“So why is it okay for you to kiss me now? We’re still working together—you’re not firing me, are you?”
“No, Bella, it’s just…” God, he was really screwing this up. He should have stuck to his rule, but Bella made him forget the rules. Made him want to make up new ones. “I’ve been attracted to you from the moment we met and, well, you’re not married.”
“So you kiss all the unmarried girls you’re attracted to?”
“Usually.”
He winced when she laughed.
“At least you’re honest.”
“That came out wrong. What I meant was, before. Back in my playing days. There were women. But not recently. I haven’t kissed anyone recently.” God, he was babbling. Make him stop.
Bella touched Reese’s arm. “Reese, I’m flattered. Thank you. And I think you’re pretty wonderful, too, but it’s not a good idea.”
“Yeah, I know.” Didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially when the woman was the one doing the turning down.
“I mean, we have a good working relationship and I need this job. I don’t want to jeopardize it.”
“It wouldn’t have to be an either/or thing, Bella.” He listened to himself rationalize and wondered what he was doing. He’d never had to beg a woman to go out with him before.
He’d beg Bella for so much if she wanted him to…
That thought knocked him back on his ass. Good thing he was sitting.
Bella, however, was not. She stood. “It is an either/or thing, actually. I just can’t. This is business. I hope you understand.”
For two more weeks it was. He could last two more weeks. “Okay, I hear you. We’ll get through the auction.”
“And after, Reese. It won’t be a good idea then, either.”
“Why the hell not?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I just can’t. Right now, the only relationships I need in my life are professional ones, okay?”
No it wasn’t, but what was he going to do about it? Knocking her over the head with a club went out a few thousand years ago.
And since when had he felt caveman about any woman?
“Reese!” Sophia came skipping over. “Come see the babies! You can talk to Bella anytime.”
No, apparently, he couldn’t. Not unless it had to do with set-ups or invoicing.
Man, the painful irony of having his own rule tossed in his face after he’d made his peace with tossing it aside… God, his arrogance. His ego.
Bella jerked her head. “Go ahead, Reese. Make Sophia happy. We’re still on for the auction. Anything else, well, it just can’t be.”
He let Sophia tug him toward the monkeys. He owed Devin a huge apology because he now knew exactly how she’d felt.
And, man, did it suck.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“So where’s that Prince Charming guy?” asked Drew a few days later, sashaying in on six-inch heels. Madeleine’s next make-over victim perhaps?
Bella steered her stepsister to an unoccupied booth, the gray day outside now matching her mood. “What can I get for you today, Drew?
“How ‘bout tall, dark, and hunky?”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. “All out of tall, dark, and hunky. How about a chicken cutlet sandwich instead?”
“I guess.” Drew clicked her nails on the table. “Staci says you’re pulling a fast one on Mother.”
Bella looked around again. Half the regulars would love to put one over on Madeleine and if word got out before Bella actually managed to do it, the plan would be over before it began. “Not really. Staci and I just decided it’d be better to let Madeleine think we’re going along with her plan.”
“She’s going to be pissed when she doesn’t get on that stupid committee of hers.”
“Nothing I say is going to put her on that committee, no matter what she thinks. It’s up to her and, really, it’s none of my business.”
“Try telling her that.” Drew nodded to something behind Bella.
Someone.
Bella groaned. Madeleine, in another one of her Hell-Froze-Over visits, was dressed in her country club uniform that consisted of a lime-and-white striped golf shirt, lime green pencil skirt, and the requisite string of pearls, with her hair smoothed back into one of those ladies-who-lunch matching headbands, and was dragging a little man in a business suit along behind her.
“Lucinda.” Madeleine had perfected the queen-for-a-lifetime haughtiness. “Andrew.”
Bella cringed along with her stepsister. Drew’s father, wanting a boy, had chosen her name, and the only reason she hadn’t changed it was because of Drew Barrymore.
“Allow me to introduce Mr. Giovanni Fiorello.” Madeleine, as usual, was oblivious to Drew’s cringing. “He’s interested in buying the establishment and has a few questions.”
