by Chloe Blake
“Well, I can’t talk. You haven’t lived your life if you haven’t made a dozen mistakes.”
“Oh my God, Mother.”
Toni laughed. “It’s all right. I find the frankness refreshing.”
Francesca winked and touched Toni’s arm in apology. “Forgive my American charm. And how is Marcello? The poor dear. I sent flowers to the hospital, the least I could do for taking care of Dani while I worked all those years. He was like a second father.”
“Or a first father, since Dad had gone back to Sweden.”
“Oh, Danica.” Francesca frowned. “Your father is a creative soul.” Then she turned to Toni “They’re hard to pin down, which makes then so exciting I guess.”
“You should visit Marcello,” Danica admonished, giving him the impression they’d spoken of the subject before.
“And if I wrap early tomorrow I will. Case closed.” She turned to Toni. “Now tell me about this restaurant that will be taking up my daughter’s time.”
“Speaking of time,” Dani interrupted, “we should go. You need your rest.”
“You go. Toni and I are going to have one more drink.” Mother and daughter stared each other down for a moment before Dani’s gaze shifted to Toni’s.
After the loaded moment passed, Dani set her empty glass on the bar. “Good night, then.” With a bland smile, Dani quickly moved through the bar and quit the hotel. Toni watched, fighting the urge to go after her.
When his attention came back to Francesca, she was staring at him with a half-cocked smile and an outstretched glass of whiskey. “Now, you and I have some business to discuss.”
Toni froze as she pinned him with her heavily lashed gaze. This can’t be good.
* * *
“Who does that woman think she is?” Ava jammed the keys into the lock of her front door and stomped inside. It was after midnight, and Ava had griped about Dani’s mother the entire ride home. Toni lifted his gaze to the dark second-story window of Sophia’s bedroom, and then he crossed the threshold and softly closed the door behind him.
The neighbor’s daughter appeared in the foyer with her things, waiting for her payment. Toni hesitated a second to see if Ava would reappear, then gave the poor girl a wad of bills. He found Ava barefoot in the kitchen with a bottle of wine in her hand banging through the cupboards.
“Shhh! Sophia’s asleep.” He frowned at her erratic behavior. “What are you looking for?”
“The opener.”
“You’re opening a bottle now? It’s after midnight and you have a shoot tomorrow.”
She twisted the corkscrew into the top, then tugged it out. “You sound like my mother. I just need one more drink to put me to sleep. And you, my love, are gonna have one with me.”
He ignored the pet name. Toni didn’t want another drink; he wanted to run screaming. Toni frowned as Ava poured them both a glass. “Did you check on Sophia?”
“No,” she simply said.
Toni closed his eyes in frustration, then kicked off his shoes and quietly climbed the stairs. He softly opened his daughter’s bedroom door and smiled at the chaos her sheets had gone through since she was a toddler. He headed back downstairs and found Ava lounging in the living room, her glass of wine to her lips.
“She’s asleep,” Toni said. Another glass was waiting on the coffee table. “I’m going to head out.”
“Your drink!” she called after him.
“You drink it, Ava. I’m tired.”
Toni barely opened the front door when Ava shoved herself against it, blocking his way out.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t you ever think about us?” The sultry tone in her voice made alarm bells go off in his head.
“Not for a long time.”
“Well, what if I told you I still loved you?”
“I’d say, what about your new boyfriend?”
“We broke up.” He could have predicted that.
“I see.”
She slid her body against his then and pursed her lips on his mouth. Startled, he gently closed his hands around her shoulders and peeled her body from his, and then he slowly pulled his head back and gazed into her eyes. Her cherry-red lips were soft and her small breasts teased his chest. There should have been a spark or a flutter of something he felt for her long ago. Nothing. He felt nothing. And by the darkening of her eyes, she suspected as much.
“Are you in love with that chef?”
Toni balked. “Why would you say that.”
“Sophia can’t stop talking about her and you couldn’t leave her side all night!”
“That is ridiculous. I owe her a debt. I told you what she did for us.”
“Then what is it? I heard you’ve been seeing that teacher at school. Is it true?”
“I saw her a few times,” he said with a heavy sigh.
Ava jerked back. “Think about Sophia!” Toni didn’t like rising to the anger in a woman’s voice, but Ava’s shrill tone always sent him over the edge.
“She is all I think about. Are you thinking about her when you are out all night with new boyfriends every six weeks?” he snapped, then regretted it instantly.
Ava burst into tears and Toni wanted to hit something.
“How did we get here?” she said in between sobs. Toni worried Sophia would come down and see her mother crying. He grabbed Ava and hugged her close.
“Please, let’s talk about this when you aren’t a little drunk. We are doing well raising our daughter, I don’t want to ruin it.”
“We could be a family again,” she half whispered.
Could they? Would that be best for Sophia? Ava’s glassy gaze pleaded with him, making him feel like a bad guy. He wasn’t the one who was coming home drunk when Sophia was a baby. He wasn’t the one who cheated.
The air between them got thinner. If she could finally change, could there be a chance?
