by Chloe Blake
Dani crossed to the corner desk and picked up one of five gold statues. Her name and 1st Place was etched on the plaque. Pictures of her in uniform from past to present were displayed on the wall. She leaned closer to an action shot that could have been taken by a professional.
“Why did she stop?”
Toni shrugged and his mouth became a flat line. “She said she no longer liked the game.” He turned back to the window and stared at the purple and yellow streaked sky. “We used to play a lot together, but I guess she’s growing up. Becoming a young woman.”
“Women play sports.”
He turned back to her and smirked at her belligerent tone. “Yes, they do. But she was no longer interested, so I let her quit. And her mother never approved of her playing, anyway.”
“But she was good. Am I right?”
His smile was nostalgic. “She was good.”
“Was she better than you?”
“Of course not.”
Dani laughed at his matter-of-fact tone.
Toni slid his hands on his pockets and sat on the edge of a small desk. “Did you play sports?”
Dani chuffed. “Does this look like the body of an athlete.”
“You’re strong. I can see you playing, uh, baseball?”
“Baseball?” Dani laughed in shock.
“Yeah, like, um, who’s the famous guy... Babe Ruth.”
Dani rolled her eyes. Of course he picked the fat player.
“No. No sports. I traveled a lot with my mother, which took me out of school three to four times a year.”
Thinking back on grade school always made her cringe. Tutors, summer school, her father even tried homeschooling her himself at one point. What a disaster. Her grades were always passable, but she was lucky all she’d ever wanted to do was cook, because she wasn’t sure academia would have been an option.
“For the record, I didn’t choose Babe Ruth because he was overweight.”
Dani flicked her gaze to his and felt her heart beat a bit faster. Overweight. She hated the term, an assumption that there was one weight for everyone.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does if I offended you. I saw the look on your face.”
Ugh, she had a way of showing her feelings on her face. “I think you could have said Derek Jeter or Alex Rodriquez, that’s all.”
“Who are they?”
“Yankees.”
“Oh! Right. I’ve seen them play.”
“You have?”
“I go to New York a lot.”
“Hmm. I’ve never actually been to a game.”
“I think they kick you out of New York for that.”
She smiled. “Yeah, they do.”
He ran his gaze over her face as if he was going to say something else. He clapped his hands together.
“Well, I’ll let you get settled. The bathroom is down the hall. My mother left you towels there.” He pointed to a futon against the wall. “And anything else...just ask.”
“Thank you.”
He shifted his weight, then headed for the door. “Sophia is staying across the hall. Mother is at the very end. And I’m downstairs in the seminterrato.”
She frowned, then realized he meant the basement. “Got it.”
He walked out the door, but seconds later Dani looked up from unzipping her bag to see Toni standing still in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
“Sandro Botticelli believed that flesh was a symbol of health, wealth and stability. Which is why he depicted the most desirable women to have fuller figures. Even the statues all around Rome are of women with round hips and bellies—signs of femininity and fertility.”
“You’re making this awkward.”
“Have you seen his paintings?”
“Everyone knows The Birth of Venus.”
“He’s done so much more than that.”
“What does this have to do with—”
“You’re not fat, Dani. I saw your face when your mother shooed away the hors d’oeuvres at the party. I’m sure she’s curbed your hand many times, the same way Ava does to Sophia.”
Dani looked away, trying to find her voice. All that came out was a whisper. “She shouldn’t do that to her. It will scar her for life.” Dani felt the tears gather in her throat and she began to count backward, hoping they wouldn’t spring a well in her eyes.
“I’ve always been a big girl. Even at Sophia’s age. It doesn’t matter if you don’t think I’m fat, or even if I don’t think I’m fat. Society says I’m fat. Do you know how hard it was to find a dress for that party?”
“You looked stunning.”
She met his gaze and the look they exchanged was infused with a strange, thickened intimacy. She felt her heart rate increase. The deep, dark attraction sent luxurious waves of arousal through her body. He was so handsome. The classic bone structure and masculine jawline was the perfect backdrop for his infectious smile, but this, his declaration, the way he was looking at her, like he could really see her, had cracked open something inside of her.
She wanted him. Maybe it was the way he was with his daughter or the unapologetic way he spoke his mind. Maybe it was this, his inclination to call her out of her emotional shell. He can see her, wrapped in all of her insecurities, and as he stood there with his steady gaze on her, all she could think about was going to bed with him. To slide her hands over his shoulders and down his powerful chest. To press her lips to his skin. Then pin him to the bed and crawl up his tall, strong body.
She swallowed hard. “I’m a grown woman, Toni. I wasn’t offended by your comment. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” Please leave!
“I’d like to show you his work sometime. It’s at the museum in Berra.”
“Fine. Let’s do that,” she quipped, biting her lip against the odd mingling of emotions. She wanted him; she wanted to run. Out. Out. Out!
