Miracle for the Girl Next Door / Mother of the Bride: Miracle for the Girl Next Door. Rebecca Winters
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Coming home had been a big mistake. Valentino was the last person his father wanted anything to do with. “Why don’t you take a break and have breakfast with me?”
“I can’t stop now.”
That was clear enough. “Is there anything I can do for you today?”
“No, no. You run along and have a good time.”
With those words Valentino felt about five years old. All that was missing was a pat on the head. “Then I’ll see you later.”
As he reached the doorway his father said, “How long will you be in town?”
The temptation to tell him he was leaving right now and wouldn’t be back got stuck in his throat. “Long enough to help you. Ciao, Papa.”
Though Valentino had been a grown man for quite some time, Luca had the power to make him feel small and unnecessary. He left the restaurant and headed through town to the piazza to wait for Clara. He wanted to be here ahead of her, in case she came early.
During their conversation he’d purposely brought up Silvio’s name, knowing she’d always defended Valentino to her brother in the past. His gambit had worked enough for her to feel guilty and agree to meet him.
After ordering a cup of coffee in the pastry shop, he took it to one of the tables outside and drank it while he watched for her. At twenty to ten, Clara got off the bus.
He took a second to study her womanly figure encased in hip-hugging denim capris. She wore a three-quarter-sleeve blouse in a yellow and orange print that buttoned down the front and tied at her waist. The knockout picture she made caused male heads to turn in her direction.
Without doing anything, she elicited wolf whistles and remarks from the drivers in the heavy morning traffic circulating around the piazza, but she appeared oblivious to the attention.
He put the mug down on the table and started toward her. “Looking for someone, signorina?” he asked in a quiet voice. She heard him and turned her head in his direction. Obviously she hadn’t been expecting him yet.
A tiny cry escaped her throat. “Tino—” Her green eyes played over him.
Good. In that unguarded moment she hadn’t forgotten after all. His lips twitched. “Do I dare confess you look good enough to eat this morning?” His comment caused color to seep into her pale cheeks. “Come inside with me. There’s a torta setteveli with our names on it.” She could do with gaining a few more pounds.
“Oh, no, not mine,” she said with the infectious laugh he remembered. It made him want to provoke that response from her as often as possible. “Those days are over.”
Valentino hoped not. She’d always been so happy before, but he decided not to push it. After they walked in, the woman at the counter smiled at them. “What can I get for you?”
“A large slice of that.” He pointed to the torta. “Put it on a plate with two forks, and we’d like two cappuccinos, per favore.”
They always used to drink it together. When she didn’t demur, he assumed she still liked it.
“Bene, signore.”
After pulling some Euros out his wallet to pay the check, he cupped Clara’s elbow and steered her toward a table for two in the corner away from the window. “We’ll hide over here.”
“From the paparazzi, you mean?”
“From Leandro Romaggio actually. Is he the jealous type?”
She looked stunned. “How did you hear about him?”
“Restaurant gossip. You can’t avoid it. Would he mind?”
Once they were seated across from each other she said, “If he knew I were here with you, he’d ask me to get your autograph. You’re so famous you’ve become a household word in Italy.”
For some reason her comment irritated him. “Does my supposed fame impress you?”
“Of course. It makes me a little sad for you, too.”
His brows met. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you were always such a private person. It’s quite ironic what’s happened to you when I know how much you hate to be recognized everywhere you go. I honestly don’t know how you’ve dealt with it for this long.”
Her comment pleased him in ways she couldn’t imagine. “Perhaps now you understand why I wanted to see you again. While the rest of the world makes the wrong assumptions about me, you alone know the real truth.”
She flashed him a wistful, yet beguiling smile. “You used to complain on a regular basis that you always minded your own business, so why didn’t everyone else mind theirs instead of yours!”
A chuckle came out of him. “That doesn’t sound so good. I must have been pretty impossible to be around.”
“Not at all. You were your own person who spoke the truth. I liked that as much as I enjoyed watching the genius at work.”
“Genius—” he scoffed as the woman placed their order on the table.
“Don’t be modest, Tino,” she said after they were alone again. “All those drawings and experiments you did on that scooter made your fortune. A lot of the guys were jealous of you, my brother among them.” She paused. “He was the reason you never stepped on our farm, wasn’t he? Mamma always wondered why you stayed away.”
“I didn’t want him to get upset with you because of me.”
“Papa told him to watch over Bianca and me. I’m afraid he took his job a little too seriously.”
He took a deep breath. “That’s all in the past. I’m sure Silvio does very well for himself these days.”
“I’ll admit he’s a great help to Papa. Out of my three brothers he will be the one to take over the farm one day.”
“Unlike me,” he muttered. “I just came from being with my father. When I offered to do the inventory with him, he told me to run along. I’m a no-account in his eyes.”
“You’ve been away a long time. He’s probably so thrilled to see you, he’s terrified you’ll leave again if he says something you don’t like.”
Her observation surprised him. “You think?”
“I know.”
She said it with such authority he almost believed her. “In his eyes I’m not the dependable type, not like Silvio.”
“You’ve already proven you can be whatever you make up your mind to be.” She studied him thoughtfully. “If you’re here to help your father, just give it a little time and he’ll start to believe it.”
Maybe she spoke the truth, but right now Valentino