A Bride for the Italian Boss

by Susan Meier

  “Not only can we give customers the chance to wait at the bar for their tables, but also we might get a little extra drink business.” She smiled at him as she walked over. “Things will be just a tad different in a restaurant that’s actually in a residential area of a city.” Her smile grew. “But I think it could be fun to play around with it.”

  He crossed his arms on his chest to keep from touching her. He could almost feel the excitement radiating from her. While he envisioned a dining room, happy customers eating his food, he could tell she saw more. Much more. She saw things he couldn’t bring into existence because all he cared about was the food.

  “What would you play around with?”

  Her gaze circled the room. “I’m not sure. We’d want to keep the atmosphere we’ve build up in Mancini’s, but here we’d also have to become part of the community. You can get some really great customer relations by being involved with your neighbors.” She tapped her finger on her lips. “I’ll need to think about this.”

  Rafe’s business instincts kicked in. He didn’t know what she planned to do, but he did know whatever she decided, it would probably be good. Really good. Because she had the other half of the gift he’d been given.

  He also knew she was happy. Happier than he’d ever seen her. Her blue eyes lit with joy. Her shoulders were back. Her steps purposeful. Confidence radiated from her.

  “You want Mancini’s to be successful as much as I want it to be successful.”

  She laughed. “I doubt that. But I do want it to be the best it can be.” She glanced around, then faced him again. “In all the confusion between us, I don’t think I’ve ever said thank-you.”

  “You wish to thank me?”

  “For the job. For the fun of it.” She shrugged. “I need this. I don’t show it often but deep down inside me, there’s a little girl who always wondered where she’d end up. She needed the chance to be successful. To prove her worth.”

  He smiled. “She’ll certainly get that with Mancini’s.”

  “And we’re going to have a good time whipping this into shape.”

  He smiled. “That’s the plan.”

  Her face glowed. “Good.”

  He said, “Good,” but his voice quieted, his heart stilled, as he suddenly realized something he should have all along. Kamila had broken his heart. But Dani had wheedled her way into his soul. His dream.

  If he and Dani got close and things didn’t work out, he wouldn’t just spend a month drinking himself silly. He’d lose everything.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE NEXT DAY in the parking lot of Mancini’s, Dani switched off the ignition of Louisa’s little car, knowing that she was two days away from D-day. Decision day. The day she had to use her return ticket to New York City.

  Being with Rafe in Rome had shown her he respected her opinion. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? Telling her about Kamila had been his way of putting the final nail in the coffin of her relationship dreams. It hurt, but she understood. In fact, in a way she was even glad. Now that she knew why he was so determined, she could filter her feelings for him away from her longing for a relationship with him and into his dream. He needed her opinion. He wanted to focus on food, on pleasing customer palates. She saw the ninety thousand other things that had to be taken care of. Granted, he’d chosen a great spot for the initial Mancini’s. He’d fixed the building to perfection. But a restaurant in the city came with different challenges.

  Having lived in New York and eaten at several different kinds of restaurants, she saw things from a customer’s point of view. And she knew exactly how she’d set up Mancini’s Rome restaurant.

  She knew.

  The confidence of it made her forget all about returning to New York, and stand tall. She entered the kitchen on her way to the office, carrying a satchel filled with pictures she’d printed off the internet the night before using Louisa’s laptop.

  This was her destiny.

  Then she saw Rafe entering through the back door and her heart tumbled. He wore the black leather jacket. He hadn’t pulled his hair into the tie yet and it curled around his collar. His eyes were cool, serious. When their gazes met, she swore she could feel the weight of his sadness.

  She didn’t understand what the hell he had to be sad about. He was getting everything he wanted. Except her heart. He didn’t know that he already had her love, but their good trip the day before proved they could work together, even be friends, and he should appreciate that.

  Everything would be perfect, as long as he didn’t kiss her. Or tempt her. And yesterday he’d all but proven he needed her too much to risk losing her.

