by Shirley Jump
Sandy headed off, grabbing another waitress on the way, undoubtedly to gossip about the unusual customer who came equipped with his own liquor cabinet.
“You know you will be the talk of the kitchen for days,” Mariabella said.
He shrugged. “I’m already the center of a gossip storm. Might as well add to the hurricane.” Jake draped an arm over the back of his chair and took in the space. At the same time, the townspeople assessed him, whispers carrying through the room like cold germs in a preschool. “Why do you live in this town?”
“Because I like it here. It is quiet, simple, away from the busy-ness of the city.”
“Also what makes it a prime destination spot.” He waved toward the windows. Outside, the sun had gone down, and the moon shone a bright white circle above the wreaths. “Harborside has a remote feel without being remote. It’s quirky, and yet still maintains some of that uppercrust New England feel. With the right hotel and condos, it can become a mecca for tourists. You have to see the logic in my argument, Mariabella. This idea can work and benefit everyone.”
The words grated on Mariabella’s senses. “Why are you so set on that idea? Especially after we visited the inn. Something like that would work better, would it not? After all, you loved it so much.”
“I do. I did.”
She fought the urge to scream at him, to shove him into his limo and drive him out of town herself. “Then why show it to me, if you are still planning on building that other hotel here?”
He put out his hands. “The smart thing for the company to do is choose the property that will bring in the most return on investment. And while the inn was a nice diversion for the day, it’s not smart business.”
“The hotel may be the smartest thing to do, but is it the most fulfilling?”
Sandy saved Jake from answering with a glass of his wine, placing one glass before him and another before Mariabella, then leaving the marble carafe holding the bottle beside them. “I’ll be back for your order in a minute…unless you have something in your car for dinner, too?”
Jake chuckled. “No, we’ll order from the menu.”
When Sandy was gone, Mariabella tried her wine. She picked up the glass, lifting the goblet first to her nose, giving the wine a swirl before inhaling the sweet scent, a mixture of citrus with a slight hint of almonds. Then she took a sip. The dry, crisp Pinot slid down her throat smoothly, with a familiar taste.
It couldn’t be. That was impossible.
Mariabella took a second sip. But yes, the taste was there. The one she knew. Knew so well.
“Do you like it?” Jake asked. “It’s not a common wine, which is part of why I enjoy it so much. Very few people in the States have tasted this one.”
She was one of the few who had. She had, in fact, walked the very vineyard that had bottled it. “It is…ah, lovely,” Mariabella managed. She put her glass back on the table, careful not to tip it, even as her hands shook.
“I travel quite a bit and sometimes stop off in the tiniest, most out-of-the-way places,” he went on, “because I love discovering the best vacation spots. The ones no one else has noticed.”
“Really?” The word escaped on a high pitch. Mariabella fought the urge to run. He had to know who she was. He’d done this to set her up.
“Two years ago, I went to Italy, and visited all the normal spots. Venice, Sicily. I got bored pretty quick, so I decided to go off the beaten path.”
Mariabella took another sip of her wine, because she didn’t know what to say. Tip her hand now? Or wait until Jake said, And then I popped into Uccelli and discovered they were missing a princess.
“So I ditched my driver, rented a car on my own and traveled up the coast.” He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. His gaze met hers across the small square expanse. “And found the most amazing places.”
“Really?” She’d become a one-word parrot.
“Little cafes and shops. Tiny restaurants. Small countries, almost…undiscovered. At least by the corporate lions like me.” He let out a laugh.
She tried to join in, but her laughter sounded more like the last-ditch breaths of a strangulation victim.
“My favorite place was this tiny country called Uccelli. Maybe you’ve been there? Especially where you grew up so close to that area.”
What should she say? How much did he know? Panic cut off her air, coiled in her gut. She gripped the stem of the wineglass, so tight, her fingertips turned white.
“So, did you decide?”
Sandy. Thank God. Mariabella could have hugged the waitress for her timing. “I will have…ah…the lobster fra Diablo,” Mariabella said. “With a Caesar salad and…and…potatoes au gratin.”
Sandy scribbled the order on her pad, then turned to Jake.
“The same.”
He’d never even opened his menu. Mariabella had a bad feeling about this dinner. What had really been Jake Lattimore’s intentions? Business or pleasure?
In Jake’s eyes, she didn’t read recognition. He didn’t know who she was. His interest in Uccelli was a coincidence, nothing more. Relief settled over her, chased by the warm contentment offered by the wine. Perhaps this evening would turn out better than she had expected after all.
“What did you mean when you said your life is complicated, too?” she asked.
He slid his fork to the side, aligning it with his knife. “You know that sleigh ride we took yesterday?”
She nodded.
“I haven’t done anything like that in five years. Like Will told you, I used to be a different man.”
“Why?”
His mouth worked, as if he were searching for words. “I haven’t had a serious relationship in a long time, and I guess I forgot what it was like to enjoy an evening like that.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
He raised his glass toward hers, and they clinked. “To more of that, for both of us.”