Chapter 10
The Naviglio Grande canal at night always took Dani’s breath away. Romantically lit by dim streetlights, the oldest canal in Milan attracted its share of tourists, but late night boasted more locals enjoying live music and an array of food specialties. She ignored most of the soliciting from the restaurants and shopkeepers as she strolled along the canal.
Tables overlooking the water were full of family-style dishes, carafes of wine and rounds of group laughter. Charming boutiques sold an array of goods and live music filled the air.
She had her heart set on traditional Milanese cuisine. A little shellfish, maybe some veal. The perfect after 10 p.m. meal. Maybe she would snap a picture and send it to her mother. Dani rolled her eyes as she recalled the embarrassment of her mother’s declaration. It had been years since Dani had followed that suggestion by her mother’s dietitian.
Because it was a load of crap. Maybe it worked for nine-to-fivers, but Dani never ate while she was working—there was no time. Family meal for the restaurant she used to work in was at 4 p.m., which meant from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m., normal dinner service and clean-up hours, she was lucky to get a coffee in her system.
Those were the days that reinforced how disappointed her mother was to have a plus-size daughter. Her mother still hadn’t gotten over it.
Would Francesca be asleep by now? Or would she have seduced Toni back to her hotel room? Dani thought her mother had grown out of that whole younger men phase and moved on to aging billionaires, but she could see her mother making an exception for Toni. Why else would she stay at the party?
His suit had been tailored to perfection, emphasizing his long legs and broad shoulders. She remembered his body: tall and lean, similar to a swimmer. Not overly muscular, but strong. She felt a quiver as she remembered when he lifted her off her feet. Call it a litmus test of sorts, but she liked to know that if she fell unconscious in a burning building that her man could c
arry her out. She chuckled to herself, imagining him carrying her limp naked body, and then she admonished herself for entertaining Toni as her man at all.
The guy didn’t want her help, which was an insult to her and her cooking. That afternoon, when she had popped into the hospital to see Marcello, she agreed to do the job, but only if Toni was absent. Her mentor hadn’t been happy about that contingency, but he promised her. No Toni. She didn’t need the burden of sexual attraction.
And dear God, she thought looking at the moon, please don’t let Toni end up being her stepfather.
“Beautiful Madonna, please!” called an older man from a narrow restaurant with tables outside. “You must try the risotto. You will think you are eating from God’s own table.” The man held his hands out in a dramatic plea, but she continued on the busy path with a smile and a small shake of her head.
After a few more minutes of walking, a small white-haired man with a tanned face stood proudly in front of Il Cantinori.
“Bella, if you are looking for the best meal in Milan you have come to the right place.” She almost rolled her eyes at the boasting, but since she had been there before, she knew it was almost true. Il Cantinori was famous among locals. No website, no phone number, just a family run place for generations.
Dani smiled and practiced her Italian. “Quindi hai un tavolo per me?”
“Magnifico. The best table in the house for the signora.”
The old man turned toward the restaurant front with a shout, and a strong teen came flying out with a small bistro table. Dani was startled that the teen was working this late, but then reminded herself that while he was surely in school, working hard for the family was normal. He produced a white cloth from under his arm and draped it smoothly over the metal top. Then another boy set down a bottle of water and a small glass.
The old man stood behind a chair he placed facing the canal, helped her sit, then handed her a giant menu. To his surprise she placed the menu down and began to order.
“A carafe of the house red wine. The house wine is from a family vineyard if I remember correctly. And is your wife cooking tonight?”
“Signora has been here before.” He winked and bowed. “I am Piero. And my wife is always cooking. I am not even allowed in the kitchen.”
“Then I’ll have the pappardelle pasta in wild mushroom sauce, the veal shanks, the scaloppine and prosciutto in the lemon and parsley sauce, the balsamic tomatoes, and the peppers with aged parmesan, all brought out together please.”
He kissed the air. “The most excellent choices, signora.”
When Piero stepped away, Dani slipped her feet from her heels and watched the cargo boats float by. One of the boys brought her carafe and she sipped the fruity wine from a small crystal tumbler that she decided to find and purchase before traveling home.
Home. Where the heart is? Not in her case.
Her phone buzzed. She expected to see a text from her mother, instead it was a call from Nicole, whom she hadn’t spoken to in months. Dani answered.
“Girl, I need to talk to you so badly but my phone is about to die. Give me the two-minute Brazil scoop!”
“The only scoop here is that I’m still really, really pregnant, which is stupid because it’s too hot to be pregnant.”
Danica laughed, knowing that her friend was just being dramatic. Nicole loved being pregnant, and her husband took an enormous amount of pleasure caring for his pregnant wife. Nicole sighed as if she was relieved to sit down.
“How is Milan?”
“How did you know?”
“Destin and Toni are on the phone right now. He mentioned something about you no longer working at the restaurant.”
“Wait, Destin is gossiping with Toni right now?”
“Well...they are talking about soccer or whatever. But it came up. Destin just told me. He’s worried about you too.” She paused. “Are you okay? Did something happen between you and Andre?”