  “I have pictures of things I’d like your opinion on.”

  Emory looked from one to the other. “Pictures?”

  Rafe slowly ambled into the kitchen. “Dani has ideas for the restaurant in Rome.”

  Emory gaped at him. “Who cares? You have a hundred-person wedding tomorrow afternoon.”

  Dani’s mouth fell open. Rafe’s eyes widened. “We didn’t cancel that?”

  “We couldn’t,” Emory replied before Dani said anything, obviously taking the heat for it. “So I called the bride’s mother yesterday and got the specifics. Tomorrow morning, we’ll all come here early to get the food prepared. In the afternoon Dani and I will go to the wedding. I will watch your food, Chef Mancini. Your reputation will not suffer.”

  Rafe slowly walked over to Dani. “You know we cannot do this again!”

  “Come on, Chef Rafe.” She smiled slightly, hoping to dispel the tension, again confused over why he was so moody. “Put Mr. Mean Chef away. I got the message the day you fired me over this.” With that she strode into the office, dumped her satchel on the desk and swung out again. She thought of the plane ticket in her pocket and reminded herself that in two days she wouldn’t have that option. When he yelled, she’d have to handle it.

  “I’ll be in the dining room, checking with Allegra on how things went yesterday.”

  * * *

  Rafe sagged with defeat as she stormed out. He shouldn’t have yelled at her again about the catering, but everything in his life was spinning out of control. He saw babies in his sleep and woke up hugging his pillow, dreaming he was hugging Daniella. The logical part of him insisted they were a team, that a real relationship would enhance everything they did. They would own Mancini’s together, build it together, build a life together.

  The other part, the part that remembered Kamila, could only see disaster when the relationship ended. When Kamila left, he could return to his dream. If Dani left, she took half of his dream with her.

  He faced Emory. “I appreciate how you have handled this. And I apologize for exploding.” He sucked in a breath. “As penance, I will go to the wedding tomorrow.”

  Emory laughed. “If you’re expecting me to argue, you’re wrong. I don’t want to be a caterer, either.”

  “As I said, this is penance.”

  “Then you really should be apologizing to Dani. It was her you screamed at.”

  He glanced at the door as he shrugged out of his jacket. She was too upset with him now. And she was busy. He would find a minute at the end of the night to apologize for his temper. If he was opting out of a romance because he needed her, he couldn’t lose her over his temper.

  But she didn’t hang around after work that night. And the next morning, he couldn’t apologize because they weren’t alone. First, he’d cooked with a full staff. Then he’d had to bring Laz and Gino, two of the busboys, to the wedding to assist with setup and teardown. They drove to the vineyard in almost complete silence, every mile stretching Rafe’s nerves.

  Seeing the sign for 88 Vineyards, he turned down the winding lane. The top of a white tent shimmered in the winter sun. Thirty yards away, white folding chairs created two wide rows of seating for guests. He could see the bride and groom standing in front of the clergyman, holding hands, probably saying their vows.

  He pulled the SUV beside the tent. “It looks
like we’ll need to move quickly to get everything set up for them to eat.”

  Dani opened her door of the SUV. “Not if there are pictures. I’ve known brides who’ve taken hours of pictures.”

  “Bah. Nonsense.”

  Ignoring him, she climbed out of the SUV.

  Rafe opened his door and recessional music swelled around him. Still Dani said nothing. Her cold shoulder stung more than he wanted to admit.

  A quick glance at the wedding ceremony netted him the sight of the bride and groom coming down the aisle. The sun cast them in a golden glow, but their smiles were even more radiant. He watched as the groom brought the bride’s hand to his lips. Saw the worship in his eyes, the happiness, and immediately Rafe thought of Daniella. About the times he’d kissed her hand. Walked her to her car. Waited with bated breath for her arrival every morning.