Toni’s gaze stayed on her briefly before he nodded and left. Dani rushed forward and quietly shut the door, then threw her back against the door and let tears roll down her face. She wasn’t quite sure why she was crying. And she wasn’t interested in exploring it. She wiped her face and sniffed herself back to rights. She ran her hands over her breasts and down her belly as if she could coax the arousal back inside its dark cave. Her breathing evened and she slumped on the bed, Toni’s bed. She imagined him sleeping in it, then mentally slapped the fantasy away.
Then her gaze landed on Marcello’s recipe journal. She flipped through the pages, letting the recipes push away her insecurities. But suddenly new insecurities rolled in. What if she failed? She tossed the book on the bed and walked over to the mirror. She ran a finger through the shaved edges at her temple, air-conditioning for the kitchen heat. Her palm ran over her tattoos, feeling the burn scars they covered. She then studied her fingertips, full of marks from cuts. She ran her hands over her breasts, down her middle, then over her hips. The image in the mirror didn’t look like a Botticelli painting.
Chapter 13
Dani couldn’t sleep. You looked stunning. She rolled to the side to shake off the conversation she’d had with Toni. His insight into the way she had been feeling was uncanny, and unsettling. Being vulnerable was bad enough, but vulnerable in front of Mister Confidence? No, thank you. And it wasn’t like he could relate. He was tall and fit and always put together. She’d seen the way women looked at him. His mother was trying to make him fatter, not slimmer.
Venus in a half shell she was not. If only it was the 1400s.
The moon emerged from behind a cloud and shot a ray of light through the window to her nightstand where Marcello’s book lay open. She sat up and let her eyes adjust to the writing on the pages. Tomorrow she’d begin testing the entrées, praying she could do them justice. Her eyes slid to her phone: 3 a.m. It was tomorrow.
Dani
threw on sweatpants, zipped her hoodie over her tank top and padded barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen. She placed the book on the counter and as quietly as possible, began going through the cupboards. If Grace was anything like her brother, there would be huge jars of home-dried spices, sauces in the fridge, several cooking sherries, homemade pastas in the freezer and cuts of meat.
She found nothing. Other than the fresh herb pots lined along the wall, there wasn’t a clue that the woman asleep upstairs even cooked. Dani walked back toward the mudroom and stopped when she saw a wide door to her right. It opened with a loud squeal, and Dani’s jaw dropped. It was the walk-in closet of a chef’s dream—a full steak locker, a full wine locker, jars of spices, pastas, canned sauces, barrels of ripe root vegetables and a giant refrigerator-freezer with every produce imaginable.
Dani turned on the burners and hit the ground running. Steak sizzled. Pasta boiled. The fish cuts luxuriated in butter. She tasted her first entrée and spit it out. Too much tarragon. Her second try was too spicy. Her third, meh. Fresh basil, truffles, a hint of dried persimmon. Gorgeous.
“Are you crazy? It’s two in the morning.” Dani whipped around to find Sophia in a big T-shirt and socks with her phone in hand.
“Yeah, maybe I’m a little crazy. I wanted to get a start on the menu. Did I wake you?”
“No. I just couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d get some water.” She shuffled to the counter and stuck her nose in the big pot. “What are you making?”
“It’s a cream sauce.”
“Can I have a little?”
“Of course! Take a seat.”
Dani found a plate and served her a small helping.
“You’re not going to eat?”
“I never eat when I’m cooking. Just tastings.” Dani watched Sophia take a bite. The young girl closed her eyes and cocked her head dramatically. Then her eyes popped open.
“It’s really good.”
It was good to hear, but Dani wasn’t yet satisfied and planned to make it again. She fetched the girl a glass of water and set it down when Sophia’s phone went off. A text message from W came through saying, send me a pic. From the way the girl blushed and avoided her gaze Dani suspected it was from the boy.
“I used to code my boyfriend under bubbles. I don’t know why I ever thought that was clever.”
“Don’t tell Papà.”
“Okay. But maybe you should say good-night to W,” Dani said before turning away. She did not want in the middle of that. Nor did she want to know what type of pics they were sending. She grabbed an onion and began dicing. When she looked up Sophia was next to her with a knife. Dani found her a cutting board and gave her several tomatoes. After a quick tutorial, Dani and her young sous-chef began to cook.
“Dani, have you ever sent a naked pic?”
Dani stopped dicing, she fixed her face and turned to Sophia.
“Um, I have. It was to a boyfriend whom I hadn’t seen for several weeks.”
“He says he misses me and wants a picture.”
“Uhh, did he ask for a naked picture?”
“He wasn’t specific, but...”
The girl’s face said it all.
“He sent you one. Didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Sophia. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do and I advise against it. You don’t know where that picture will end up. Send him a pic of the dog.”
She giggled. “It’s my fault. I asked him to send it.”
Oh Lord. Dani’s brows shot up, and then she pushed them back to neutral.
“It’s none of my business.”
“I didn’t think he’d send it. We aren’t having sex or anything.”
“Whoa, I wasn’t even thinking it.”
“I’m not that type of girl.” She frowned.
“I never thought you were.”
“Papà thinks I am.”