As quickly as she could, Dani relayed what happened. “...but seriously this call may cut out my battery is red.”
“Well, okay, I just wanted to know that you were okay. Nothing matters as long as you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I am. Remember that restaurant on the canal I met you at years ago when you were working in Milan?”
“Il Canti—”
“—nori. Yeah, I’m stuffing my face. Mother got under my skin tonight. That’s a whole other phone call.”
“Well, I want to hear about it. Call me when you can. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
Dani wasn’t even sure Nicole heard her as her phone went black. She tossed it on the table and smiled to herself at her friend’s concern. It was nice to know you were loved especially when you were across the world. Minutes later, an expensive-looking car sped along the other side of the canal, then stopped on a side street.
Dani’s mouth dropped when Toni unfolded from the driver’s side and waved in her direction. What the hell? How did he know she was here? Destin! She watched him saunter over the bridge toward her. As he got closer, she noticed his shirt collar was open to the chest and his hair looked rumpled, like he’d just left a woman’s bed.
“Umm...ciao,” Dani said when Toni tossed his keys on the table and whistled at one of the boys for a chair. Rapidly one brought out a chair, while the other brought another wineglass. And of course, as if on cue, a procession of her meals arrived one after the other.
“You don’t eat after ten, huh?”
“Do I look like a woman who doesn’t eat after ten?”
He made a display of raising his brows and looking her over. A sly half smile spread across his face as he met her gaze. “I could say something but I’ll embarrass both of us.”
Dani narrowed her eyes. “I can take it.”
“I think you look like a woman who enjoys life’s pleasures. Actually, I know you are. And that is a good thing.”
That was not what she expected. She prayed her heart would stop beating out of her chest.
“What are you doing here?” she asked lightly.
“Destin said you were here. I was watching calcio in the piazza in front of the Duomo with Destin on the phone.”
“Calcio?”
“Erm, ‘soccer.’”
“Oh, sounds manly.”
“Very manly. Dio, this smells fantastico. May I?” he asked, gesturing to the spread.
“Sure.” Men, she thought. Watch, he is going to eat my whole dinner.
Toni reached for a little plate and loaded it up with portions from each dish, taking care to select the best cuts, just as she would. Then he held it out for her to take.
“Oh...thank you.”
His reach made his open shirt gape. She didn’t mean to stare, but she spied the beginnings of his tattoo over his left pectoral. She licked her lips, remembering the champagne taste of that tattoo.
“Staring like that, angel, is dangerous.” He fixed himself a plate and groaned at the first bite.
“Well, maybe you should close your shirt, your whole chest is out. And are you drunk?”
“I’ve been drinking. I’m not drunk.” He took a few more bites and kissed his fingers.
“And your chest is out,” he added. “You don’t see me staring.”
She laughed at that. He was rumpled and she reluctantly found it cute. But she couldn’t help but get the feeling that something was wrong.
Toni sampled the wine and let out a pleased sound. As if full, he sat back against the chair, for which his body looked too big, and ran a hand through his hair. Dani dabbed at her lips, hoping her lipstick wasn’t smeared.
“You’re finished?”
“I don’t want to eat all of your food.”
“Then we’ll order more.”
“Sì?”
At Dani’s nod,
Toni shouted out his order in Italian, to which the old man gave a thumbs-up. She smiled, what may be considered rude in America was almost charming here. Toni poured them both more wine, and an alarming thought came to her.
“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with my mother.”
Toni’s head rose slowly and the look on his face registered pure disbelief. “Where did you get that idea?”
“You and she making eyes at each other? Having one more drink together? Huh?”
Toni laughed, making Dani red with humiliation.
Toni popped a cherry tomato into his mouth. “Do you think she’s up for it?”
“Oh, so you want to sleep with my mother?”
“That’s irrelevant, do you actually think your mother would seduce me?”
“She’s done it in the past.”
Toni’s eyes popped out. “Do tell.”
“You tell!”
“I did not sleep with your mother. In fact, she warned me off you. Told me that you’d had enough of men like me and to keep my hands to myself.”
Dani’s jaw hit the floor.” You’re joking.”
“I’m not. It was sweet, actually.” He paused, picking a bit more at the food. “I didn’t tell her that you and I had already gotten to know each other, in the biblical sense.”
Dani’s mouth turned down at his phrasing. “I hope you aren’t fishing for a thank-you.”
“No fishing.” He paused to top off their wine. “So, you and Andre.”
“She told you?” Dani heard her voice crack.
“Not in so many words. But she did tell me that he was just the face of that kitchen, that you earned those Michelin stars.”
Dani didn’t want to feel pleasure at that statement, but she popped some scaloppine in her mouth and tried to imagine her mother giving Toni a hard time. More food came, and she commended his choices of aged parmesan risotto and fried zucchini. Again he made her a plate first, this time watched as she ate it, then fixed himself one when he was satisfied that she liked it.
“Speaking of work,” Dani started. “I told Chef I’d take over the kitchen...as long as you weren’t around.”