“Oh, Reese, honey.” His mother might embrace her movie star image, but when it came to life’s ups and downs, there was no one more practical. “I don’t think I can fix this one for you. But you know you can’t act on it, so you’ll have to stay away from her. Find someone else. Bury yourself in work.” She winced. “Clichés, I know, but I don’t know what else to tell you that you don’t already know. I’m sorry.”
He scrubbed his face, then stood up and walked to the fireplace. “They’re clichés for a reason, Mom, but they’re easier said than done. She’s working for me as a subcontractor. I hired her for a function next month.”
“Before or after checking her references?”
“Before I knew she was married.” He faced the fireplace and grasped the mantle. “And she has a daughter.”
He met Mom’s gaze in the picture above the fireplace.
“You really care for her.” It wasn’t a question.
He spun around. “How can I? How can I feel like this for another guy’s wife? Mother of his child?” He sank into a side chair and dropped his head into his hands. “I know I should stay away from her. I know I should forget her.” He raised his head, hands flung between his knees. “Hell, I’ve only known her a few days and I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t get her out of my head.”
His mom walked over and hugged him. “I’m sorry, honey.” She wore the perfume he’d been buying her ever since he’d been old enough to shop for Christmas gifts. She stroked his hair just like she’d done when he was a child. God, it was nice to come home. “Do you want to tell me about her?”
He shook his head and removed her arms. “No, I’ve got to let it—her—go, but thanks for listening. I’ll be all right.” He kissed her cheek, then smiled the smile he’d inherited from her. “But I didn’t come to talk about Bella. I came to take you to lunch if you’re free.”
“You must really want something badly if you drove all the way here to take me to lunch.”
He feigned offense. “I can’t take my mom to lunch?”
“In the middle of the week with an hour drive from one side of our fair metropolis to the other?” Her slate eyes sparkled beneath her raised eyebrows. “Try another one.”
“You got me.” Yeah, he’d never been able to pull one over on her. “But it was only forty-five minutes.”
“Reese, just because your car has that stallion logo, doesn’t mean you have to treat it like a racehorse. You’re lucky you didn’t get pulled over. Or worse.”
“Mom. I’m thirty-four years old. I don’t need driving lessons.” He grinned again. “But you’re right. I do want something.”
“I knew it.”
“I want you to come with me to lunch.”
She shrugged and took his arm. “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to go. After all, who can resist Prince Charming?”
“Mom, please.” He exhaled. “Don’t you think we’re a little old to believe in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters?”
She pretended to look put out, but Reese knew better. His mother was an Academy award-winning actress for a reason.
“You’re never too old for dreams, my darling.”
***
Bella felt as if she were in the middle of a nightmare.
Madeleine had insisted that Staci begin her education that very minute. The problem was that if it didn’t come from a national restaurant chain, Staci couldn’t grasp the subtleties of the food. To her, pigs-in-a-blanket were gourmet.
Bella winced. Not that she had anything against pigs-in-a-blanket, but she wanted upscale for the auction.
Madeleine couldn’t really believe this was a good idea. Why sic Staci on her? It made no sense. Unless Madeleine was trying to sabotage the event. Which also made no sense. If Casteleoni’s failed, Madeleine’s bid for the Board could as well. Not to mention her bank balance. And Bella didn’t even want to consider the effect on Reese’s business.
The thoughts whirled around in her head, mingling with that damn threat. Just once she should call Madeleine on it. She’d thought about doing so many times, but she couldn’t risk it. Sophia would suffer.
Then a call had come from Reese’s assistant that he’d had a cancellation tomorrow and could she make a two o’clock appointment? She’d have to finalize all of the plans, cover her shift at the restaurant, and find a friend for Sophia to get off the bus with, but it was business; she’d make it.
Staci had taken off the moment Giac had hung up the phone, declaring a “shopping emergency” for a new outfit. Bella wasn’t sure what was wrong with the one she was wearing, but she was fine with Staci leaving. She’d had more than enough of the Fontaine family.