A stripe of white in Madeleine’s black hair would make her look more like the badger she was. Or a snarling wolverine. Or a skunk. Yeah, definitely a skunk; she was a stinky human being. And those eyes were definitely weasely. Just like her personality. No way was Bella going to let the woman sell the restaurant.
Bella smiled at the man; after all, the situation wasn’t his fault. And answering his questions could buy her some time and goodwill with Madeleine. “Mr. Fiorello, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be back as soon as I put Drew’s order in. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“Lemonade would be nice,” he answered, fingering the collar of a shirt that looked about two sizes too big for him. As did his suit.
Hmmm… How much money could he offer for the restaurant if he couldn’t afford to outfit himself properly?
Bella smelled a rat. One that could pass for a skunk.
But she wasn’t going to call Madeleine’s bluff. As long as Madeleine was occupied with fake buyers, she’d stay away from real ones, and that’d be one less thing for Bella to worry about.
Bella flashed a false smile at her stepmother and turned to leave, but Madeleine was like a leech—yet another animal comparison that was spot on.
Bella added snake to that list when Madeleine slithered next to her.
“What did you mean when you told Andrew that it wasn’t your business?” Madeleine even hissed the esses at the end of her question.
Bella added bat to the comparison list because the woman obviously had the ears of one.
“Something Drew was talking about.” She walked behind the counter and opened the small fridge for the lemonade.
Madeleine, of course, didn’t dare follow. She waited on the other side, tapping a designer shoe. “I hope you weren’t referring to my Board activities. They most certainly are your business. Because—” Now Bella could swear she heard the soft ripple of a purr in Madeleine’s throat. “Any hopes you have of keeping this place are linked to me having a position on the Board. If that opportunity disappears, there’s no reason for me to stay in town, so you can kiss this place and that home of yours goodbye.”
Bella counted to ten. “Madeleine, I don’t have anything to do with you getting on the Board. I’ve given your teas, I’ve done a good job for Connie DeLeo. I’ve associated our name with a charity auction; what more do you want me to do?”
Madeleine wrapped her bony fingers around Bella’s bicep. “I want you to stay far away from Reese Charmant.”
Yeah, no kidding. Madeleine would want that even if his mother wasn’t up for “her” Board position. But Bella wasn’t supposed to know about that.
She tugged her arm free. “That’ll be kind of hard since we’re working together.”
“Quit.”
“What? I can’t quit. It’s too late. We’re too close.”
“Let him find someone else.”
“No one is going to come on board at this late date, Madeleine. Plus, if I did quit, I’d never get another catering job in this town.” And she’d never find a way to save enough extra cash to wage a custody battle. It was as if the woman were picking her dreams apart one by one.
“I don’t care, Lucinda. I don’t want you working for him.”
“You can’t stop me.”
Madeleine’s feral grin slithered across her face. “Yes I can.”
Oh, hell. She shouldn’t have challenged her.
Madeleine straightened her shoulders and crossed her arms, the fingers of one hand strumming on her elbow. “Quit working for Reese immediately or Sophia will be on the first bus out of town. And Mr. Fiorello will be able to name his price for this place.”
“Why would you do that? This is our livelihood.”
“Because everyone knows I want to be on the Board and if I don’t get the position, I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again. Especially if she—” Madeleine shook her head. “I can’t live like that, Lucinda. I’ll cut my losses and leave. The house, the restaurant, your sister… all of it will be gone.” The finger-strumming stopped. “So do we have a deal?”
Bella wanted to claw her eyes out. Wanted to toss a few hundred grand in her face and buy the place out from under her. Wanted to lock Sophia in a room where Madeleine couldn’t touch her.
But she couldn’t do any of those things. The only thing she could do was give in.
Bella exhaled. She should have taken Reese up on that kiss. At least she’d have had something great to remember him by other than two quick stolen ones and the absolute derision and loathing she’d see when she did as Madeleine asked.