  He reached into his SUV to retrieve a tray of his signature ravioli. Handing it to Laz, he sneaked a peek at Daniella as she made her way to the parents of the bride, who’d walked out behind the happy couple. They smiled at her, the bride’s mom talking a million words a second as she pointed inside the tent. Daniella set her hand on the mom’s forearm and suddenly the nervous woman calmed.

  He watched in heart-stealing silence. A lifetime of rejection had taught her to be kind. And one failed romance had made him mean. Bitter.

  As he pulled out the second ravioli tray, Dani walked over.

  “Apparently the ceremony was lovely.”

  “Peachy.”

  “Come on. I know you’re mad at me for arranging this. But at the time, I didn’t know any better and in a few hours all of this will be over.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I’m not mad at you. I’m angry with myself—” Because I finally understand I’m not worried about you leaving me, or even losing my dreams. I’m disappointed in myself “—for yelling at you yesterday.”

  “Oh.” She smiled slowly. “Thanks.”

  The warm feeling he always got when she smiled invaded every inch of him. “You’re welcome.”

  Not waiting for him to say anything else, she headed inside the white tent where the dinner and reception would be held. He followed her only to discover she was busy setting up the table for the food. He and Laz worked their magic on the warmers he’d brought to keep everything the perfect temperature. Daniella and Gino brought in the remaining food.

  And nothing happened.

  People milled around the tables in the tent, chatting, celebrating the marriage. Wine flowed from fancy bottles. The mother of the bride socialized. The parents of the groom walked from table to table. A breeze billowed around the tent as everyone talked and laughed.

  He stepped outside, nervous now. He’d never considered himself wrong, except that he’d believed giving up apprenticeships for Kamila had made him weak. But setback after setback had made Dani strong. It was humbling to realize his master-chef act wasn’t a sign of strength, but selfishness. Even more humbling to realize he didn’t know what to do with the realization.

  Wishing he still smoked, he ambled around the grounds, gazing at the blue sky, and then he turned to walk down a cobblestone path, only to find himself three feet away from the love-struck bride and groom.

  He almost groaned, until he noticed the groom lift the bride’s chin and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

  His eyebrows rose. They hadn’t even been married twenty minutes and there was trouble in paradise already?

  She quietly said, “Everything is not going to be okay. My parents are getting a divorce.”

  Rafe thought of the woman in pink, standing with the guy in the tux as they’d chatted with Dani at the end of the ceremony, and he almost couldn’t believe it.

  The groom shook his head. “And they’re both on their best behavior. Everything’s fine.”

  “For now. What will I do when we get home from our honeymoon? I’ll have to choose between the two of them for Christmas and Easter.” She gasped. “I’ll have to get all my stuff out of their house before they sell it.” She sucked in a breath. “Oh, my God.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I have no home.”

  Rafe’s chest tightened. He heard every emotion Dani must feel in the bride’s voice. No home. No place to call her own.

  A thousand emotions buffeted him, but for the first time since he’d met Dani he suddenly felt what she felt. The emptiness of belonging to no one. The longing for a place to call her own. And he realized the insult he’d leveled when he’d told her he wanted to sleep with her, but not keep her.

  “I’ll be your home.” The groom pulled his bride away from the tree. “It’s us now. We’ll make your home.”

  We’ll make your home.

  Rafe stepped back, away from the tree that hid him, the words vibrating through him. But the words themselves were nothing without the certainty behind them. The strength of conviction in the groom’s voice. The promise that wouldn’t be broken.

  We’ll make your home.

  “Let’s go inside. We have a wedding to celebrate.”

  She smiled. “Yes. We do.”

  Rafe discreetly followed them into the tent. He watched them walk to the main table as if nothing was wrong, as the dining room staff scrambled to fill serving bowls with his food and get it onto tables.

  The toast of the best man was short. Rafe’s eyes strayed to Daniella. He desperately wanted to give her a home. A real one. A home like he’d grown up in with kids and a dog and noisy suppers.

