The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
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“Every Italian man brings women to Rome.” He toyed with his now-empty mug. He’d lived with Kamila just down the street. He’d dreamed of babies like the little girl in the stroller.
“I told you about Paul. I think you need to tell me about one of your women to even the score.”
“You make me sound like I dated an army.”
She tossed him an assessing look. “You might have.”
Not about to lie, he drew a long breath and said, “There were many.”
She grimaced. “Just pick one.”
“Okay. How about Lisette?”
She put her elbow on the table, her eyes keen with interest. “Sounds French.”
“She was.”
“Ah.”
“I met her when she was traveling through Italy...” But even as he spoke, he remembered that she was more driven than he was. He had taken second place to her career. At the time he hadn’t minded, but remembering the situation correctly, he didn’t feel bad about that breakup.
“So what happened?”
He waved a hand. “Nothing. She was just very married to her career.”
“Like you?”
He laughed. “Two peas in a pod. But essentially we didn’t have time for each other.”
“You miss her?”
“No.” He glanced up. “Honestly, I don’t miss any of the women who came into and walked out of my life.”
But he had missed Kamila and he would miss Dani if she left. He’d miss her insights at the restaurant and the way she made Mancini’s come alive. But most of all he’d miss her smile. Miss the way she made him feel.
The unspoken truth sat between them. Their gazes caught, then clung. That was the problem with Dani. He felt for her the same things he had felt with Kamila. Except stronger. The emotions that raced through him had nothing to do with affairs, and everything to do with the kind of commitment he swore he’d never make again. That was why he’d worked so hard to figure out a way they could be together. It was why he also worked so hard to steer them away from a commitment. This woman, this Dani, was everything Kamila had been...and more.
And it only highlighted why he needed to be free.
He cleared his throat. “There was a woman.”
Dani perked up.
“Kamila.” He toyed with his mug again, realizing he was telling her about Kamila as much to remind himself as to explain to Dani. “She was sunshine when she was happy and a holy terror when she was not.”
Dani laughed. “Sounds exciting.”
He caught her gaze again. “It was perfect.”
Her eyes softened with understanding. “Oh.”
“You wonder how I know I’m not made for a relationship? Kamila taught me. First, she drew me away from my dream. To please her, I turned down apprenticeships. I took a permanent job as a sous-chef. I gave up the idea of being renowned and settled for being happy.” Though it hurt, he held her gaze. “We talked about marriage. We talked about kids. And one day I came home from work and discovered her things were gone. She was gone. I’d given up everything for her and the life I thought I wanted, and she left without so much as an explanation of why.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He sucked in a breath, pulled away from her, as his surety returned to him. “That loss taught me to be careful. But more than that it taught me never to do anything that jeopardizes who I am.”
“So this Kamila really did a number on you.”
“Were you not listening? There was no number. Yes, she broke my heart. But it taught me lessons. I’m fine.”
“You’re wounded.” She caught his gaze. “Maybe even more wounded than I am.”
He said, “That’s absurd,” but he felt the pangs of loss, the months of loneliness as if it were yesterday.
“At least I admit I need someone. You let one broken romance evolve into a belief that a few buildings and success are the answers to never being hurt. Do you think that when you’re sixty you’re going to look around and think ‘I wish I’d started more Mancini’s’? Or do you think you’re going to envy your friends’ relationships, wish for grandkids?”
“I told you I don’t want those things.” But even as he said the words, he knew they were a lie. Not a big pulsing lie, but a quiet whisper of doubt. Especially with the big eyes of the baby girl in the stroller pressed into his memory. With a world of work to do to get his chain of restaurants started, what she said should seem absurd. Instead, he saw himself old, his world done, his success unparalleled and his house empty.
He blinked away that foolish thought. He had family. He had friends. His life would never be empty. That was Dani’s fear, not his.
“Let’s go. Mario gave me the address of the next building where we’re to meet him.”
Quiet, they walked to his car, slid in and headed to the other side of the city. More residential than the site of the first property, this potential Mancini’s had the look of a home, as did his old farmhouse outside Monte Calanetti.
He opened the door and she entered the aging building before him. Mario came over and shook his hand, but Dani walked to the far end of the huge, open first floor. She found the latch on the shutters that covered a big back window. When she flipped it, the shutters opened. Sunlight poured in.
Rafe actually felt the air change, the atmosphere shift. Though the building was empty and hollow, with her walking in, the sunlight pouring in through a back window, everything clicked.
This was his building. And she really was the person who brought life to his dining rooms. He’d had success of a sort without her, but she breathed the life into his vision, made it more, made it the vision he saw when he closed his eyes and dreamed.
Dani ambled to the center of the room. Pointing near the door, she said, “We’d put the bar over here.”
He frowned. “Why not here?” He motioned to a far corner, out of the way.
“Not only can we give customers the chance to wait at the bar for their tables, but also we might get a little extra drink business.” She smiled at him as she walked over. “Things will be just a tad different in a restaurant that’s actually in a residential area of a city.” Her smile grew. “But I think it could be fun to play around with it.”
He crossed his arms on his chest to keep from touching her. He could almost feel the excitement radiating from her. While