earlier. This made no sense. He hadn’t even looked at her proposal.
‘On one condition,’ he continued, his eyes glittering in challenge. ‘For the next month, you will take up where you left off six years ago, and you will learn everything you need to make Matteson’s a success. Then, and only then, will I loan you the full sum you request. When you return home you will have one further month to double your profits.’
Faye looked at him, wanting to see something in his expression that would suggest he was joking. It wasn’t there.
‘And if I fail?’
‘The restaurant is mine.’
CHAPTER THREE
TAKE up where she’d left off? Her chest constricted at the thought. As Faye reeled from his ultimatum and all it spelled for Matteson’s, that was the only thing her brain seemed capable of processing. Surely he didn’t mean—? She shook herself. He was talking about her work experience. Yet even the thought of living back here at Il Maia, where she had spent the best and worst four weeks of her life, filled her with alarm. Where would that leave her at the end of the month? How could she see this man every day when she was torn between wanting to scratch that triumphant smile from his lips and wanting to taste them?
It seemed a foregone conclusion that she was ruined whether she accepted his ridiculous proposal or not. Doubling the turnover within such a short space of time was near impossible. Yet refusing his offer was out of the question. For if she did she’d be willing to bet he’d make sure Matteson’s folded in double-quick time, just so he could pick up the pieces, work his multimillion-dollar magic and then flaunt his success in her face.
‘I suppose the fact that what you expect me to achieve within a month is impossible is part of the joke?’
She watched his lean fingers with their neatly shaped nails stroking the stem of his wine glass ominously. His eyes rested threateningly upon her, as if she were his prey and the slow kill was his preference.
‘I never joke about business. You asked for my help. These are my conditions.’ His arrogance was almost tangible. He sat completely still. It only seemed to emphasise that, to him, this whole affair was barely worth his energy.
‘This is a game to you, isn’t it?’
‘Life is a game.’
‘People’s livelihoods are at stake.’
‘Then win.’
Faye leaned back in her chair, feeling the pulse throb at her temples. ‘Could I not have the full sum now? Have the renovations well underway by the time I return?’ She subconsciously shook her head as her mind tried to fathom some way of achieving the unachievable.
‘Ahh, what a surprise. Miss Matteson is both loath to wait and unable to see that the priceless offer of working with me is worth more than any payout.’
‘You always did have the most monumental ego.’
‘And yet you have come back for more?’
Faye glowered at him.
‘Silence, Faye? Just when I was growing so fond of your new spirit.’
Anger bubbled within her veins like volcanic lava, and her eyes dropped to her glass of water. She was racked with a sudden desire to see it splashed all over his smouldering features. Only the buzz of other diners made her hesitate. He second-guessed her.
‘Go right ahead,’ he challenged, as her eyes darted around the room. ‘You think it will hurt my reputation? You’re the one who will be working here. I, on the other hand, am used to the childish behaviour of clients unable to control themselves when they do not get their own way.’
‘And what about when you don’t get your own way, Dante? You blackmail your clients until they do?’ Faye rose, placing her serviette on the table.
‘Blackmail?’ He made it sound as if she’d just accused him of murder. ‘I think you’ll find I’ve offered you a lifeline.’
She’d hate to see him offer the opposite.
‘Sit, Faye.’ Could he be any more patronising? ‘If you walk away, my offer is withdrawn, and the day you go under I will be there—waiting. I will offer you even less than the site is worth, and you will be forced to accept. Now, sit down.’
His tone was low and silky, and the effect it had upon the muscles in her legs would have made the decision for her even if the cold truth of his words had not. Slowly she resumed her seat, her face stony. She could not bring herself to look up at the expression of self-satisfied triumph he undoubtedly wore.
‘Dessert.’ She was grateful for the interruption as the waiter positioned large plates in front of them.
‘Torta di Ricotta,’ Dante announced.
Faye did not answer him. She could be eating ambrosia, the food of the gods, and it would still taste bitter to her.
‘You imagine that Matteson’s will be able to cope without me?’
‘Presumably someone has been running it the last couple of days.’
Technically, Faye’s mother was in charge of the restaurant in her absence, but whilst Josie Matteson was desperate to see Matteson’s restored to its former glory, she had always played a supportive role. In reality the workload would be spread between the head waitress and the chef. She trusted them both, but it was far from ideal.
‘Do not tell me that you, who are so critical of my ego, consider yourself indispensable, Faye? I can assure you, you are not.’
No, she doubted any woman was indispensable to Dante Valenti. How long had it been after he had walked away from her bed before he had taken another lover. Hours? Days?
‘Impetuous change may be part and parcel of your hectic lifestyle, Dante, but I can assure you it is a rare thing for us lesser mortals.’
‘Ah, but when there is opportunity you are only too eager?’
‘Not on this occasion.’
‘And how coincidental that your reluctance comes when it means not getting your cash at the click of your fingers.’
‘I can assure you that my reluctance has nothing to do with your money and everything to do with you.’
‘And yet you used to be so keen for both?’ His voice was husky now, and Faye almost dropped the first spoonful of dessert that she had taken. ‘Or has it slipped your mind that you once begged me to make love to you?’
So he was not going to let her forget it. Though she had been trying to prevent herself reliving that fateful afternoon since the moment she had arrived, he had every intention of using it against her. She sank back in her chair, feeling defeated.
It had been the first of August. Saturday. She would never forget the date. The evening before they had worked ceaselessly to meet a deadline, with Faye sketching idea after idea for the new hotel brochure. Production meetings had run late into the night. Not that Faye had noticed the unsociable working hours. She
