The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
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Anger mixed with incredulity at her presumptuousness, and he didn’t hesitate. With his dream in danger, he didn’t even have to think about it. “You’re fired.”
“LEAVE NOW.”
Dani’s breaths came in quick, shallow puffs. No one wanted to be fired. But right at that moment she wasn’t concerned about her loss. Her real upset came from failing Rafe. She’d thought he’d be happy with the added exposure. Instead, she’d totally misinterpreted the situation. Contrary to her success in the dining room, she wasn’t a chef. She didn’t know a chef’s concerns. She had no real restaurant experience.
Still, she had instincts—
Didn’t she?
“I’ll fix this.”
He turned away. “This isn’t about fixing the problem. This is about you truly overstepping this time. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve had personal conversations or because to this point all of your ideas have been good. But no one, absolutely no one, makes such an important decision without my input. You are fired.”
He walked into the kitchen without looking back. Dani could have followed him, maybe even should have followed him, but the way he walked away hurt so much she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Not because she’d angered him over a mistake, but because he was so cool. So distant. So deliberate and so sure that he wanted her gone. As if their evenings at the tavern hadn’t happened, as if all those stolen moments—that kiss—had meant nothing, he was tossing her out of his life.
Tears stung her eyes. The pain that gripped her hurt like a physical ache.
But common sense weaved its way into her thoughts. Why was she taking this personally? She didn’t love him. She barely knew him. She had a fiancé—almost. A guy who might not be romantic, but who was certainly stable. She’d be going home in a little over two weeks. There could be nothing between her and Rafe. He was passion wrapped in electricity. Moody. Talented. Sweet but intense. Too sexy for his own good—or hers. And they weren’t supposed to be attracted to each other, but they were.
Staying at Mancini’s had been like tempting fate. Teasing both of them with something they couldn’t have. Making them tense, and him moody. Hot one minute and cold the next.
So maybe it really was time to go?
She slammed the stack of menus into their shelf of the podium, grabbed her purse and raced out.
When she arrived at the villa, Louisa was on a ladder, staring at the watermarks as if she could divine how they got there.
“What are you doing home?”
Dani yanked the pins holding up her short curls and let them fall to her chin, as she kicked off Louisa’s high, high heels.
“I was fired.”
Louisa climbed off the ladder. “What?” She shook her head. “He told you to dress like the authority in the dining room and you were gorgeous. How could he not like how you looked?”
“Oh, I think he liked how I looked.” Dani sucked in a breath, fully aware now that that was the problem. They were playing with fire. They liked each other. But neither of them wanted to. And she was done with it.
“Come to Rome with me.”
“You’re not going to try to get your job back?”
“It just all fell into place in my head. Rafe and I are attracted, but my boyfriend asked me to marry him. Though I didn’t accept, I can’t really be flirting with another guy. So Rafe—”
Louisa drew in a quick breath. “You know, I wasn’t going to mention this because it’s not my business, but now that you brought it up... Don’t you think it’s kind of telling that you hopped on a plane to Italy rather than accept your boyfriend’s proposal?”
“I already had this trip scheduled.”
“Do you love this guy?”
Dani hesitated, thinking of her last conversation with Paul and how he’d ordered her not to call him anymore. The real kicker wasn’t his demand. It was that it hadn’t affected her. She didn’t miss their short, irrelevant conversations. In six months, she hadn’t really missed him.
Oh, God. That was the thing her easy, intense attraction to Rafe was really pointing out. Her relationship to Paul might provide a measure of security, but she didn’t love him.
She fell to a kitchen chair.
“Oh, sweetie. If you didn’t jump up and down for joy when this guy proposed, and you find yourself attracted to another man, you do not want to accept that proposal.”
Dani slumped even further in her seat. “I know.”
“You should go back to Mancini’s and tell Rafe that.”
She shook her head fiercely. “No. No! He’s way too much for me. Too intense. Too everything. He has me working twelve-hour days when I’m supposed to be on holiday finding my foster mother’s relatives, enjoying some time with them before I go home.”
“You’re leaving me?”
Dani raised her eyes to meet Louisa’s. “You’ve always known I was only here for a month. I have just over two weeks left. I need to start looking for the Felice family now.” She smiled hopefully because she suddenly, fervently didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want the thoughts about Rafe that would undoubtedly haunt her now that she knew she couldn’t accept Paul’s proposal. “Come with me.”
“To Rome?”
“You need a break from studying everything that’s wrong with the villa. I have to pay for a room anyway. We can share it. Then we can come back and I’ll still have time to help you catalog everything that needs to be fixed.”
Louisa’s face saddened. “And then you’ll catch a plane and be gone for good.”
Dani rose. “Not for good.” She caught Louisa’s hands. “We’re friends. You’ll stay with me when you have to come back to the States. I’ll visit you here in Italy.”
Louisa laughed. “I really could use a break from staring at so many things that need repairing and trying to figure out how I’m going to get it all done.”
“So it’s set. Let’s pack now and go.”
Within an hour, they were at the bus station. With Mancini’s and Rafe off the list of conversation topics, they chitchatted about the scenery that passed by as their bus made its way to Rome. Watching Louisa take it all in, as if trying to memorize the country in which she now owned property, a weird sense enveloped Dani. It was clear that everything was new, unique to Louisa. But it all seemed familiar to Dani, as if she knew the trees and grass and chilly February hills, and when she returned to the US she would miss them.
Which