“I will, if I can ever get hold of her.” He pulled out the prior contract and flipped to the last page bearing his mother’s signature. “I wanted to know about the original deal you struck with her.”
She removed her glasses and took a sip of the wine he’d ordered for her. “You know Emilia and I are dear friends. When she mentioned to me last year that her daughter wanted to open a restaurant but was having trouble finding a location, I thought I’d be nice and offer her that space.”
Little warning bells went off in the back of his mind. His mother rarely meddled in the family business unless she had ulterior motives. “At a quarter of its normal rent?”
“Now you’re just exaggerating.” She squinted at the amount on the original contract. “Yes, I agree it’s at a discount, but it was a sublet. I figured it was something she could afford just starting out, and it wasn’t doing us any good after that night club broke their original lease with us.”
“Why didn’t you run any of this by me?” He crossed his arms and zeroed his gaze in on her.
She smiled sweetly, not at all intimidated by his stance. “Adam, dear, you may have taken over running the business when your father passed away, but I’m still legally the owner.” She raised her glass to her lips, her grin widening.
His jaw tightened. He had no rebuttal for that argument. “So if I had terminated her lease for Schlittler?”
“I would have stepped in and vetoed your decision. After all, I am the owner, and you’re basically my property manager.”
His mother had spent so many years raising a family and playing the role of society wife that he’d forgotten she was a truly intelligent woman behind the polished veneer, a woman who’d gone to law school and was interning at one of the top law firms in Chicago when she’d met his father.
Maybe that’s why he could never win an argument with her.
The waiter interrupted their conversation to take their orders. His mother gave hers without even looking at the menu while he mumbled that he’d take the special—some sort of crepes with ham and cheese. He really didn’t care what he ate. None of it compared to Lia’s food.
Once the waiter left, his mother tapped on the folder. “I take it you’re going to renew her lease then. What changed your mind?”
Her question seemed innocent, but the tone of her voice in combination with the knowing light in her eyes hit him like a sucker punch. The last month had all been one big setup orchestrated by his mother. He sucked in a breath, held it until his temper simmered down, and slowly exhaled before he dared to ask, “Let me guess—you didn’t win a charity auction.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His mother checked her reflection in her spoon, patting her hair as though one of the meticulously styled strands had moved out of place.
“That dinner at the lake house—you arranged it.”
She said nothing, but the corner of her mouth rose ever so slightly.
His fingers curled into his palm. “And I suppose Lia was in on it, too?”
“No, no, no.” A look of panic flashed across his mother’s face. “Lia was as innocent as you were, dear. Emilia and I thought we could create a situation where her daughter could be introduced to several of my sons and see if there were any sparks.”
Sparks was putting it mildly. Try full-blown inferno. “And where does her lease fit into this?”
“Well, I was hoping once you met her and tasted her cooking, you’d think twice about shutting her down.” She set her spoon back down, nudging it until it was perfectly aligned with the rest of the silverware on the table. “But when I saw the chemistry between you two when you first met, well, I....”
“It’s kind of hard to have chemistry with someone while dragging a big hairy dog off of her.”
His mother hid her laugh behind her hand. “I knew that if Jasper loved her, one of my boys would, too.”
A pain formed in his chest, growing more intense with every beat of his heart until he was forced to close his eyes. And when he did, he saw Lia’s face after he’d made love to her that last night. Yes, his mother had been right. One of her boys had fallen in love with her.
She was watching him with her head tilted slightly to the side, one brow arched as though she were waiting for his confession as he opened his eyes.
“I hate to disappoint you, Mom, but don’t get your hopes up too high. Lia’s refusing to answer my calls now.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes widened. “What did you do?”
“Why do you think I did something?” The ache in his chest turned to fire. “She’s the one who disappeared the night of the fire and hasn’t spoken to me since, other than to send me an e-mail telling me to give the space to Schlittler. I have no idea where she is, what’s she doing, how she’s dealing with the loss, or what I might have done to make her act this way. I’ve gotten nothing but silence.”
“Well, that simply won’t do.” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. “Hello, Emilia, how are you?” A pause, followed by nodding. “Funny you should mention that. I’m having lunch with Adam right now. He’s missing Lia something fierce.”
It rankled him that he had to go to his mother for the information he needed, but if it meant he could find Lia and get some answers, he’d suffer the brief moment of humiliation that poked at the edges of his mind.
The conversation continued for another minute with more sounds of agreement before his mother pulled a pen out of her purse. “Now, what is that address?” She scribbled something on the folder and handed it back to Adam, a triumphant smile on her face.
The words all appeared to be part of a foreign language except for the last one. Italy.
“Oh, did he now?” His mother gave him her accusatory glare, one he hadn’t seen since she’d gotten a call from his high school principal after he’d organized and carried out the senior prank. “No, I won’t say a thing about that. He’s a big enough boy to figure it out on his own.”
Shit. His mother knew something that would make his life infinitely easier, and she was holding out on him. Maybe he’d be able to weasel it out of her once she got off the phone.
Of course, she already knew what he was thinking and changed the conversation. “You know, I stumbled across a new strategy that we could use next time we play Judy and Karl.”
