by Chloe Blake
“Oh, where is he?”
She pointed to the dining room and Dani assumed he was a server. Quick flashes of memories assaulted her. Marcello standing over her with his hands on his hips, shaking his head when her mother begged him to watch her while she was at work. She mopped, she chopped, she was dead on her feet when her mother came back to the hotel. But Dani had loved it and volunteered to do it daily.
“Well, I don’t allow loiterers in my kitchen. If you want to be here, you’ve got to help out.”
Dani prepared for attitude. Instead the young girl turned off her phone and shrugged. “Va bene.”
The hours went by quickly, with Toni being a gracious host and the kitchen pumping out seven courses of delight. His knowledge of wine was impressive, and unyielding, arguing with Dani over her recommendations for each dish. Finally she gave up, but she noticed he took one of her suggestions, conceding only with a slight nod. It reminded her of their first meeting and she schooled herself to concentrate.
It was two in the morning when the last customer left and Dani and her crew were scouring the grills, mopping the floors and wiping down the burners, all with the hope that Marcello would be all right and the kitchen would see another day.
Toni came through the doors carrying soiled linens and instructing the waitstaff to close up the dining room. He stopped when he saw her, threw the linens on the floor and pulled her into a bear hug. She kept her soapy hands in the air, but the rest of her body reveled in the feel of him. He pulled back slowly and looked into her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He then turned to the whole staff and praised them, making everyone join in a round of applause. His gaze ran over the staff and paused.
“Sophia, are my eyes deceiving me? You are cleaning?”
The teen stood with a mop in her hand.
“You know her?” Dani asked.
“Come,” Toni said to the girl, arm outstretched. Mop in tow, Sophia fit her slim frame against Toni’s. “Dani, this is my daughter, Sophia. Sophia, this is Danica, a friend of mine and Marcello’s.”
Dani looked at Toni in wonder. He’d never mentioned a daughter, but she supposed she’d never asked. Suddenly the resemblance was uncanny. Sophia was tall for her age and those eyes were definitely his. She was going to be stunning, Dani thought.
“Nice to meet you, Sophia,” Dani said as they politely shook hands. “Thanks for helping out.”
“Now, I see you missed a spot over there,” Toni teased Sophia, giving her a kiss on the head as the girl resumed mopping across the room. “How did you get her to clean?”
Dani shrugged. “I asked her.”
“Humph,” Toni said. Sophia always balked at chores.
“She’s beautiful.”
His smile was pride itself. “Yes, thank you.”
“Do you have any more?”
“No.” His head whipped around. “Do you?”
Dani shook her head, remembering that Andre didn’t want kids, so she assumed she wouldn’t have any. Now that things had changed, could kids be in her future? Her stomach made an embarrassing sound. Suddenly she was starving, since her plan to have dinner had turned into cooking dinner for fifty people.
“I’m starving. Have you eaten?”
Toni placed a hand over his stomach. “Not since lunch.” He eyes darkened and he smirked. “Are you going to cook for me?”
Dani half smiled. He’d said the same thing at the wedding, but at the time her answer had been a resounding no. “I’m going to heat some things up for you. I think you’ve earned it.”
“You honor me, Chef.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dani heated up a simple pasta marinara. Most of the staff had finished cleaning and gone, leaving Dani, Toni and Sophia to their late-night dinner. Toni’s sounds of pleasure as he enjoyed her pasta assaulted her senses in a myriad of ways. She was pleased, a little too pleased, that he loved her cooking, but the sounds he was making were reminiscent of their night together. She was glad Sophia was there as a buffer.
“You can cook, Dani.”
“Well, thank you, Toni. It’s just marinara.”
“I really like it too,” Sophia chimed in, sitting on the island swinging her legs.
“Yes, but what’s in it?”
“Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Toni’s eyes widened. “Top Gun. You just Top Gunned me.”
Dani laughed. “I did. Sorry, Goose.”
“Goose?” Toni’s head jerked back. “Did you see me out there tonight? I was Maverick.”
“I’m Maverick, obviously.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“What’s a ‘Maverick’?” Sophia asked, forking more into her mouth.
Toni swallowed. “It’s an ’80s film about fighter pilots.”
“Oh! Yeah, I think I saw it with Mamma.”
Dani noticed Toni’s eyes darken a bit and she was reminded that he was divorced. A silence descended as the trio finished their meals. Dani stretched out her hand for their empty plates, but Toni took hers instead.
“The cook doesn’t clean,” he murmured, staring at her lips. She felt that look between her legs.
He and Sophia shared the sink and left their clean plates to dry in the rack. Then Toni tossed a towel on the counter and turned to both girls.
“I’m going to stop by the hospital. Who’s game?”
“I am,” Sophia shouted. All Dani saw were long legs and hair as Sophia gathered her things then disappeared into the bathroom.
“How is she not tired? She’s lucky it’s the weekend,” Dani said to Toni with a smile.
