‘It’s not possible to fully train someone from scratch in two or three months. Besides, at the end of my year you will need someone to replace me, and Travis is the perfect candidate.’
He opened his mouth.
‘Furthermore,’ she added, before he could say anything, ‘it’d make a great success story for the local papers. It’d be great publicity for the programme.’
He scowled at her. ‘Why won’t you stay for the two years?’
‘Because I have things to do. Dreams to put into action.’
His scowl deepened.
‘Look, Rico, they might seem trivial beside all that you’re doing, but they’re important to me and I won’t let you belittle them.’
He blinked. ‘I wasn’t meaning to belittle them.’
‘And, if you’re serious about moving to seven-day trading, rather than hire another café manager why not trial Travis?’
His eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘Are they really your dreams, Neen, or were they your grandfather’s?’
Her jaw slackened.
‘You love working at the café. Don’t try to deny it.’
‘I don’t want to deny it.’
She leaped up, but once on her feet she didn’t know what she was doing there. Retreating, perhaps, from all that tempting masculinity.
She strode to the cupboard. ‘Cookie?’
When she turned he was right there—crowding her, blocking her way, forcing her to face him.
He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. ‘Do you really want to leave the café, Neen? Will having your own café really make you happier?’
She and her grandfather’s dream café was so vivid in her mind. The cakes she’d cook, the exotic tropical décor, the clientele. It was so different—totally different—from the charity café. And yet...
She woke up every morning eager to greet the day and set off for work.
‘Your grandfather shared with you his love of cooking. It nurtured you throughout a less than ideal childhood.’
‘Oh, that’s—’
His grip on her chin tightened and her words dried on her tongue.
‘And you, in your turn, nurture others through your cooking. You’re already living your grandfather’s dream. Why can’t you see that?’
His heat and his scent beat at her. Her heart pounded.
‘Are you sure you’re not using the practicalities of bringing that so-called dream café into being as a way of coping with your grief?’
His words sliced at her and she batted his hand away. ‘That’s probably exactly what I’m doing—but so what if I am? It helps!’ She still missed her grandad, and nothing would ease that grief other than time, but working towards their dream café made her feel close to him. ‘What does it matter? I’m not hurting anyone.’
‘It could hurt you.’
She stilled. Swallowing, she met his gaze again.
‘Instead of making a reasoned decision based on what will make you truly happy, you might find yourself locked into a course of action you start to regret.’
His words shone a light on her motives, hammered at them until they fell down and crumbled to dust. Her heart lodged in her throat. Eventually she managed to swallow it.
‘You might have a point,’ she finally whispered. She hadn’t stopped to think. She’d simply rushed to put her plans into action. She’d wanted to make Grandad proud of her. But...he’d always been proud of her. She’d never had to prove herself to him.
Rico watched her carefully, his eyes searching her face.
She swallowed again and nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. I can see now that’s what you’ve done in your grief for Louis, your guilt over the mistakes you made.’ She didn’t want to live her life like that.
His nostrils flared. He took a step back. She suddenly found she could breathe easier, but an ache throbbed low down deep inside her.
‘We’re talking about you, not me.’
‘Right.’ She drew the word out. ‘So you’re excluded from all kinds of good advice and received wisdom, huh?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
She moved in on him, the way he had on her earlier. When the kitchen table brought him up short, he planted his hands on his hips and pulled himself up to his full height. Neen refused to be intimidated.
‘In your own life you’re too scared to look closely at the concept of job satisfaction or even life satisfaction because you know the answers you’ll come back with. I think you’re too scared to work towards whatever it is your heart desires because before you can follow it you’ll have to forgive yourself for the mistakes you made when you were seventeen years old.’
White lines bracketed his mouth. His chest rose and fell. She ached to reach out and pull him into her arms, to soothe the agony she could see in his eyes.
‘Rico, you were just a boy. Haven’t you punished yourself enough? Don’t you think you have a right to the same things you fight to give these boys? A life that is—’
He reached out and seized her shoulders. Her words clattered to a halt. His grip should have been hard, brutal, but even in his distress he tempered his strength.
‘Don’t you get it yet?’ His voice shook. ‘I don’t deserve to be happy after what I did. These boys have legitimate excuses for going off the rails. They’re from broken families. They’ve suffered violence and abuse and neglect. I never had any such excuse. I came from a loving family who...’
Who’d put too much pressure on him.
His grip tightened. ‘I wasted my chances.’
She saw then that if he’d had less honour—a less finely tuned sense of responsibility and compassion—he’d have been able to move on from this long ago.
‘I don’t deserve another chance.’
Her eyes stung. ‘Oh, Rico, that’s not true.’ She could barely push the words out for the lump in her throat.
His face softened. He released her and briefly reached out to brush her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘Don’t waste your sympathy on me.’ His lips twisted into a self-derisory smile. ‘You know I’ll only use it against you.’