And if this wasn’t nightmare enough, another shouting match erupted from the kitchen.
Although, it could actually be a good thing and put Mr. Fiorello off the thought of buying the place.
Bella hurried through the swinging saloon doors into the kitchen to find Bruno wringing the threads out of a dishtowel and Gus flailing his arms, bellowing in Italian.
“What’s going on?”
“He—” Gus yanked a rag from his apron pocket and mopped his face while Bruno slumped against the countertop, cringing. “Again, with the big noise! It is ruined!”
Today’s Special. “What was it, Gus?” Not that she really wanted to know—one more payment to make to Perla and Harry—but if Gus cared, so did she.
He sank onto the stool at the prep table. “A soufflé. A pumpkin soufflé. I make it to practice for the auction.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him they wouldn’t need it. Especially when this was something that people might actually want to order. “What happened, Bruno?”
“Well, Ms. C, I had a bit of an accident.”
“Are you okay?”
“Well, um, yeah, but, um, I did some damage to the van.”
“Our van?” Gus threw his rag at Bruno.
It hit him in the chest and caught on his belt buckle as it fell.
“Gus, I’m sure Bruno didn’t do it on purpose.”
Bruno shook his head. “I think the van will be okay. I can work on it for you. I know about engines and stuff.”
“Well that’s good.” Bella smiled at him, then turned to Gus, trying to placate him, because once the issue with the van was finished, he’d be back to the ruined soufflé. “Why were you working on a soufflé, Gus? We were doing Baked Alaska for dessert.” Were being the operative word. God, that was a phone call she did not want to make.
“It is not for dessert.” Gus pulled his bulk up a little straighter on the stool. “I, Guiseppe Sorcio, will donate my expertise to the highest bidder at the auction. The soufflé is but a taste of what I will create for the winner.”
Except that Reese wouldn’t want to have anything to do with this place once she told him.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to stave off both the headache and the tears. But what else could she do? Madeleine held all the cards.
Bella sucked in a breath. She’d deal with Madeleine later. “Okay, then let’s get this cleaned up. Come on, I’ll help you. Bruno, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Get to work on the van. I can handle the restaurant until Aunt Theresa comes in. Her daughter is helping out today, anyway so she can bus the tables.”
“Thanks, Ms. C. I will.” Bruno slunk out the door, avoiding Gus like the plague.
Giac poked his head in the back. “Is Drew’s order ready? And what about this guy’s lemonade? Madeleine looks sour enough to provide the lemon.”
If he only knew how true that statement actually was.
Bella poured the lemonade and took Drew’s plate from Gus. “I’ll be back in a jiffy to help you clean up.”
Gus shook his head. “No, you have enough to do with that woman. Just go be your charming self and I’ll handle this.”
Frankly, she’d rather scrape the pumpkin off the oven door than deal with Madeleine, but she also didn’t want to leave her alone with Mr. Fiorello too long. Lord only knew what she’d tell him.
Except when she went back out, Mr. Fiorello was nowhere to be found.
“Where’d he go?”
Madeleine whipped around so fast, the air buzzed. “You and your… your… heathens chased him off. Do you know how long it’s taken me to get him here? He’s been dangling on my real estate agent’s hook for months now and I finally manage to reel him in and you and that… that… beast back there have undone everything I’ve worked for. Don’t think it’ll save you, Lucinda. I meant it: get rid of Reese or I get rid of Sophia.”
“I heard you, Madel—”
“Pardon me, madam.” Mr. Griff seemed to materialize out of nowhere and tapped her stepmother on the shoulder.
Poor guy probably had no idea how dangerous an action that was.
Madeleine glared at him. “I don’t believe this concerns you, sir.” Ice could have formed with her tone.
“But you’d be wrong, madam.”
Hmm, the little guy had a backbone—one Madeleine would make it her business to sever if he hung around much longer.
