He rolled his eyes heavenward. Women. Who could figure them out? “I am warned.” He motioned to the door. “Come. I’ll drive you back to Louisa’s.”
But by the time they reached Louisa’s villa and he drove back to his condo to change for work, her strange statement had rattled around in his head and made him crazy. Was he prepared for her staying? Idiocy. He’d all but made her a partner in his business. He wanted her to stay.
He changed his clothes and headed to Mancini’s. Walking into the kitchen, he tried to shove her words out of his head but they wouldn’t go—until he found the staff in unexpectedly good spirits. Then his focus fell to their silly grins.
“What’s going on?”
Emory turned from the prep table. “Have you seen today’s issue of Tuscany Review?”
In all the confusion over Daniella, he’d forgotten that today was the day the tourist magazine came out. He snatched it from Emory’s hands.
“Page twenty-nine.”
He flicked through the pages, getting to the one he wanted, and there was a picture of Dani. So many tourists had snapped pictures that someone from the magazine could have come in and taken this one without anyone in the restaurant paying any mind.
He read the headline. “Mancini’s gets a fresh start.”
“Read the whole article. It’s fantastic.”
As he began to skim the words, Emory said, “There’s mention of the new hostess being pretty and personable.”
Rafe inclined his head. “She is both.”
“And mention of your food without mention of your temper.”
His gaze jerked up to Emory. “No kidding.”
“No kidding. It’s as if your temper didn’t exist.”
He pressed the magazine to his chest. “Thank God I went to Rome and brought her back.”
Daniella pushed open the door. Dressed in a sheath the color of ripe apricots, she smiled as she walked toward Rafe and Emory. “I heard something about a magazine.”
Rafe silently handed it to her.
She glanced down and laughed. “Well, look at me.”
“Yes. Look at you.” He wanted to pull her close and hug her, but he crossed his arms on his chest. The very fact that he wanted to hug her was proof he needed to keep his distance. Even forgetting about the fiancé she had back home, she needed security enough that he wouldn’t tempt her away from finding it. Her staying had to be about Mancini’s and her desire for a place, a home. He had to make sure she got what she wanted out of this deal—without breaking her heart. Because if he broke her heart, she’d leave. And everything they’d accomplished up to now would have been for nothing.
“You realize that even if every chef and busboy cycles out, and every waitress quits after university, Emory and I will always be here.”
Emory grinned at Daniella. Rafe nudged him. “Stop behaving like one of the Three Stooges. This is serious for her.”
She looked up from the magazine with a smile for Rafe. “Yes. I know you will always be here.” Her smile grew. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s part of the problem?”
With that she walked out of the kitchen and Rafe shook his head.
“She talks in riddles.” But deep down he knew what was happening. He’d told her they’d never become lovers. She had feelings for him. Hell, he had feelings for her, but he intended to fight them. He’d told her anything between them was wrong, so she had to be sure she could work with him knowing there’d never be anything between them.
And maybe that’s what she meant about being prepared.
Lately, it seemed he was fighting his feelings as much as she was fighting hers.
* * *
Two nights later, as the dinner service began to slow down, Rafe stepped out into the dining room to see his friend Nico walking into Mancini’s. Nico’s eyes lit when he saw Dani standing at the podium.
“Look at you!” He took her hand and gave her a little twirl to let her show off another pretty blue dress that hugged her figure.
Jealousy rippled through Rafe, but he squelched it. He put her needs ahead of his because that served Mancini’s needs. It was a litany he repeated at least four times a day. After her comment about him being part of the reason her decision was so difficult, he’d known he had to get himself in line or lose her.
As he walked out of the kitchen, he heard Nico say, “Rafe tells me you’re working out marvelously.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I can’t imagine anyone not loving working here.”
Rafe sucked in a happy breath. She loved working at Mancini’s. He knew that, of course, but it was good to hear her say it. It felt normal to hear her say it. As if she knew she belonged here. Clearly, keeping his distance the past two days had worked. Mancini’s was warm and happy. The way he’d always envisioned it.
“We don’t have reservations,” Nico said when Dani glanced at the computer screen.
She smiled. “No worries. The night’s winding down. We have plenty of space.”
Seeing him approach, Nico said, “And here’s the chef now.”
“Nico!” Rafe grabbed him and gave him a bear hug. “What brings you here?”
“I saw your ravioli on Instagram and decided I had to try it.”
“Bah! Damned trust-fund babies. I should—” He stopped suddenly. Half-hidden behind Nico was Marianna Amatucci, Nico’s sister, who’d been traveling for the past year. Short with wild curly hair and honey skin, she was the picture of a natural Italian beauty.
“Marianna!” He nudged Nico out of the way and hugged her, too, lifting her up to swing her around. Rafe hadn’t even seen her to say hello in months. Having her here put another piece of normalcy back in his life.
She giggled when he plopped her to the floor again.
“Daniella,” he said, one hand around Marianna’s waist, the other clasped on Nico’s shoulder. “These are my friends. Nico and his baby sister, Marianna. They get the best table in the house.”
She smiled her understanding, grabbed two menus and led Nico and Marianna into the dining room. “This way.”
Rafe stopped her. “Not there. I want them by my kitchen.” He took the menus from her hands. “I want to spoil them.”
Nico chuckled and caught Dani’s gaze. “What he really means is use us for guinea pigs.”
She laughed, her gaze meeting Nico’s and her cheeks turning pink.
An unexpected thought