  This was what life had stolen from her and from him. When Kamila left, she hadn’t taken his dream. She’d bruised him so badly, he’d lost his faith in real love. He’d lost his dream of a house and kids. And when it all suddenly popped up in the form of a woman so beautiful that she stole his breath, he hadn’t seen it.

  Dear God. He loved her. He loved her enough to give up everything he wanted, even Mancini’s, to make her dreams come true. But he wouldn’t have to give up anything. His dream was her dream. And her dream was now his dream.

  Their meal eaten, the bride and groom rose from the table. The seating area was quickly dismantled by vineyard staff, who left a circle of chairs around the tent and a clear floor on which to dance.

  The band introduced the bride and groom and he took her hand and kissed it before he led her in their dance.

  Emotion choked Rafe. He’d spent the past years believing the best way to live his dream was to hold himself back, forget love, when the truth was he simply needed to meet the right woman to realize his dream would be hollow, empty without her.

  “Hey.” Daniella walked up beside him. “Dinner is over. We can dismantle our warmers, take our trays and go home.”

  He faced her. Emotions churned inside him. Feelings for Dani that took root and held on. He’d found his one. He’d fired her, yelled at her, asked her to become his lover. And she’d held her ground. Stood up to him. Refused him. Forced him to work by her terms. And she had won him.

  But he had absolutely no idea how to tell her that.

  She picked up an empty tray and headed for his SUV. Grabbing up another empty tray, he scurried after her.

  “I’ve been thinking about our choice.”

  She slid the tray into the SUV. “Our choice?”

  “You know. Our choice not to—”

  Before he could finish, the busboys came out of the tent with more trays. Frustration stiffened his back. With a quick glance at him, Dani walked back to the noisy reception for more pans. The busboys got the warmers.

  Simmering with the need to talk, Rafe silently packed it all inside the back of his SUV.

  Nerves filled him as he drove his empty pans, warmers and employees to Mancini’s. When they arrived, the restaurant bustled with diners. Emory raced around the kitchen like a madman. Daniella pitched in to help Allegra. Rafe put on his smock, washed his hands and helped Emory.

  Time flew, as it always did when he was busy, but Rafe kept watching Daniella. Something was on her mind. She smiled. She worked. She
teased with staff. But he heard something in her voice. A catch? No it was more of an easing back. The click of connection he always heard when she spoke with staff was missing. It was as if she were distancing herself—

  Oh, dear God.

  In all the hustle and bustle that had taken place in the past four weeks, she’d never made the commitment to stay.

  And she had a plane ticket for the following morning.

  The night wound down. Emory headed for the office to do some paperwork. Rafe casually ambled into the dining room. As the last of the waitstaff left, he pulled a bottle of Chianti from the rack and walked around the bar to a stool.

  He watched Dani pause at the podium, as if torn between reaching for her coat and joining him. His heart chugged. Everything inside him froze.

  Finally, she turned to him. Her lips lifted into a warm smile and she sashayed over.

  Interpreting her coming to him as a good sign, he didn’t give himself time to think twice. He caught her hands, lifted both to his lips and said, “Pick me.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What?”

  “I know you’re thinking about leaving. I see it on your face. Hear it in your voice. I know you think you have nothing here but a job, but that’s not true. I need you for so much more. So pick me. Do not work for me. Pick me. Keep me. Take me.”

  Her breath hitched. “You’re asking me to quit?”

  “No.” He licked his suddenly dry lips. He’d known this woman only twenty-four days. Yet what he felt was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before.

  “Daniella, I think I want you to marry me.”

  * * *

  Dani’s heart bounced to a stop as she yanked her hands out of his.

  “What?”

  “I want you to marry me.”

  She couldn’t stop the thrill that raced through her, but even through her shock she’d heard his words clearly. “You said think. You said you think you want to marry me.”

  He laughed a bit as he pulled his hand through his hair. “It’s so fast for me. My God, I never even thought I’d want to get married. Now I can’t imagine my life without you.” He caught her hand again, caught her gaze. “Marry me.”