No, he wouldn’t. And even if he did she wouldn’t care.
That was the moment she realised that she cared more for this man than was wise.
She tossed her head, unable to look at that thought too closely when he watched her with those dark eyes. She’d consider it later, when she was alone. She’d come up with a plan to counter it. She was not going to jump from the proverbial frying pan into the fire.
‘Haven’t you learned your lesson yet, D’Angelo? You should know by now that you can’t railroad me into anything.’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘You telling me you’re not going to sign an extension on your contract? You’ve given your heart to the place, and you’re deluding yourself if you think otherwise.’
She’d given her heart to more than just the café.
She glanced into the living room at Monty and planted her hands on her hips. ‘I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’m not going to rush into any major decisions about my future until I’m sure my judgement isn’t clouded by either grief or fear.’
His face darkened momentarily at her oblique reference to Chris, but then it cleared and he smiled at her. A genuine smile from his very depths. It robbed her of breath.
‘Good for you.’
They stared at each other. Neen’s body shuddered as she dragged air back into her lungs. She should move away from him, but her limbs had grown heavy and languid. The greedy way he surveyed her lips sent a roaring hunger firing through her. Rico had promised never to kiss her again, but what would he do if she kissed him?
What would he do if she reached up on tiptoe and pressed her length against him, touched her lip
s to his?
‘Neen...’ he growled.
But he didn’t step away, and she swayed towards him. His hands reached out to curl around her shoulders.
There was the sound of a key in the front door... The front door opening...
Neen and Rico jumped apart. She swung away to catch her breath, to school her pulse, to lecture her wayward mind.
Travis strode into the kitchen. He stilled when he saw Rico. ‘Hey, Rico.’
‘Travis.’
He glanced at Neen and back at Rico. ‘Did something happen tonight?’
She blinked. Good grief, Travis wasn’t going to come across all paternal on her, was he?
‘Has Chris tried something?’
She relaxed. ‘Heck, no. Rico dropped around to give us this.’ She passed him the document that held pride of place on the kitchen counter. ‘In celebration, Joey and I talked him into staying for dinner.’
She watched Travis as he read the letter and wondered if his reactions would mirror her earlier ones—lack of comprehension followed by disbelief and then tentative hope.
‘But this...’ Travis couldn’t seem to finish.
‘It means everything is legal and aboveboard,’ Rico said.
‘Mum’s not going to cause trouble?’
‘She’s going to get some help—go to rehab.’
Travis met Rico’s gaze. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Travis shook his head. Neen’s heart went out to him as she saw the expression on his face. ‘You don’t know what this means to us—to me and Joey.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Rico agreed. ‘But I think I’m starting to.’
And then he shocked Neen all the way down to the bottoms of her cotton socks by pulling Travis into a rough hug.
* * *
Rico arrived at the café first thing on the morning of Melbourne Cup Day and set up two huge television screens so everyone in the café would be able to watch the race. When he was done he demanded that he be put to work. He found himself ensconced beside Travis—chopping, slicing and whisking.
Melbourne Cup Day was always the first Tuesday in November. This week they’d agreed to open on Tuesday and be closed Wednesday. It would mean Neen’s weekend would be split, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Today it was a case of all hands on deck to help with the setting up of the tables and the preparation and cooking of the set menu. The lunch wasn’t due to be served until one-thirty, with hors d’oeuvres from twelve-thirty onwards, but ticketholders started turning up well before midday.
Rico might be busy helping in the kitchen, but it didn’t stop him marvelling at Neen’s ease and her charm with the clientele.
‘Shouldn’t you be out there schmoozing?’ Travis said to him, not long after the first course had been served.
Undoubtedly.
Most of the crowd consisted of local businessmen, restaurateurs and hoteliers and the like, not to mention the press. He should be out there canvassing for support, pointing out the staff’s abilities and talking the café up. He removed his apron and bit back a grimace. Neen seemed to be doing a remarkable job on her own, but it was hardly fair to leave the entire working of the room to her.
He shrugged into his suit jacket, reluctant to swap the frenetic but ordered craziness of the kitchen for hob-nobbing and business bullying. He gritted his teeth and forced himself out into the café. He stood in the doorway to scan the crowd, but really it was Neen he searched for. And when he found her he let out a pent-up breath.
He watched her and his heart started to thump. If he’d made different decisions ten years ago he might have had a chance with a woman like her. His hands clenched against the burn, the temptation and the need. He deserved to suffer them all.
Neen turned and stilled when she saw him. Even though the man at her side kept chattering away to her, she smiled and it eased some of the ache. And then she said something to the man without looking at him and moved towards Rico, obviously intent on dragging him into the fray.
He didn’t feel dragged, though, as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and led him across to a group of businessmen. He felt...included. He frowned, but there was no denying that he felt part of the festivities.