Her smile faulted when she looked into Toni’s eyes, something dark behind them. He glanced at the closed bathroom door, then came for Dani. In three strides he was in front of her, cupping her face, capturing her lips with his, his tongue commanding her own. The kiss was fire and burn, filled with months of pent-up longing, at least it was for her, but by the way he was eating at her mouth and pressing her body into his, she’d say if his daughter wasn’t there, he’d have her back down and legs spread on the kitchen island.
He pulled his lips just inches from hers. “Are you seeing someone?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Good.”
They heard the door click and, just as quickly as the kiss started, it ended in a rush of breath and blinking eyelids. Toni pulled his body away from hers and walked calmly toward the door. Dani slowly turned around, acting like she was gathering towels when she was really trying to calm her breathing.
Sophia stood by the bathroom, her eyes darting between them. “Pronto?”
“Ready,” Dani said under her breath.
Chapter 7
When Toni explained to the hospital staff that they were family, a kind nurse took pity and let them in Marcello’s room. They were quiet, feeling better being by his side. But the stress of the day finally got to all of them, and one by one they all dozed in their chairs.
Dani woke and raised her head from the hospital wall. She blinked against the grogginess of jet lag and pure exhaustion from the night before. The room was dim, but a sliver of daylight shone through the closed curtains. Steps away, Marcello lay in a deep sleep hooked up to beeping monitors, and her mind ran through the events from the night before.
Marcello had almost died.
She relived seeing him lying on the floor and wheezing out the word kitchen. Was that what he cared about most? Dani thought back to what Andre had said to her, that all she thought about was the kitchen. That wasn’t true...was it? Would she be dying on the floor one day using her last breath to say “kitchen”? Nothing about that thought was appealing.
Then there was Toni. That kiss. She turned her head and found him at the other end of the room slouched in his c
hair, his eyes closed and head resting on the wall. He was too tall and broad for the small metal frame and she suspected he’d be feeling pains in his back later. Sophia was curled up in the chair next to him, her body leaning into his. A protective arm was slung around her.
Long deep breaths came through his slightly parted lips, emphasizing his sensual mouth. He had a beautiful easy smile that had charmed even the hardest customer in the restaurant. By the end of the night everyone knew his name, and loved him.
Kind of like Andre, she winced. Charming the ladies right out of their pants.
But she hadn’t expected Toni to be so competent and collected. Men like him wanted attention, nothing more. And yet he’d served more dishes and poured more wine than the staff. Eight hours on his feet without complaint. Andre never worked that hard a day in his life.
Are you seeing someone?
Grabbing her little bag she quietly found the bathroom and recoiled from her reflection. Her flawless night-out makeup had melted down her face, settling into creases around her eyes that didn’t need to be emphasized. Baby hairs frizzed around her face. And her lips were drained of color.
And she smelled. She had worked too hard and long for there not to be a tinge of BO, but her beautiful dress had also absorbed every splatter and aroma from the kitchen. She pulled the soft band from her hair and shook out the waves over her shoulders. Yeah, her hair got it too.
Dani ran the hot water and prepared for a thorough whore’s bath in the sink. She placed her hands under the water and pulled back at the sharp sting. Burns, she’d forgotten them. Tiny fresh marks from oil splashes and hot plates. They were a chef’s badges of honor and she’d gotten used to them appearing in all sorts of places on her body, but she had no ointment to rub on them. Maybe she could trouble a nurse for some.
She pumped the little hospital soap dispenser and in only a few minutes she was fresh faced with her damp hair up and smelling like medical grade hospital soap rather than a garbage dump. Digging in her little clutch, she pulled out a nude lipstick and felt like a woman again with each glide over her lips.
Satisfied that she no longer looked like a zombie chef, she tiptoed back into the room intending to go into the hallway and call her mother. Instead she walked straight into Toni’s solid chest.
He was gripping his phone and although it was still dark she could see the concern in his bright eyes. “Are you all right?” he whispered. Sophia and Marcello both still slept.
She nodded and held up her phone in silent communication. He nodded back and they both softly shuffled into the lit hallway.
“I need to call my mother,” Dani said when the door shut behind them.
While she was working, her mother had sent several texts, the last one a sarcastic plea: You better be with a man.
She didn’t know whether it was good or bad that after long absences her mother had never assumed she was dead or dying. Dani had “run away” when she was ten. It was Paris Fashion Week and in protest of being left again with the hotel housekeeper, Dani had run down to the parking garage and hid behind a cluster of bins. Where she fell asleep for hours.
Knowing she was in trouble, little Dani ran back to her hotel room and walked through the door to find the hotel manager, a policeman and the maid who was watching her—all sighs and relief to see her safe. The maid had actually dropped to her knees in tears.
Her mother? On the couch in her pink silk lingerie set and heeled slippers, reading the evening paper. Francesca had half lowered the paper and peered at Dani over a bent corner.
See, she’s fine. Just out exploring. Thank you all so much for coming, but I must get some sleep. Dumbstruck, the group had filed out, but not before the maid kissed Dani on the head. Dani had bet she would make a good mother one day.
Alone in the room, neither moving from their prospective positions, Dani had crossed her arms. You don’t care about me!
Of course I do, don’t be ridiculous. And is that grease on your shirt? You better get in the shower before you come tracking all that stuff in here.
I could have been killed!