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. How could she tell him her time here was nearly through? That the sleigh ride would become nothing but a bittersweet memory?
Instead, she sipped her wine, and thought of Uccelli, and the fate that waited for her there.
“Is that really what you want?” she asked. “More of that fun?”
“If I can find a way to make it work, yes.”
It was time to make her move, to show him there was another answer, another option for his plans. To appeal to the side of him that had reappeared, that side she’d seen yesterday.
She pulled the papers out of her purse and slid them across the table. “Then here are several other possibilities for your hotel. All of them far more suitable for your purposes than Harborside. The populations are slightly larger, which gives your vacationers a wider variety of local businesses, there are more amenities available in a fifty-mile radius—” she pointed to the first one on the pile “—this one even has an outlet mall with two-hundred stores, a big plus—”
“You’ve put a great deal of time into this in a short period of time.” He sifted through the thick sheaf of papers. “I’m impressed.”
“I wanted to provide you with options.”
“Besides Harborside.”
“Yes.”
Jake leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you so hell-bent on driving me out of town?”
“We like our town the way it is. It has all the elements of that inn you loved so much. Why can you not see that?”
“If that’s so then why did Louisa Hampton already agree to sell her kite shop?”
Louisa? She had given in? Mariabella had thought Louisa would stand firm, and not sell. She couldn’t imagine the boardwalk without the kindly elderly woman and her little dachshund. Every morning, Louisa stopped in at each of her neighbors’ shops before opening her own, and said a friendly hello. She had been a staple in Harborside for as long as anyone could remember.
“And my team is already working on contract terms with Sam Carter.�
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The bike shop owner. Business had been down for him for over a year. The summer rentals just hadn’t brought in enough income to sustain him the other three seasons. She could understand Sam wanting to sell, but maybe if she talked to the others—
Then what?
Mariabella couldn’t single-handedly save every business in Harborside. No matter how much she might want to.
A second couple came into the dining room and sat down at the table beside them. At first, Mariabella gave them a passing glance—a tall blond man dressed in business casual and a thin brunette woman in a red suit and black high heels. “If you just consider some of the other—” Mariabella gestured toward the papers, then stopped.
The woman at the next table was whispering to the man with her. And at the same time, staring at Mariabella.
“I will think about these possibilities,” Jake was saying. “After this project is completed. Harborside needs something to take it to the next level as a vacation spot, not just for tourists, but for the finances of this town. You must agree with me at least on that. But…perhaps you and I can reach a compromise.”
“Compromise?”
The woman was now openly gawking at Mariabella. The attention unnerved her, and she shifted in her seat, trying to keep her attention on Jake. What was he saying? Did he still want to build that monstrosity? Was everything they’d done and said yesterday for nothing?
The woman beside them reached out and touched Jake, drawing his attention. “Hi, Jake.”
Jake turned and looked at her. “Darcy. Tim. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“We rode up with Carl. He thought it would be a good idea for us to check out the town early on in the planning process,” Tim, the blond man, said. “Get a feel for what you’re envisioning.”
Jake gave them one short nod, one that didn’t show a trace of emotion, then turned to Mariabella. “Mariabella Romano, this is my team. Tim Collins, my architect. Darcy Singer, my marketing director.”
A setup, this whole dinner had been a setup. The wine. The table for two. And now, the “team.” The betrayal stung Mariabella and it was all she could do to put on a polite smile.
The two other people put out their hands, as polite as dignitaries at a dinner party. Except…
Darcy kept studying Mariabella. She tipped her head one way, then the other.
Mariabella straightened her spine, and tilted her chin, giving Darcy the slight air of haughty disregard that came with her upbringing. In Uccelli, that look reminded those who might have dared to talk down to the princess that royalty came with certain privileges.
Like respect.
Like not being stared at as if she were a science exhibit.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Mariabella said. The words choked out of her. She shot Jake a glare. He started to say something to her, but Darcy interrupted.
“Are you…like, a movie star?” Darcy said. “I swear, I know you from somewhere.”
Dread dropped in Mariabella’s stomach. She’d seen that look before. Knew that tone.
In the space of one slow second, Mariabella could feel the world she’d worked so hard to build fall apart. Crumbling one syllable at a time.
“Your face is so familiar,” Darcy went on. “I know it. Give me a second.”
Darcy was on to her. Maybe not all the way, but she was inching closer every second Mariabella stayed.
If she could have run out of the restaurant, she would have. But the wall was behind her, Darcy was in front of her, and Jake was beside her.
Jake stared at her. Waited for her answer to Darcy’s question.
“I am afraid you have me confused with someone else,” Mariabella said.
“No, I don’t think so.” Darcy squinted. “I know I know you. I read that Famous People magazine all the time. It’s a vice, I know, and I should be reading business magazines on planes, sorry, Jake,” Darcy said, glancing at her boss, “but sometimes you just have to indulge, especially when you spend as much time on planes as I do. And I can swear, I’ve seen your picture in there.”