Four hours later he couldn’t remember the last time he’d found a business function so exhilarating...and it wasn’t wholly down to the fact that all the boys had received job offers either. Nor was it due to the unmistakable interest in when the café’s next recruits would be ready to show off their talents.
His gaze slid to Neen. They’d had more job offers for Travis than they could count on one hand too, but she’d remained firm in her resolution to keep him on at the café. He hadn’t interfered. It surprised him, but he trusted her judgement completely where the welfare of the boys was concerned.
Just not with your welfare.
He pushed that unwelcome thought away. He’d set his course and he had no intention of deviating from it, regardless of the incentive.
Neen glanced up at him as if she could sense his gaze. She grinned. He couldn’t help it. He had to grin back. She hitched her head in the direction of the kitchen and then disappeared through its swinging door. Intrigued, he followed her.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Okay?’ She grinned like a loon. ‘It’s better than okay. The luncheon has been a resounding success. A triumph!’
He glanced back the way they’d come. ‘There’re a lot of stragglers still.’
‘I think it’s worth our while to humour them. We’re netting ourselves a lot of goodwill out there that might pay off in the future. The thing is they want to keep drinking, which is fine, but the terms of our liquor licence state we can only serve alcohol with food.’
And all the food was eaten.
‘So I was wondering if you and Travis could put together some quick nibbles?’
As she spoke she put together an antipasto platter with the speed of light.
‘Parmesan pastry sticks, spiced nuts and cheese and fruit platters?’ Travis suggested.
‘That’d be perfect!’
‘No probs at all.’ Travis tossed Rico an apron.
Rico set to work, humming under his breath. His café was proving an unmitigated success. He grinned. He couldn’t wait for another few months to roll around before the next gala event.
* * *
Rico stumbled in to his apartment at nearly eight o’clock, famished.
Amazingly, given all the food available at the café today, he’d barely eaten a thing. At first he’d been too nervous, and then too busy.
He strode across to the freezer and pulled out a frozen meal. He didn’t even glance down to see what variety he’d grabbed. He halted with it halfway towards the microwave.
He stopped. Very slowly he turned and walked back to the fridge, opened the door. He stared at the contents he’d bought on impulse yesterday—steaks, fresh vegetables and the ingredients for a smoky barbecue sauce.
You’re allowed to enjoy yourself.
He waved a hand in front of his face to dispel Neen’s voice, to try and get it out of his head. But he didn’t close the fridge door. Swallowing, he shoved the readymade meal back into the freezer. Would Louis care if he fixed himself something to eat? Really? Would he honestly resent the fact Rico might enjoy preparing a meal?
He slammed the fridge door closed.
He paced.
Of course Louis wouldn’t mind. But...
He blinked. But what?
His heart pounded. He rested his forehead against the refrigerator. ‘Louis, mate, I’m sorry you’re not here.’ With every atom of his soul he wished his friend were here, so he could cook him up a steak. ‘Every day I’m a thousand times sorry.’
After a long mo
ment he straightened and planted himself at the kitchen table. He thought over all the conversations he’d had with Neen. If he meant to be cheerful and friendly at work then he’d have to follow at least part of her advice. If he didn’t he would burn out.
In fact, he wished he was a robot, but he wasn’t, and the options as he saw them were few.
Option one: don’t change and keep treating the boys the way his mother treated him. He shook his head. That wasn’t an option. It wasn’t the impression he meant to give.
He stiffened and his mouth dried as he gained a possible insight into his mother’s behaviour. Maybe it wasn’t constant disappointment, anger and bitterness that rolled off her in great waves, but worry and anxiety. A weight that had no business shifting lifted from his shoulders. He scrubbed both hands back through his hair. He’d consider that later.
Focus!
Option two: try and do everything. He grimaced. That was the route to burnout. When that happened—and he knew it was a when rather than an if—he wouldn’t be of any use to anyone.
Option three: start taking some time out to relax.
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
And then he rose and started gathering ingredients from the fridge and setting them on the bench. He collected knives and a cutting board...
* * *
Rico sliced into his steak. It was tender and rare and glazed with the sauce he’d made. He lifted it to his mouth and ate. Delicious! He sliced into the carrots and zucchini. He relished every single mouthful.
He had two bites left when his cell phone rang.
He contemplated leaving it to go to his message bank, but habit gripped him too hard. He pulled it out. ‘Rico D’Ang—’
‘You need to get to Neen’s right now!’
He shot to his feet. ‘Travis?’
‘Her apartment is on fire.’
Rico was out through the door before he’d hung up the phone.
CHAPTER TEN
NEEN WATCHED HER unit burn. Along with the rest of the residents from the complex, she watched the firemen fight to get the blaze under control. A chasm opened up inside her and she clasped Joey all the more securely to her side.
The Redemption of Rico D'Angelo Page 15