Oh, sure, talk about bridge when I’m sitting on the edge of my seat to find out what you know. Thanks, Mom.
She continued to talk about jump-reverses and trump leads until the waiter set a salad down in front of her. “We’ll have to get together later this week and try it out. Well, lunch is here. I’ve got to go for now.” She paused, listening to something Lia’s mother said, shaking her head. “No, don’t tell her. She’s equally as stubborn as Adam, and we’ve done more than enough.”
She turned her phone off and slipped it back into her purse. “This looks delicious.”
Hardly. The salad in front of him remained untouched. “What did you learn, Mom?”
“Exactly what I showed you.” She pointed her fork to the address on the folder. “If you want to find Lia, she’s there.”
“And did her mom give you any clue why Lia won’t return my calls and went to Italy?”
His mother stopped chewing. A brief glimpse at her inner struggle flickered across her features, from the twitch of her eyes to the harder-than-normal swallow. “I don’t want to interfere in your personal life.”
“It’s too late for that. You’re the one who thought it would be a great idea to play matchmaker.” He leaned forward, his elbows propped on the table in a way that would’ve earned him a scolding when he was growing up. “I want to make things right with her, and it would help to know what I’m up against before getting on the next plane to Italy.”
“So you are going to go after her?”
He glanced down at the folder and then back at his mom. The easy thing to do would be to let her go, to acknowledge that they both loved their jobs too much to ever
truly be comfortable with each other as long as her restaurant sat in his building. But that wasn’t what he wanted, not now. And if it meant he had to go to her on his knees and beg for forgiveness for whatever he’d unconsciously done to offend her, he’d do it. “Yes.”
His mother beamed with contained joy for a few seconds before growing serious. “Did Lia ever tell you why she went to Italy in the first place four years ago?”
“She said her fiancé cheated on her, and she wanted to make a fresh start.” He racked his brain trying to figure out what that had to do with them. “I didn’t do that.”
“I know you didn’t, but you have to remember that Lia is very proud, and very determined not to find herself in the same position where she’s dependent on someone else. She’s put so much of herself into her restaurant that she’d be at a loss if she were forced to give it up.”
“And I don’t want her to give it up. I’ve even authorized repairs to the space so it’ll be exactly as she had it before the fire.”
“Then perhaps you should tell her that.” She shoved the folder toward him. “Shall I have Bates schedule your flight while you pack?”
He tucked the folder containing the leases into his briefcase, making a mental note to stop by the building and take pictures of the repair process so far. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“Excellent. Now, I need your help dealing with Ben.” His mother launched into a new conversation about how worried she was about his brother, but he only half listened. His thoughts were occupied by the green-eyed chef on the other side of the world.
By this time tomorrow, he’d be in Italy.
And with any luck, he’d have Lia back in his arms.
Chapter Seventeen
“That’s enough, Carolina.” Lia yanked the jar filled with red pepper flakes away from her mother’s cousin. “You don’t want your guests biting into a fireball.”
“But I like it spicy.” Carolina grabbed a pinch more from the open jar and sprinkled it over the mixture of ground chicken and ricotta cheese that comprised the filling for the ravioli they were making. “Remember, it’s my kitchen.”
As if she could forget. Carolina ruled over the massive kitchen like a queen over a small province. Here she was the master, and Lia was the student. But that didn’t mean the pupil couldn’t make a few small tweaks here and there.
Carolina peered over Lia’s shoulder at the pale green sheet of pasta rolling out of the press. “What did you put in the dough?”
“A little pureed basil.”
The queen threw her hands up in the air and muttered a string of curses in Italian, followed by an overly dramatic monologue about how children had no respect for their elders and tradition.
But that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Lia had nothing but respect for the traditional dishes her mother’s cousin prepared. It was here she’d first learned the art of Italian cooking. It was here where she’d discovered her passion. And it was here she’d found solace after life dealt her another series of blows to her love life.
Only this time, she didn’t find the escape she sought. Adam constantly lingered in her mind. She missed his smile. She missed his self-deprecating humor. She missed the touch of his lips on her skin. She missed falling asleep in his arms. And with each passing day, she began to wonder if she’d made a mistake in seeing the world in black and white terms. There was a chance she could have had both her passions—Adam and La Arietta—but her pride kept her from seeing it that way before she left. Now, in the laid-back world of Italy, she began to see possibilities she’d never considered, scenarios where she could have it all. And maybe, once she got La Arietta up and running again in a new location, she could try to pick up the pieces with Adam.
That is, if it wasn’t too late.
Nick, Carolina’s younger son, rambled down the stairs. “What did you do this time, Lia?” he asked with a wink before placing a soothing kiss on his mother’s forehead
“Just made a slight improvement to tonight’s menu.” She held out the thin sheet of dough for him. “I didn’t trigger the fall of the Roman Empire or anything like that.”
“She is always changing something.” Carolina pointed a gnarled finger at Lia. “You’d think she was here to take over my kitchen.”
The thought was tempting. She could turn the family’s agriturismo into a world-class dining experience and not give La Arietta a second thought. But she also knew she’d never wrestle control of the kitchen from Carolina as long as her mother’s cousin lived.