“Hi, Mr. Griff.” Bella stepped in to ward off the eruption simmering beneath Madeleine’s surface. “I see you’ve met my stepmother, Madeleine Fontaine Casteleoni. Madeleine, this is Mr. Griff. He’s opened a shoe store in the old Colantonio place.” She wrapped her arm around the man’s shoulders to steer him toward a booth. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Griff?”
Mr. Griff wasn’t budging. “Actually, Bella, I’m in the mood to celebrate. I’ve been awarded a seat on the City Council as the merchant liaison to the Chamber of Commerce.”
“Congratulations. You’ll be representing all of the business on Main Street, then.” She cleaned off one of the tables, sticking a discarded napkin into her apron pocket. A couple of coins fell out. She wished he’d sit down so he’d be away from Madeleine.
He slid into the booth. “And I’ll have the ear of all the town dignitaries.”
“Dignitaries?” Madeleine leaned onto the edge of the booth, all traces of her earlier disdain and condescension gone.
Bella should have guessed that would be a subject near and dear to Madeleine’s cold, dead, calculating heart.
Her stepmother slid into the booth. “Do tell me all about it.”
The poor guy did not deserve this. Bella set the lemonade down. “Madeleine, perhaps you should—-”
“You know, I wouldn’t mind one of Gus’s specials if you have it, Bella,” said Mr. Griff.
“Sorry, but there’s no special today.” Unless he wanted to scrape it out of the oven.
“Well then, I’d love a cup of your potato soup, if you wouldn’t mind.”
If Bella didn’t know better, she’d think Mr. Griff was trying to get rid of her.
“Yes, Lucinda dear, why don’t you bring this nice gentleman a cup of soup?”
Madeleine, on the other hand, definitely was.
Mr. Griff smiled at her and nodded back toward the kitchen. Bella hung out for another few seconds, fingering the coins in her apron. Either Mr. Griff was utterly clueless, or he had more grit than she gave him credit for.
She just prayed he knew what he was doing.
Chapter Twenty-Four<
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Jonathan Griff held back his smile as he watched Madeleine try to reign in her social aspirations. She was far too self-involved to pull off the sycophantic façade she was attempting. Even without his Guardian insight, he could see right through her.
If it were up to him, he’d poof her off to some little deserted island with a palm tree, three coconuts, and an army of angry sand crabs, and make his job that much easier. But that went against every tenet in the Guardian handbook and The Boss had ingrained in him the belief that there was goodness to be found in everyone if one looked hard enough.
Well, he was looking, but he’d yet to find Madeleine’s. So, he let her say her piece and contemplated what role her absolution would play in the Grand Scheme.
“I utterly adore the patrons of our establishment,” Madeleine cooed as she fiddled with the pearls around her neck.
One of the first lessons of Guardian training: nervous twitching usually signified the beginnings of a lie. Madeleine was a textbook example.
“They are part of the family.” Madeleine waved at Rosa Angelelli with a smile faker than a two dollar bill. “Hello, Mrs. Andretti.”
Jonathan bit his lip and shook his head when Rosa raised her eyebrows.
Ah, Rosa… She’d been a challenge in her youth, but, Lord love her—-and He did—-the dear girl never forgot a face. Or how to keep a secret. Her nephew, bless him, was turning out to be as much of a challenge as his aunt. But Joey was a project for another time.
“How is it that you were chosen to represent the merchants?” The slit of white between her lips was Madeleine’s newest attempt at sincerity. “I thought you were new to our community.”
“New? No, I’m afraid not. I’ve been coming here a lot longer than you’ve been around, my dear woman.”
Sure enough, Madeleine preened. Ah, vanity. It ought to be the eighth deadly sin.
“But why I haven’t seen you?”
Because she never saw past the end of her nose. “Well, I’ve been travelling for a bit, and I did just open the shop.”
“I’m just surprised that they’ve elected someone so newly arrived to such a prestigious post. Why, you’ll be meeting with every decision-maker in the city, and at some rather impressive gatherings. I can’t imagine that you’ll be able to remember everyone’s names and positions so quickly. Are you certain you’ll be able to represent our merchants adequately?”
If The Shoe Fits Page 17