And then Uncle Vinny arrived, which was always cause for celebration. He traveled a lot with his job and was rarely in town. She loved him as if he were her father and missed him terribly when he was gone, but his arrival now only added to the day’s upheaval.
“Mi Bellisima!” Her father’s second cousin’s booming voice echoed through the restaurant as he enveloped her in a hug.
Uncle Vinny had been there for her when the accident had shattered her existence, and he’d tried to help her put the pieces together ever since.
“Ah, Bella. It’s so good to see you again.” Uncle Vinny kissed her on both cheeks, then held her away from him with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his Mediterranean-blue eyes—just the way she always pictured him. Vinny might be a top-echelon golf course designer and shrewd businessman to the rest of the world, but to her, he was an old softie. “I heard Connie DeLeo’s party was a success.”
“In more ways than one. We’ve gotten two referrals so far from it.”
“I told you, Bella, I’m willing to give you a loan—”
“And we both know the message it’d send to the judge: that I can’t take care of Sophia on my own, and that would negatively affect my case. Why would a judge alter the current custody arrangements if I can’t provide for my sister from the outset? No, we’ve been over this, Uncle Vinny and your lawyer confirmed it. I have to show the court that I can take care of her myself, or it’ll be tossing money away. And if I lose, God knows where Madeleine will send Sophia. I can’t take the risk; I have to go into this with a clear shot at winning.” And until then, she had to play by Madeleine’s rules.
Uncle Vinny bit back the words she knew he wanted to say. He had the same opinion of Madeleine that she did, but there was nothing he could do about it. With all his traveling, there’d been no hope of him getting custody after Dad had died. His lawyer had said that Madeleine’s lack of a career actually helped her cause.
Bella bit back the bitterness. Madeleine didn’t have a job because of Dad’s money and this business. The very thing Bella was counting on to help her out of the mess was the thing that kept her in it.
Luckily, Gus barreling through the swinging door from the kitchen got her mind off the endless loop of helplessness.
“Vincenzo! About time you visit!” Gus grabbed Uncle Vinny by the arms and pulled him into a double-cheek kiss. “Is good to have you back. You stay a while, eh? See Bella’s big night? She is a good business woman.” He tapped Vinny’s chest with the back of his fingertips. “Our little angel, she flies high these days. And with an American football player, no less!”
“What?” Uncle Vinny raised an eyebrow.
Bella rolled her eyes. Leave it to Gus to make more of the situation with Reese than it merited.
She tugged Uncle Vinny into one of the booths. “Don’t listen to Gus. I’m doing a job for Reese Charmant. The annual hospital auction. Gus’s food sealed the deal.”
“She lies. It is because of our Bella that we do this.” Gus wagged a plump sausage of a finger at her while pushing his way into the booth beside her. “The man, he saw her—” he held her chin in his hand—”and this beautiful face. He was incantato. The man, he knows beauty when he sees it.”
“Enchanted?” Bella tugged her chin away. If only. “Really, Gus. Even if I were Miss A
merica, Reese wouldn’t hire me if the food wasn’t good. You sealed the deal for us.”
Gus and Uncle Vinny looked at each other with such a look that Bella knew when to throw in the towel. “All right, I can tell when I won’t win against you two.” She untied her apron and scooched across the booth, making Gus stand up. “And I’m not even going to try. You two stay here and chat all you want about something completely incorrect while I get Sophia off the bus.” She kissed both men on their cheeks. “Behave. Both of you.”
She didn’t believe their angelic expressions for one minute.
***
“He’s interested in her, isn’t he?” Vinny asked Guiseppe the minute Bella left.
“Sì. But Giacomo and I, we don’t know in what way. Well, of course, we know in that way—the man, he is not dead—but we will watch to be sure he treats her as a princess, capisce?”