But you weren’t.
Someone could have taken me!
Francesca had rolled her eyes. This is Paris, not New York. There is no better place to get lost.
You weren’t even worried!
Her mother had stomped across the room in her heels and stood her five-foot-eight-inch frame in front of Dani. Dani had dropped her arms and prepared to run. Did you see all of those people I called? Yes, I was worried, but stress lines on this face won’t do, young lady. You are going to stop this nonsense. And that maid is going to be fired for letting you out of her sight. Dani had gasped and run to her room.
“Hey, where’d you go just now?” Toni was standing close, his voice low and a frown on his handsome face.
“Sorry, I’m just tired.”
“I bet. You were incredible last night. I don’t know what we would have done had you not been there. Fate, no?”
She shook her head and shrugged. Fate? She’d just call it coincidence. “I’m just glad I could help.”
“I was in New York recently. I had made reservations at Via L’Italy.” His hands went into his pockets. “I wanted to say hello, but my plans got cut short.” He frowned, trying to make sense of it. “And here you are, saving my family. I say fate. You must be some sort of angel.”
She paused, glad he hadn’t come to L’Italy, preferring he not know that she was a ghost chef. Or that she and Andre had been lovers.
“I’m no angel, Toni. I think you know that. I’m just a chef—who needs to call her mother.” She lifted her hand and waved her phone. His hands flew from his pockets and grabbed her hand.
“Angel, what is this?”
“What? Oh, it’s just a burn.” She winced when he touched it. Then his hands ran up her forearm and over the colors of the tattoo, frowning at the bumpy texture of her skin there. The burn had been so bad that the skin had scarred, so her father created some artwork for her and covered it up.
Toni’s gaze scanned the hall and then focused. He shouted at someone and in a blur of activity several nurses arrived and ushered her into a florescent room. Several coats of ointment and one bandage later, Dani’s burns no longer stung.
“Let me see,” he said when she emerged, slowly inspecting their work as if he would make them do it over if he wasn’t pleased. He nodded his approval. Toni walked to the other end of the hall and made a call. Dani did the same. Her mother picked up on the third ring.
“You know how I feel about worry lines, Danica.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.” She explained the events of the night.
“Well, I know how you feel about Marcello. Is he going to be all right?”
“I’m not sure, he hasn’t woken up yet. But he’s stable.”
“And who is this man who helped you?”
“Toni, Marcello’s nephew. He’s part owner.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is he cute?”
From the corner of her eye Dani watched Toni slide his phone in his pocket and walk back down the hall toward Marcello’s room. He looked pale and his broad shoulders slumped with fatigue. He fought a yawn and rubbed at his jawline, disturbing his perfectly lined beard.
His long legs carried him gracefully and his muscular thighs stretched at the fabric as he walked back and disappeared through the hospital room door. She recalled that he had to have his suits customized to fit his length. He’d need a custom bed, she thought, briefly recalling his naked form tangled in white sheets.
“Are you still there?”
“Sorry, yes.”
“Well? Is he?”
Suddenly the door to the room opened and Toni jerked his head toward the inside. His wide smile touched the light in his eyes. He’s beautiful, she thought. May
be too beautiful for a woman like her.
“Umm...he’s okay. Look I have to go, I think Marcello is awake. I’ll see you later.”
“I hope so, but I’m leaving for hair and makeup after lunch. The Chanel show is at 7 p.m., Danica. Wear something fabulous. If I don’t see you before then I’ll leave your pass on the table.”
“Okay. I love—” She heard the click and sighed, then walked back to Marcello’s room.
* * *
Marcello’s eyes were slits under bushy white brows and his voice was more gravelly than usual, but the grip the old man had on Toni’s hand was strong. He’ll be okay, Toni thought-wished.
“Do you remember what happened?” Toni half whispered, careful not to wake Sophia.
Marcello nodded, gesturing for water, which Toni poured quickly and handed to him. “The restaurant,” Marcello said after a few sips from his paper cup. “What happened?”
“We took care of it, but I don’t think you should worry about this now.”
“Who cooked?” Marcello barked, color coming back to his cheeks.
“Gianni walked out, so your old friend Danica stepped in.”
Marcello smiled like a proud father. “How was she?”
“She’s a remarkable chef. A bit stubborn. Too precise when it comes to plating. Obviously the dishes had an American twist to them, but overall it was successful.”
“Wow, I feel like I just got graded by a substitute teacher,” Dani said behind him, flashing Toni a dark look. “Marcello,” Dani whispered with tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
Toni stepped back as Dani and Marcello embraced and Toni caught a tear in Marcello’s eye, as well. Because he had no children of his own, Marcello had spoiled Toni rotten. He had the feeling he’d done the same to Dani too.
“Let me see your hands,” Marcello asked Dani. Marcello always said burns were his badges. A real chef had scars. Marcello inspected the marks on her hands, then pulled her fingers to his lips for a fatherly kiss. “Now, tell me, what did you make last night?”
Letting them catch up, Toni sat down and put a hand on his sleeping daughter. He looked forward to the day they could talk like Marcello and Dani were, instead of this constant push-pull of rules and values.