have, too. But it hadn’t taken long to determine that, while Atlanta shared their vulnerability and some of their spunk, she wasn’t some celluloid creation concocted to appeal to the masses. Especially the male masses. She was flesh and blood. Real. Her current set of troubles would not be neatly resolved during the span of a full-length feature film. And, if his guess was right, she had a past to contend with, too, some ugly secrets that refused to stay under the rug no matter how many times she swept them there.
The two of them had that in common.
He thought about the note from his father. Atlanta was privy to far more of his past than any other woman in his life had ever been. Maybe that was why he felt nervous. Hell, maybe that was part of her overall draw. It was rare to find someone with as much baggage as he had. It was rare to have someone call him on his. In fact, he couldn’t think of a single woman who ever had. They’d accepted him as the fun-loving playboy he portrayed. Atlanta had spotted the troubled man behind the façade. It was that man she spoke to.
When they reached his car, he waited until they were both settled and the engine was humming before asking, “Where to?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“We’ll drive around the village. When you see something you like, tell me to stop.”
She turned to face him. “You don’t mind?”
“What’s to mind?”
“A lot of men—” Zeke was implied “—like to decide the destination or at the very least know what it will be before shifting the car into drive.”
“Then a lot of men don’t know what they’re missing,” he said casually before stepping on the accelerator.
They wound up on the far side of the village at a small eatery that was really more roadside diner than restaurant. It had a small dining room, but they sat outside, enjoying the view of the neighboring shops as evening settled in.
“You’re sure this is okay?” she asked not for the first time even before their beverages arrived.
“Why wouldn’t it be? I’m hungry. They serve food.”
“It has nothing to do with what I mentioned earlier? You know, about Zeke.”
“And his tendency to call all of the shots?”
She nodded.
“Maybe a little,” he agreed.
Her lips pursed. “So, you’re humoring me.”
“I don’t see it that way.” Control was important to her right now. She needed to have it. She needed to exercise it. Besides, he was curious to find out what she would do with it. And if it helped him take his mind off his father, all the better. “As I said, I have no reason to object.”
Mollified, she nodded. “Okay.”
“For the record, when I find a reason to draw a line in the sand, I do and I’m not likely to cross it afterward.”
“Stubborn?”
“So I’ve been told.” Most recently by Alex.
“But you’re not completely intractable.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re in Italy to meet your father,” she reminded him.
“Only because my brother asked me to.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He said nothing.
The waiter dropped off their drinks, sparkling water for both of them. When they were alone again, she said, “I briefly considered picking your family restaurant for dinner this evening.”
He sipped his water. “Why didn’t you?”
“Given your reaction to your father’s note, I didn’t want to push you into doing something you might not be ready for,” she admitted.
Her concern touched him, though a part of him was eager to shake it off. “I wouldn’t have cared. He’s nothing to me.”
“Angelo—”
“Less than nothing.” The strident words scraped his throat, making him wonder who he was trying to convince.
“It’s okay to be angry,” she said quietly.
“Gee, thanks for your permission.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes. I do. Sorry.” He exhaled sharply.
“So, when do you plan to see your father?”
He thought about the party Isabella had told him about. He tried not to think about the invitation his sister had told him he was welcome to extend to a guest. He mentioned neither to Atlanta. Rather, he said casually, “I’m in no rush. I’ve still got a couple of weeks to kill.”
“What about the restaurant? Have you seen it?”
“I ate lunch there today after you and I…parted company,” he finished diplomatically.
“By yourself?”
“With Isabella. I owed her an apology.”
“Isabella, hmm? You work fast. I wouldn’t have guessed you’d have had an opportunity to offend any of the local women already.”
“Isabella is my sister.”
He liked the way the announcement caused heat to suffuse her face.
“Sister,” she repeated on a slow nod.
“Half, I guess is the more accurate description. Luca remarried after Alex and I were out of the picture. He had a second family.” Bitterness welled. “He decided to keep this one around.”
“And you didn’t know about them,” she guessed.
“Not until recently.” He sipped more of his water. “Nor did they apparently know about Alex and me. It came as a bit of a surprise to us all, you might say.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and his tone was rueful when he said, “That was my line today. As you’ve noticed, I’m not handling this situation very well, which is why I owed Isabella an apology. All she did was to hold out an olive branch.” He shifted in his seat. “My beef isn’t with her. It’s with Luca.”
“Yet you’re in no hurry to see him, confront him.”
Her simple statement cut right to the heart of it. He didn’t like what that said about him. Thankfully, she changed the subject a moment later.
“Oh, my God! I nearly forgot. Something’s come up. Something…embarrassing.”
That
