again.

  “Oh, no more, thanks.”

  “Don’t you like it?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

  “It’s wonderful. I’m just not a big drinker,” Kari replied.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “So, how do you manage having over a hundred million followers on Twitter?”

  “A PR firm helps,” Kari said, laughing, “but I do like to throw my own messages out there.”

  “How do they know what’s from you?”

  “Everything with a KM at the end shows it’s personal. I really appreciate my fans a lot and don’t ever want them to forget it.”

  He whistled. “You’re a hard working young woman, Karisma.”

  “Yes, I work very hard, especially during awards season. We want to get nominated and we’ve been pretty blessed, but it makes for one chaotic schedule.” She gave him a wry smile. “Like I said, I’m grateful, but I do get tired.”

  “I understand that. When do you take a real break? Time for just you?” Paolo asked.

  “I don’t really have a break coming, not in the foreseeable future, anyway. We have a lot of appearances on talk shows, a few photo shoots, and some charity events over the next few weeks. Plus, we have a lot of rehearsals for when we go back out on tour next month.”

  “Twelve weeks, right? Where to?” Paolo asked, leaning forward and trying to be as close to Kari as possible. He almost wished he’d sat next to her, not across from her.

  “It's a European tour. We’re hitting just about all the major cities. We’ll be in Italy the middle of April.” She smiled that beautiful smile again and took a sip of her water. “Did I answer your question?”

  “Yes,” he said with a charming, devilish grin. “You live an extraordinarily ordinary life which is quite unnaturally natural. I get it.”

  The main entrée’s arrived and Kari was enjoying herself immensely, both the food and the company. She didn’t want the afternoon to end, but alas, it did.

  It was clear that the two were attracted to each other, with easy flowing conversations and flirty undertones. “So, now, Mr. Montovani, what is this business proposition you wanted to ask me about?”

  He smiled, remembering the excuse for asking her to the restaurant. “Aw, my proposition,” he said as he leaned back in the chair, crossing his long leg, “is to see if you would be willing to do a cameo on one of the new tunes Oliver the Poet is working on. It’s tailor made for your voice and when I heard it, I thought of you.”

  “Just me, or Goldust?” she asked.

  “You. Unless you have a problem with appearing without them.”

  “No, that’s not a problem. Who wrote it?” she asked.

  “He did. He writes most of his music, it seems.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that. Okay, get it to me, I’ll listen to it and we can go from there. I’m not sure about your schedule, but it might be tough to get it to work out before the tour. And you realize, I don’t come cheap, right?” she teased with a raised eyebrow.

  “Cheap is a word I’d never consider in reference to you, Miss Montgomery. Thank you for considering this. It’s a good song and I think you’ll like it, but first things first. You’ve got to hear the track, right?”

  “Right,” Kari said softly, feeling disappointed that the business part didn’t take long at all. She’d wanted to stay there, enjoying this exciting new man, who would undoubtedly become a hot sought after commodity in a short time once everyone realized who he was, and what he looked like.

  She took out a card from her small clutch and a pen and wrote her email and cell number on the back and handed it over to Paolo. “Okay,” she said with a shy smile.

  He openly studied her.
She looked away coyly. “What’s wrong?” He reached out and put his hand under her chin and her skin felt smooth and velvety.

  “Nothing. I’m relaxed. Comfortable,” she said. “Well, I better go, before Wolfe comes looking.”

  “Wolfe?” he said, scrunching his brows close.

  “My driver and bodyguard, the one that’s probably sitting out in the hallway with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He’s tough on the outside and excellent at what he does, but he does have a soft side, too,” she said, laughing gently. Then she picked up her phone to text Wolfe and was surprised to see that it was already 3:30 PM. She’d been there for over two hours.

  Wolfe texted her back: I’ll start the car and meet you at the door.

  “I didn’t walk you in, but let me walk you out,” Paolo said, standing up and walking over to Kari and helping to slide her chair back.

  “I had a wonderful time,” she said.

  He stopped before opening the door. Turning her toward him, he told her, “I enjoyed myself, as well.”

  Neither of them spoke and they stood still for a brief moment. The room was quiet except for the soft Italian music playing on the piped in system. She saw him swallow and his Adam’s apple bobbed. She looked up at his face.

  “So, a month, huh?” he asked and she nodded, never taking her eyes off him. “Do you think you can fit me into your schedule?”

  She couldn’t answer. She was too focused on the beautiful eyes that bore into her.

  He leaned in and his lips brushed her forehead like they had when she got there, and then he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You smell so good.”

  She felt warmness in the pit of her stomach that radiated throughout her body. Nervously, she smiled and bit into her bottom lip. His sapphire eyes followed the movement and soon his head was lowering to her lips. His hand gently brushed her cheek and he looked into her eyes as if to make sure it was alright. When she looked at his lips, too, he crushed his mouth to hers. It wasn’t a hard kiss, actually, it was both slow and thoughtful. A full, open mouth kiss, that had her standing on her tip toes even in her platform heels.