“I need to go,” Mariabella said, getting to her feet. Her stomach rolled and pitched, and sweat broke out on her forehead.
Darcy reached for her, but Mariabella shifted quickly to the right, away from the touch. “I’m right, aren’t I? Are you like in hiding or something?”
“You have got me all wrong,” Mariabella said.
“I don’t think so.” Darcy stared at her, and in that second, Mariabella knew she’d met her worst nightmare. “I never forget a face.”
CHAPTER NINE
JAKE had wondered who Mariabella Romano was. He’d wondered why she was living in Harborside, and concocted dozens of scenarios in his head, most centering around logical premises. She’d come to America to study, or with a boyfriend.
But he clearly should have been looking to the newsstand for his answers.
Mariabella grabbed her purse and coat and got to her feet. “I really have to go.”
In a blur, she was gone.
Without ever answering the question.
“Well, that was weird,” Tim said.
“I agree.” Jake tugged the wine bottle out of the carafe and poured himself a second glass of the Pinot. He was about to put the bottle back into the holder when Darcy stopped him.
“Hey, let me see that.” She turned the bottle around, studying the design on the front. “I’ve seen this painting before.” She thought a second. “I know. In the same magazine. They did this whole article on this little country north of Italy, how it was like one of the last monarchies in the world, and—”
She stopped talking.
Stared at Jake, then at where Mariabella had gone.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
“What is?”
Darcy cradled the bottle, running her thumb over the image. “I can’t believe it.”
“What?”
Darcy handed the bottle over to Jake and pointed at the label. The front had, as Darcy had said, a painting. A stone castle, the same one he’d seen on his brief visit to Uccelli, rising above the rocky shore and lush green paths. It was as he’d remembered, with four turrets topped with purple and gold pennants, surrounded by a massive stone wall, that he imagined had once been manned full-time by guards.
He spun the bottle around to read the back. “‘Grown and bottled at a vineyard located just down the hill from the royal palace, an impressive stone structure built in the late seventeenth century. A small but thriving country, Uccelli is one of the few remaining monarchies in Europe.’”
“Monarchy? As in kings and queens?” Tim said.
“That’s the place.” Darcy pointed to the image on the bottle. “That’s the castle I saw in the article.”
“And what does this have to do with Mariabella?”
“She was…” Darcy leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. “The princess.”
Jake scoffed and put the bottle back in the carafe. “Come on. There’s no way a princess is living in this little town. And no one knows about it.”
Darcy shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not. It happens.”
“With who? Cinderella?”
Tim chuckled.
“I could be wrong.” But as Darcy said the words, Jake got the feeling she doubted she had made a mistake, and knowing his efficient marketing director as he did, he doubted it, too. “Either way, I’ll be glad to research it.”
Jake gave a single nod. As quickly as Mariabella had left, he sent Darcy and Tim off to research and told them he would have their meals delivered to the Seaside Inn.
That pushed his team off on another mission besides watching his every move, which was undoubtedly what Carl had brought them here to do. To ensure Jake fulfilled the board’s orders, got the signatures on the real estate transactions and built a shining example of a Lattimore property. None of those silly sentimental buildings his father had once loved.
He waved over the waitress and p
aid the bill. For now, the real estate transaction would wait. He had a more important mission of his own to accomplish.
“She doesn’t exist,” Tim said.
“What do you mean, she doesn’t exist?” Jake barked into his cell phone, then lowered his voice and apologized. “There has to be an address, a phone number, something for her. No one lives in this country for almost a year without leaving some kind of paper trail.”
“Apparently, she does. And as for Uccelli, all official pictures of her have been taken down. I couldn’t find a single one on the Internet. It’s like she…vanished.”
Jake paced outside the limo, his breath escaping in a cloud. A melody, followed by the rise and fall of laughter, caught his attention. People streamed in and out of the Clamshell Tavern, a few humming along with the Christmas carol playing inside. “She may not have left a paper trail, but I bet she left a people trail.” Jake told Tim to keep trying to dig up information, then hung up, gave Will a sign to wait and jogged across the street.
As he’d expected, he found Zeke sitting at the same stool, only this time the tavern was far more crowded, with several people playing pool, a few dancing around the jukebox and a group of men cheering on a hockey team on the big screen at the opposite end of the bar. Jake slid in beside Zeke, and ordered the man a beer. “Hey, Zeke.”
“Hey, Mr. Lattimore. You still in town?”
“I’m here until the job is done.”
Zeke grinned. “Hard-working man. That’s something I can respect. “Course, can’t say I can relate, but I can respect it.” He tipped the beer bottle Jake’s way. “You working at night?”
Jake was about to say yes, then shook his head. “Thought I’d just have a beer right now.” He ordered a second bottle for himself, and settled into a relaxed pose. As if he had all night.
“What do you think of them?” Zeke said.
It took a second before Jake realized the man meant the hockey team battling it out on the television screen. “I like them if you do.”