“Yeah, I understand.” Vinny scratched his jaw. He and the guys had been looking out for Bella ever since Sal took sick after the accident. Vinny was all for Bella having someone in her life, but he was around pro athletes all the time, and while most were decent, there were those who had an ego bigger than the venues they played in, and behaved—or misbehaved—accordingly.
He ought to tag along with Bella on this appointment. Check the guy out. He knew of him, of course, and what he knew he liked. But the real guy? That took firsthand knowledge. And since his own celebrity status gave him some common ground with Reese, no one would think anything of him tagging along. One sports guy to another.
Vinny chuckled. Okay, maybe he had one of those egos he was talking about, but that only made his radar hum for Bella’s sake.
So, yeah, he was definitely going to pay Mr. Reese Charmant a visit. Bella needed someone to watch out for her; it’s what her father would have wanted. Since Sal couldn’t, it was up to him.
After all, he was her godfather.
***
Madeleine paced in the master suite and, for the first time since she’d married Sal, she didn’t care what her heels were doing to the plush carpet.
Bella could ruin everything.
That Board position had been right in her hands. Talia had suggested it would happen at the flower show last week and, as the Recording Secretary, she would know. They’d been waiting for the tea to tell her.
Then there’d been the frantic whisperings when Talia had arrived. Of course she’d been late so Madeleine had had to deal with her devastating disappointment while surrounded by the rest of the Board. She ought to get an Academy Award for her performance, not that actress they were now considering.
She sat on the settee at the foot of the bed. How dare they take this from her. That woman had done nothing for this town but leave it to make a name for herself. Then she comes sashaying back as if she were royalty, expecting all doors to be opened to her, all accolades bestowed upon her.
Madeleine deserved this. She’d worked her fingers to the bone taking care of Salvatore Casteleoni. She’d hurt her back helping him to and from that godforsaken chair. And then she’d had to play the grieving wife, always at his hospital bed when the man hadn’t had a prayer of recovering. She’d known that from the day they’d admitted him. Yet she’d done her duty. Acted the concerned and caring wife, always mindful of the respect the townspeople held for him. Her. She’d been the face of Casteleoni’s and how did they pay her? By making her second best?
No. It could not happen. Some Hollywood chippy was not going to take what was rightfully hers.
Chapter Fifteen
“Bella and a Mr. Casteleoni to see you, Reese.”
Reese was halfway out of his chair when Kelly’s announcement registered.
The Husband.
Now he was meeting her Husband? Father of her child, the man legally and morally entitled to do things to and with her that Reese had no business imagining. That Husband?
He wasn’t ready.
“Oh, yes.” Kelly’s barely contained amusement interrupted his dread. “And a Miss Staci Fontaine, as well.”
Reese could hear Staci “humph” in annoyance as Kelly cut her off.
Never had he imagined he’d be glad to see Staci, but today she’d be a buffer between the happy couple and his wayward thoughts.
Okay, he could do this. “Send them in.”
Bella, looking beautiful in a light pink frilly feminine blouse and cream pants that brought to mind a vanilla ice cream cone he’d love to lick, walked into the office with a presentation portfolio clutched in front of her and a mountain of a man walking behind her.
Reese immediately started summing the guy up—as the guy did to him—and the air suddenly came alive with testosterone zinging around the room like wayward bolts of lightning. Bella seemed oblivious. How, Reese couldn’t begin to guess. He sure as hell wasn’t.
And he’d thought puberty had been a trial? It was nothing compared to having The Husband stare him down like a man staking his claim. Which was exactly what the guy was doing. Alpha male to alpha male, they squared off.
“Hello, Reese.” Staci pushed past the Casteleonies to greet him with more warmth than was professional, but just the right amount to provide cover for him. At least, he hoped so.
“Staci. Bella.” He greeted the women before turning to The Husband. “You must be—”
“Vincent Casteleoni,” the mountain answered, a large hand extended.
