by Susan Meier
“Because we will not be a one-night stand. We will be lovers. Besides, I told you. I don’t do relationships.”
“You also said that you’d never have a romance with an employee.” She met his gaze. “But you changed that rule.”
“I made accommodations. I made everything work.”
“Not for me! I don’t just want a fling! I want something that’s going to last.”
His eyebrows rose. “Something that will last?” He frowned. “Forever?”
“Forever!”
“I tried forever. It did not work for me.”
“You tried?”
“Sì.”
“And?”
“And it ended badly.” He couldn’t bring himself to explain that he’d been shattered, that he’d almost given up his dream for a woman who had left him, that he’d been a ball of pain and confusion until he pulled himself together and realized his dreams depended on him not trusting another woman with his heart or so much of his life.
“Cara, marriage is for other people. It’s full of all kinds of things incompatible with the man I have to be to be a success.”
“You never want to get married?”
“No!” He tossed his hands. “What I have been saying all along? Do you not listen?”
She stood up. The pain on her face cut through him like a knife. Though he suddenly wondered why. He’d always known she wanted security. He’d always known he couldn’t give it to her. He couldn’t believe he’d actually tried to get her to accept less than what she needed.
He rose, too. “Okay, let’s forget this conversation happened. It’s been a long day. I’m tired. I also clearly misinterpreted things. Come to Mancini’s tomorrow as general manager.”
She took two steps back. “You’re going to keep me, even though I won’t sleep with you?”
“Yes.” But the sadness that filled him confused him. He’d had other women tell him no and he’d walked away unconcerned. Her no felt like the last page of a favorite book, the end of something he didn’t want to see end. And yet he knew she couldn’t live with his terms and he couldn’t live with hers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AGREEING THAT HE was right about at least one thing—she was too tired, too spent, to continue this discussion—Dani walked to the elevator. He followed her, hit the button that would close the door and turned away.
She sucked in a breath and tried to still her hammering heart. But it was no use. They really couldn’t find a middle ground. It was sweet that he’d tried, but it was just another painful reminder that she had fallen in love with the wrong man.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d be okay—
No, she wouldn’t. She’d fallen in love with him. Unless he really stayed out of Mancini’s, she’d always be in love with him. Then she’d spend her life wishing he could fall for her, too. Or maybe one day she’d succumb. She’d want him so much she’d forget everything else, and she’d start the affair he wanted. With the strength of her feelings, that would seal the deal for her. She’d love him forever. Then she’d never have a home. Never have a family. Always be alone.
She thought of the plane ticket tucked away somewhere in her bedroom in Louisa’s house. Now that she knew he wanted nothing but an affair, which was unacceptable, she could go home.
But she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to run Mancini’s. He’d handed her the opportunity with her general managership—
And he was leaving. Maybe not permanently, but for the next several years he wouldn’t be around every day. Most of the time, he’d be in other cities, opening new restaurants.
Wouldn’t she be a fool to leave now? Especially since she had a few days before she had to use that ticket. Maybe the wise thing to do would be to use this time to figure out if she could handle working with him as the boss she only saw a few times a month?
The next day when she walked in the door and felt the usual surge of rightness, she knew the job was worth fighting for. In her wildest dreams she’d never envisioned herself successful. Competent, making a living, getting a decent apartment? Yes. But never as one of the people at the top. Hiring employees. Creating atmosphere. Would she really let some feelings, one man, steal this from her?
No! No! She’d been searching for something her entire life. She believed she’d found it at Mancini’s. It would take more than unrequited love to scare her away from that.
When Emory sat down with her in between lunch and dinner and showed her the human resources software, more of the things she’d learned in her university classes tumbled back.
“So I’ll be doing all the admin?”
Emory nodded. “With Rafe gone, setting up Mancini’s Rome, I’ll be doing all the cooking. I won’t have time to help.”
“That’s fine.” She studied the software on the screen, simple stuff, really. Basically, it would do the accounting for her. And the rest? It was all common sense. Ordering. Managing the dining room. Hiring staff.
He squeezed her hand. “You and me...we make a good team.”
Her smile grew and her heart lightened. She loved Emory.
Even tempered with the staff and well acquainted with Rafe’s recipes, he was the perfect chef. As long as Rafe wasn’t around, she would be living her dream.
She returned his hand squeeze. “Yeah. We do.”
When she and Emory were nearly finished going over the software programs, Rafe walked into the office. As always when he was around, she tingled. But knowing this was one of the things she was going to have to deal with, because he wasn’t going away permanently, she simply ignored it.
“Have you taught her payroll?”
Emory rose from his seat. “Yes. In fact, she explained a thing or two to me.”
Rafe frowned. “How so?”
“She understands the software. I’m a chef. I do not.”
Dani also rose from her chair. “I’ve worked with software before to record grades. Essentially, most spreadsheet programs run on the same type of system, the same theories. My boyfriend—” She stopped when the word boyfriend caught in her throat. Emory’s gaze slid over to her. But Rafe’s eyes narrowed.
