thought maybe you, Nonna and I could look through all the old photos, some time soon, and pick the ones we like best. Starting with your great-grandfather.’ She paused. ‘And including Papa.’
‘Including Pietro.’ There was a suspicious sheen in his eyes. She knew exactly how he felt. Every time she thought of her parents, it made her catch her breath and her eyes feel moist, too. Ridiculous, after all this time. She’d spent much more of her life without them than with them. Three-quarters of it, if you were counting. But she still missed them.
‘Can I get you some coffee, Nonno?’
‘That would be lovely, piccola.’
She made coffee for both of them, and retrieved a tin of cannoli wafers filled with chocolate-hazelnut spread from the bottom drawer of her desk. ‘My secret vice. Help yourself.’
‘Thank you. So how are you getting on, tesoro?’ Gino asked.
‘Fine. I’m enjoying it.’
‘Emilio tells me you’ve been asking him lots of questions.’
There was a slight edge to her grandfather’s tone—something she’d never known before—and it put her on full alert. Was Mancuso trying to make trouble between them? ‘Well, I guess I have—I’ve been trying to get to know the business properly. If I’ve been a nuisance, then I’m sorry. I’ll try not to bother him so much in future.’
‘It’s not that.’ Gino paused. ‘He feels you don’t trust him.’
Help. How did she answer that?
Obviously her expression did it for her, because her grandfather sighed. ‘Emilio’s a good man, Carenza. He’s looked after the business for the last five years, been my right-hand man for many years more than that. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.’
Carenza wasn’t so sure, but she had no proof to back up her feelings. And a hunch wasn’t enough.
Dante’s voice echoed in her head. Gather all your facts, first.
As if her grandfather could read her mind, he said, ‘I hear you’ve been seeing Dante Romano.’
‘He’s my business mentor,’ she explained. Her grandfather didn’t need to know the rest of it.
‘You do know he wanted to buy the business?’
‘Yes, which makes him the best person I could ask.’ She gave an expressive shrug. ‘You know what they say. Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer.’ Not that Dante was her enemy. Even when they didn’t see eye to eye.
Gino raised an eyebrow. ‘Be careful, tesoro.’
‘You’re warning me off him?’
‘Not in business. Dante’s as straight as they come. But don’t lose your heart to him. As soon as he sees wedding bells in a girlfriend’s eyes, he leaves her.’
‘I’m not his girlfriend.’ And she certainly wasn’t telling her grandfather about that side of her relationship with Dante. That was just between her and Dante.
‘Just be careful. And don’t break his heart, either.’
She looked at him, hurt. ‘How do you mean?’
‘You’re not one to settle.’
Did he know about what had happened in London, last year? she wondered. If Dante knew, anyone else could find out, too, and tell her grandfather. Not Dante—she knew he’d never undermine her like that. But if Mancuso had any idea … Playing for time, she said, ‘I don’t understand, Nonno.’
‘It’d be easy for a man to lose his heart to you, tesoro. You’re sweet and you’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘But you’re twenty-eight years old and you still haven’t found the man you want to settle down with. And Dante Romano had a rough time, as a kid.’
That didn’t surprise her. It would explain why he was so self-contained, why he didn’t let people close. And yet she knew he was close to his mother and his sister. ‘What do you mean by “a rough time”, Nonno?’
Gino shook his head. ‘It’s not for me to talk about.’
And she was pretty sure that Dante wouldn’t tell her. ‘He said you gave him a chance, when he was younger,’ she said.
‘I gave him a job.’ Gino flapped his hand dismissively.
‘I get the impression it was more than that.’
‘And a little advice when he bought the first restaurant.’
‘Exactly. He feels he owes you. That’s why he’s mentoring me.’
‘Hmm. Well, just be careful,’ Gino said.
Carenza was still seething about the way Emilio Mancuso had gone to her grandfather behind her back when she called in at Dante’s office for her mentoring session on Wednesday evening.
He took one look at her. ‘I’m feeding you first. You need carbs.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘No, you’re not. Trust me to order for you?’
‘Anything except clams.’ She pulled a face.
‘That’s a shame, because Mario’s been experimenting with pasta vongole—it has a chilli kick and it’s seriously good.’
‘Really not clams, please,’ she repeated.
Rosemary bread and olives helped settle her temper; the pasta Alfredo, followed by a rich beef stew with tiny new potatoes and steamed mangetout, helped even more.
And then Dante gave her ice cream.
She tasted it gingerly. ‘Not as good as mine,’ she said, though she finished the bowl—the sugar rush was just what she needed to get rid of the last bit of her bad mood. ‘I think you need to change your supplier.’
‘Do you have anyone in mind?’
He was teasing her, and she knew it. She smiled. ‘I might do.’
‘Give me a quote, and we’ll talk about it.’ His smile faded. ‘Talking of quotations—I heard back from your supplier.’
‘And? ‘
Without comment, Dante cleared away the plates, then placed the quotation in front of her.
She stared at it. ‘But—that’s an awful lot less than they’re charging me.’
‘I thought it might be,’ he said.
‘Is this why my business is going downhill? This is what you thought when you said it was more than just the recession?’
‘It’s one of the reasons,’ he said. ‘But what’s really worrying me is