“He does not. He loves you so much. He’s just trying to protect you from the big bad world.”
Sophia’s bottom lip trembled and Dani didn’t know what to do, so she grabbed the tiramisu from the fridge and cut them both a piece. Dani coaxed Sophia to the table. They sat down and, after a loaded several seconds, Sophia shoved a piece in her mouth.
“I saw all of your trophies upstairs. Your father told me that you quit soccer. I mean calcio.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to play anymore.”
“You don’t miss it?”
Sophia shrugged with nothing else to say and Dani dropped the subject, happy that she was no longer on the verge of tears.
“Mamma and Papà fought about it a lot. I thought if I was a better daughter...”
Dani saw a tear plop into Sophia’s dessert.
“You thought they wouldn’t get divorced.”
Another tear made it into the tiramisu and Dani grabbed her hand.
“Oh no, honey, it’s not your fault. Trust me I know.”
“How do you know?”
“My mother and father were never married, but we did all live together for a few years. I thought if I lost weight, then my mother wouldn’t be so angry and my father would be able to tolerate her, so I starved myself for a month. No one noticed. But my mother kept complimenting me on how much weight I was losing, and then one day I passed out and woke up in the hospital.”
Sophia gasped.
“My father moved out a week after I came home from the hospital and my mother blamed me and my ‘stunt.’”
“That’s crazy.”
“My mother is crazy.”
Sophia laughed. She finished her dessert and looked less on the verge of a breakdown.
“You should talk to your father.”
Sophia grimaced. “He doesn’t listen, just barks orders.”
“You really like this boy, huh?”
Sophia blushed.
“You should get some sleep.”
“I wanna help a little more. Cooking is fun.”
Dani smiled. She thought so too.
* * *
Who the hell was up this late at night? Toni could no longer listen to the footfalls above him. He silently climbed the stairs and stopped in his tracks just beyond the entrance to the kitchen. Before him, Dani and Sophia had their heads together over small cuts of tiramisu. Not a bad idea, his mother’s tiramisu was delicious. He took a step forward and stalled. Sophia wiped tears from her eyes.
A powerful need to rush forward gripped him, but he stayed when he saw Dani’s hand settled over his daughter’s. They exchanged soft words he couldn’t hear and Sophia nodded sincerely, then smiled. After a few seconds, the two of them got up and began chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter.
Toni caught himself smiling at the pair they made. He contemplated going back to his room, content that Sophia was smiling again, unlike during their talk when she confessed that Ava had told their daughter they were getting back together.
He blamed himself, afraid that his promise to “think about it” had somehow led Ava to believe their reconciliation was actually happening. But he knew better than that. Ava was using their daughter as a pawn to trap him. It wasn’t the first time. But, dammit, he needed to make sure it was the last.
Sophia’s giggles broke into his thoughts. Dani wouldn’t act like that. He shook his head, admonishing himself for the comparison. He wasn’t on the market for another woman in his life, and yet he couldn’t take his eyes from the scene in front of him. He’d be lying if he said his conversation with Dani hadn’t been part of the reason why he couldn’t sleep. The sadness in her eyes had made him want to hold her.
He motioned to slide his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists when he found he had none in his pajama pants. Something had shifted when they had been in that room together. She had looked at him with those sad, dar
k eyes, her body framed by his extra-large bed, and all he could think about was picking her up and pinning her underneath him. His lips at her throat and the swells of her breasts. His hands smoothing over her belly and down over her thighs.
“You can come out, Papà.”
Dio. Now he looked like a Peeping Tom. A resigned smile on his face, he stepped out of the shadows and stopped just over the threshold of the kitchen.
“I was just seeing what all the noise was.”
“You were lurking.” Sophia popped something in her mouth.
“No, I was going back to bed.”
Dani zipped up her sweatshirt before turning around. The action bothered him, like she was putting up another barrier over herself and her body. Dani gave him a weak smile.
“Sorry, Toni, this is my fault. Did we wake you?”
Toni mentally grimaced at her terry cloth armor that zipped to her neck. “No, I was awake, but I thought animals had broken in. What are you two doing?”
Sophia dipped her spoon in a pot and stirred. “We’re cooking Uncle’s entrées.”
Dani flipped off a burner. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to practice a few dishes. Do you think your mother will be mad? I’m going to clean everything.”
Toni held up a palm and came toward them, the smells making his stomach rumble. “She won’t care. But you—” he pulled his daughter close for a kiss on the head “—bed. Now.”
Vibrations came from the table and Toni turned to see Sophia’s phone lighting up. Father and daughter lunged for the phone, but Sophia snatched it first and held it to her breast.
“Give it to me.”
“No, please. I’ll turn it off.”
“You said that earlier and you haven’t done it. Is that who I think it is?”
Sophia’s gaze shifted to Dani, who quickly turned away and began stirring a large pot. “I won’t answer him.”
“The deal is off.”
“No!” She quickly deleted the texts, turned off her phone and held it up for him to see. “It’s off.”
“Give it to me.”
“No!”
“Now.”