She took a slow, calming breath. “My ex-boyfriend Paul is a computer genius. I picked up a few things from him.”
Rafe turned away. “Well, let us be glad for him, then.”
He said the words calmly, but Dani heard the tension in his voice. There were feelings there. Not just lust. So it wouldn’t be only her own feelings she’d be fighting. She’d also have to be able to handle his. And that might be a little trickier.
“I’ve been in touch with a Realtor in Rome. I go to see buildings tomorrow.”
A look passed between him and Emory.
Emory tucked the software manual into the bottom bin of an in basket. “Good. It’s time to get your second restaurant up and running.” He slid from behind the desk. “But right now I have to supervise dinner.”
He scampered out of the room and Rafe’s gaze roamed over to hers again. “I’d like for you to come to Rome with me.”
Heat suffused her and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Me?”
“I want you to help me scout locations.”
“Really?”
“I told you. You are the one who created the atmosphere of this Mancini’s. If I want to re-create it, I think you need to be in on choosing the site.”
Because that made sense and because she did have to learn to deal with him as a boss, owner of the restaurant for which she worked, she tucked away any inappropriate longings and smiled. “Okay.”
She could be all business because that’s what really worked for them.
* * *
The next day, after walking through an old, run-down building with their Realtor, Rafe and Dani stepped out into the bright end-of-February day.
“I could do with a coffee right now.”
He glanced at her. In her sapphire-blue coat and white mittens, she looked cuddly, huggable. And very, very, ver
y off-limits. Her smiles had been cool. Her conversations stilted. But she’d warmed up a bit when they actually began looking at buildings.
“Haven’t you already had two cups of coffee?”
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, like a friend or a cousin, someone allowed innocent, meaningless touches.
“Don’t most Italians drink something like five cups a day?”
When he said, “Bah,” she laughed.
All morning, their conversation at his apartment two nights ago had played over and over and over in his head. She wanted a commitment and he didn’t. So he’d figured out a way they could be lovers and work together and she’d rejected it. He’d had to accept that.
But being with her this morning, without actually being allowed to touch her or even contemplate kissing her was making him think all kinds of insane things. Like how empty his life was. How much he would miss her when he stopped working at the original Mancini’s and headquartered himself in Rome.
So though he knew her hand at his elbow meant nothing, he savored the simple gesture. It was a safe, nonthreatening way to touch her and have her touch him. Even if he did know it would lead to nothing.
“Besides, I love coffee. It makes me warm inside.”
“True. And it is cold.” He slid his arm around her shoulders. Her thick coat might keep her toasty, but it was another excuse to touch her.
They continued down the quiet street, but as they approached a shop specializing in infant clothing, the wheels of a baby stroller came flying out the door and straight for Daniella’s leg. He caught her before she could as much as wobble and shifted her out of the way.
The apologetic mom said, “Scusi!”
Dani laughed. In flawless Italian she said, “No harm done.” Then she bent and chucked the chin of the baby inside the stroller. “Isn’t she adorable!”
The proud mom beamed. Rafe stole a quiet look at the kid and his lips involuntarily rose as a chuckle rumbled up from the deepest part of him. “She likes somebody’s cooking.”
The mom explained that the baby had her father’s love of all things sweet, but Rafe’s gaze stayed on the baby. She’d caught his eye and cooed at him, her voice a soft sound, almost a purr, and her eyes as shiny as a harvest moon.
A funny feeling invaded his chest.
Dani gave the baby a big, noisy kiss on the cheek, said goodbye to the mom and took his arm so they could resume their walk down the street.
They ducked into a coffeehouse and she inhaled deeply. “Mmm...this reminds me of being back in the States.”
He shook his head. “You Americans. You copy the idea of a coffeehouse from us, then come over here and act like we must meet your standards.”
With a laugh, she ordered two cups of coffee, remembering his choice of brews from earlier that morning. She also ordered two scones.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
She shrugged out of her coat before sitting on the chair he pulled out for her at a table near a window. “I just need something to take the edge off my growling stomach. The second scone is for you.”
“I don’t eat pastries from a vendor who sells in bulk.”
She pushed the second scone in front of him anyway. “Such a snob.”
He laughed. “All right. Fine. I will taste.” He bit into the thing and to his surprise it was very good. Even better with a sip or two of coffee. So tasty he ate the whole darned thing.
“Not quite the pastry snob anymore, are you?”
He sat back. He truly did not intend to pursue her. He respected her dreams, the way he respected his own. But that didn’t stop his feelings for her. With his belly full of coffee and scone, and Daniella happy beside him, these quiet minutes suddenly felt like spun gold.
She glanced around. “I’ll bet you’ve brought a woman or two here.”
That broke the spell. “What?” He laughed as he shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re familiar with this coffeehouse. This street. You were even alert enough to pull me out of the way of the oncoming stroller at that baby shop.” She shrugged. “You might not have come here precisely, but you’ve brought women to Rome.”
“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.