And Italy was too far away from the man she loved.
“Lia’s an accomplished chef, Mama. She’s only trying to please our guests with something that will surely be delicious.” He came by Lia and whispered so his mother couldn’t overhear, “Not to mention it has been a step above what we’ve been serving. You have to write some of this down for me so I can continue doing it once you leave.”
She didn’t envy Nick. Shortly after she’d arrived four years ago, Lia had convinced her family to buy an old sixteenth-century estate and turn it into an agriturismo, a working farm that doubled as a bed and breakfast for visitors. Nick’s brother, Giovanni, revived the ancient Sangiovese vines and started producing a wine that was already getting rave reviews from tasters. Nick took over the accommodation part of the business, seeing to the guests’ needs and making sure the rooms were booked well in advance.
It also involved appeasing the diva chef on site.
“I’ll start a diary for you,” she said and stretched the fresh dough out on the sturdy wooden table. “We’re ready for the filling, Carolina.”
Her mother’s cousin cradled the bowl like a child, unwilling to part with it. “You promise not to make any more changes to tonight’s dinner?”
Lia crossed her fingers behind her back so only Nick could see them. “Of course.”
She just wouldn’t let Carolina know about the fresh summer savory and tarragon that she’d added to the rub for the chicken they were planning on roasting.
Nick drew them together, his arms around their shoulders. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have two such talented cooks working for me.”
His compliment soothed his mother’s ruffled feathers, and Carolina began dropping spoonfuls of the filling on the dough. When she came to the end of the sheet, Lia covered them with another sheet of dough and pressed the two layers together, carefully removing any air from them that could cause the ravioli to explode during cooking.
Carolina glanced down her nose and nodded in approval when Lia had finished. “Yes, that will do. The basil might even balance out the pepper.”
Lia grinned and ran a pizza cutter along the sheet, cutting it up into individual squares. One battle at a time.
She was just finishing up the third batch of ravioli when she heard a familiar voice asking in stilted Italian, “Dov’è Lia?”
Her heart stutter-stepped to a halt. She turned to the stairs that led to the lobby of the manor house just in time to see a pair of polished black leather shoes descend into view. A second later she saw Adam, immaculately dressed in a tailored suit that made his shoulders seem broader than ever.
Their eyes met. He stopped a few steps from the kitchen, staring at her as though he hadn’t seen her in years.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her hands suddenly felt clumsy. She wiped them on her apron, fully aware of the audience of relatives who’d filtered in around them. “Adam, what are you doing here?”
“I—” His voice cracked, and he turned away to grab something from his briefcase. “I wanted to talk to you about this.”
He held out a folder, and something collapsed inside her chest. He was here for business, not her. She looked down at her flour-covered hands. “Give me a moment to clean up, and I’ll meet you outside.”
He nodded and retreated up the stairs. Unfortunately, the family didn’t follow. Carolina’s two daughters crowded around her at the sink. “Who’s he?” Sophia asked in Italian.
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“Yes, he’s hot,” Estella added. “If you don’t want him, can I give him my number?”
“The American is here to see Lia, not you silly girls.” Carolina shooed them away and held out a clean towel. “Remember that pride often closes our eyes, our ears, and our hearts. Don’t forget to ask and to listen.”
Lia took the towel and dried her hands, wondering how much her mother had shared with her cousin while Lia was on the plane. Her breath calmed, and a new feeling of peace surrounded her. Surely, Adam wouldn’t have come all the way here just to deliver the termination of her contract. “Grazie mille, Zia Carolina.”
She took the steps one at a time, bolstering her courage as she rose into the lobby. Nick was trying to engage Adam in a lighthearted conversation while Sophia and Estella pretended to be cleaning, their dark gazes fixed on Adam as they worked. When they saw her, they stopped and giggled, retreating into the next room. Carolina hobbled up the stairs and leaned against the wall. They were all watching her to see what happened next.
Adam glanced at the audience gathered around them. “Is there some place where we can talk privately?”
“This way.” She led him out the back door toward the farmyard, casting one glare over her shoulder at her family as she closed the door behind him. If they dared follow, she’d give them a tongue-lashing that would make even Carolina blush.
Three chickens dashed past Adam, stopping him in his tracks. He raised his briefcase up to his shoulders, far out the squawking poultry’s reach. “What kind of place is this?”
“An agriturismo. The livestock are part of the whole working-farm thing.” She led him to barn and sniffed the air before inviting him in. The hay was fresh, and the cows had been in the field all day. Nothing that could offend Adam’s rich city-boy senses. “Now what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Why did you leave without telling me?”
He wasted no time getting to the point, but she wasn’t quite ready to give him the answers he wanted. She thought she could forget about him, but every night since the fire, she tossed and turned, wishing he’d been there to hold her in his arms. The ache was just beginning to dull. But now that she’d seen him again, it returned full force, along with the longing, the desire, and the emotion she feared to name. To do so would only add to the weight of her heartbreak.
The Sweetest Seduction, Breakaway Hearts Page 14