Reese shook it, his mind reeling as he made the connection he should have guessed. Vincent Casteleoni? The Vincent Casteleoni? The famous golf course designer? Married to Bella? Why, she was young enough to be the man’s daughter, for God’s sake.
What had possessed either one of them? No wonder he hadn’t met The Husband—the guy had probably been jetting around the country half the time.
And where did that leave Sophia? Without a father for most of her life?
Reese’s manner turned cooler than he knew it had a right to. But he was appalled. Indignant. Angry. Pissed.
Jealous as hell.
“My Bella tells me you’re having her cater the auction.”
Vincent Casteleoni skewered him with his gaze. He knew Reese was having thoughts he shouldn’t. And he was letting him know that he knew.
The cavemen vibes sailed over the women’s heads. Bella seemed absorbed in her own thoughts and Staci was being Staci: sidling up to him and coiling an arm around his as if he were a meal for a pet snake. The woman was an open book.
“And me, too.” Staci pouted. “Bella and I are doing it together. Right, Reese?”
She dug her nails into his arm, literally getting her hooks into him. And yet, he wasn’t discouraging her.
That would be because he didn’t have a death wish.
He put on his game face and answered her Husband’s question. “I have hired Bella. Your business came highly recommended.”
“Oh, it’s not my business. It’s all Bella’s, start to finish.” The lucky SOB wrapped his arm possessively around Bella’s shoulders and squeezed.
Reese couldn’t even think of him as Vincent Casteleoni, who, in any other situation would be a potential celebrity to book for jobs. Now, he was just The Husband. With that damn capital H.
Staci, showing more smarts than Reese had given her credit for, ping-ponged her gaze between them. “Reese.” She tugged on his arm. “We brought updated menus to go over with you.”
He ushered them to the conference room adjacent to his office. Filled with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the river beyond like a painting, with plush gray carpeting and maroon wainscoting, the room normally had a calming effect on him. It didn’t now.
“Please have a seat.” He indicated the head of the table closest for The Husband, then took the one at the far end for himself. He had to put as much distance between them as possible.
Not that it mattered. The entire time Bella was speaking, Reese had to struggle to focus on the content and not the way her lips moved when she said things like asparagus spears.
&nb
sp; God, he had it bad.
And The Husband knew it. Reese could feel it rolling off the guy in waves.
“And for dessert—”Bella shuffled more papers and brought out another list that Reese barely saw because he was thinking exactly what he’d like for dessert—”I wasn’t sure if Baked Alaska would be too predictable or too over the top, but it always makes a great impact when the wait staff parades it in in flames. It’ll be a spectacular ending, especially under a starry sky.”
Reese forced some words past the pasted-on smile that was purely for The Husband’s benefit. “I think it’s a great idea. We’re going to have fireworks over the river and that will tie in nicely.”
Nicely? What was he, a choir boy? Thinking of licking that Baked Alaska meringue off her body, one stroke at a time, was so much more than nice that he was amazed he didn’t suddenly go up in flames.
He should be shot. Right here. Right now.
“So that’s it.” Bella closed the portfolio. She ran her hands over it, smoothing out the surface.
Reese all but groaned at the thought of those hands doing the same to him.
Staci ran her fingertips across the back of his hand, the look on her face saying she’d like to run them elsewhere. He wasn’t willing to go that far, but he let her hand stay where it was when he saw The Husband’s shoulders relax.
His own did, too. Finally. This nightmare was almost over.
“We’re still on for Friday night, right, Reese?”
Until Staci asked her not-so-innocent question.
The Husband leaned forward. “Friday night?”
Staci leaned sideways, the cleavage she rubbed against his arm doing nothing for him. “Reese is taking us to the Riverfront Landing Friday night to see how it’s all going to play out.”
Except, what he’d planned sounded nothing like her innuendo-laced statement.
He really didn’t need Staci to help him hang himself—the thoughts he knew Vincent could read were doing that for him.
If The Shoe Fits Page 11
