style="font-size:15px;">
‘Dormire bene.’
Sleep well.
As if she could manage that easily after losing herself in the intoxicating magic he managed to bestow. Without a word she carefully closed the car door, then she walked, when she was tempted to run, to the entrance, punched in the security code, and moved into the lobby the instant the external door released.
It was just a kiss, she assured as she rode the lift to the third floor.
A very good kiss, Lily reflected when she was safely ensconced in her apartment.
OK, amazing, she admitted as she lay awake coveting sleep.
What would it be like to …?
Don’t even go there.
It’s not going to happen.
‘What is it with this guy on table five?’
Lily looked up from plating an order and met Hannah’s exasperated expression. ‘Something wrong?’
‘He’s sent back his starter with a complaint about the prawns. Says they’re overcooked.’
Giovanni had prepared the prawns himself, and they were perfect. ‘I’ll plate up another starter.’ And she deftly did so, placing it ready for Hannah to serve.
Back it came, and this time Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘A touch too much dressing on the salad.’
Lily cast a disbelieving glance. ‘You have to be joking?’
‘Uh-huh. He has something going on, I swear.’
‘OK. This time serve the dressing separately so he can add it himself.’
Five minutes later Hannah returned and lifted her thumb in a positive gesture as she collected another order.
Hallelujah.
Lily really shouldn’t have celebrated quite so soon, and the fussy customer, as he was now referred to, returned his second course, this time with the complaint there was an abundance of sauce on the fettuccini.
Lily bit back an expressive oath, and set up another plate. Only to have it returned minutes later with the words, ‘Not enough sauce.’
A fresh plate went out, this time with the sauce in a separate bowl.
Hannah returned it with a thunderous expression, and Lily threw up her hands with a strongly muttered ‘What now?’
‘Tomato base a fraction too acidic.’ Hannah executed an expressive eye-roll.
Given it was Giovanni’s much-lauded recipe which no one ever faulted, it was obvious the customer was no longer picky, but out to cause trouble.
‘If you thought things couldn’t get worse … think again. Alessandro del Marco has just entered the restaurant.’
‘To dine?’
‘He’s talking with Giorgio.’
Why did she get the feeling the rest of the evening was going to take a downward spiral?
‘Request the guy at table five makes a different selection.’
Hannah breathed in deeply, then exhaled. ‘I’ll suggest the marinara. If he objects to that, I may accidentally on purpose ensure the contents of the plate end up on his lap.’
‘Oh, please,’ Lily vented very quietly. ‘Allow me the pleasure.’
Minutes later Hannah returned. ‘He’ll accept fettuccini marinara.’
Lily shot her a look that indicated more than mere words could convey. ‘Will he, indeed?’ She set it up, and spooned the portion of marinara sauce into a bowl. ‘Return that to Mr Fussy, with the chef’s compliments. And smile nicely.’
‘If I must.’ Hannah offered a questionable gesture. ‘OK, play nice. Got it.’
Lily did her best not to laugh as Hannah sailed out of the kitchen.
Faux humour that soon died when Hannah returned with the plate and bowl in hand. ‘I swear …’ Lily trailed with barely suppressed anger.
‘Hold it, sweetie. He wants to see the chef.’
Lily straightened. ‘Does he now?’ She took a fresh plate, added pasta, marinara sauce, and tilted her head.
‘You’re not going to …’ Hannah began in hushed disbelief as Lily began walking towards the kitchen door.
Lily looked back over one shoulder. ‘Watch me. Table five, you said?’
Smile, she bade silently. Play nice.
And she did, she even chanced a quick glance towards the table Alessandro occupied, until she saw precisely who occupied table five.
James.
Playing nice went out of the window, or door, in this instance.
‘Buona sera,’ Lily offered with such chilling politeness it was a wonder the contents of his glass didn’t instantly freeze. ‘I understand you have a complaint about your meal.’
He directed her a superior look. ‘Yes. I returned the starter several times, and I’m not at all happy with the fettuccini.’
‘I understand, sir. The waitress has relayed your comments.’ She extended the plate with its perfectly presented pasta. ‘A fresh batch of marinara sauce has been especially prepared for you. With the compliments of the management.’ She placed the plate onto the table just a little too close to the edge, and as she removed her hand her fingers accidentally tilted the plate’s rim, causing the contents to slide onto his lap.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным
