by MK Meredith
As she and Drago headed for the door, Signor Minucci called after them. “I will see you soon, signora.”
She threw him a brilliant smile. “Si. Grazie.”
Drago narrowed his eyes. “I don’t remember you asking him about his family.”
Chase waved her hand, dismissing his words. “I came in with Lucinda the other day. I really want to get to know the businesses around Huntington House and utilize local resources. You know what I mean?”
Son of a bitch. Yes, he knew exactly what she meant. He’d underestimated her charm and how quickly she and Lucinda would get together. Since he couldn’t control any help she got from his ex, he’d have to focus on increasing the pressure inside the hotel.
Unless she managed to blow its budget all on her own. “How do you propose to afford that kind of luxury?” he asked, unable to help himself. “You have to balance your incoming cash flow with your expenditures based on planned profit margins.”
Her hand raised, stopping him, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you actually explaining to me how profit and loss works?” Something changed in her demeanor, and he felt the need to step back, but stood his ground.
“Yes. I am. You’re naive if you think—”
“Enough.” Her voice rose in agitation but remained tightly controlled. “Drago, I already have to prove myself to the board that runs our business, regardless of the fact that I’ve already done so time and time again. I refuse to have to prove anything to you. Just because you think you have all the answers does not mean that you do.”
The hell it didn’t. He was nothing if not a brilliant businessman. But he was also one who knew when to retreat. Apparently she didn’t appreciate being questioned. Not surprising for someone raised as she’d been, but he’d keep that observation to himself. “Forgive me,” he said instead. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, leaving a telltale path of goose bumps up her forearm. “Come, let’s stop for a drink.”
He led her down the cobblestones to his favorite little wine shop in silence, strategizing his next move. He might question her business decisions—though he’d learned to keep that to himself—but he couldn’t deny how they strengthened her relationships within the city. He’d have to keep an eye on that. Lucky for him, he had no plans to sleep while he was home.
They settled at a small table, and a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She didn’t hold a grudge, which surprised him. This American was always surprising him. With a nod of acceptance from her, he ordered for the two of them. “The house wine here is perfect.”
“Best in Ferrara?” she teased.
“Of course.”
“So.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “What exactly do you do for a living? You’ve never really told me. I know it’s business, but that’s about it.”
He debated how much to tell her. “I basically buy small, failing businesses and make them thrive again.”
She tilted her head. “Are they businesses that want to sell or have to sell?”
Something was bothering her. The way her eyes wavered before asking was a red flag. “Both.”
“And do you feel bad when it’s a business that has to sell?”
A server set two wineglasses on the table. Drago lifted his for a sip, then leaned back in his chair. “I’m a businessman. A quite successful one, before you ask. If an entity needs to sell, it’s because the owner failed in their duty. That isn’t my responsibility. Besides, emotion has no place in business. It isn’t personal.”
She stared at him, then as if deciding on something, shifted in her seat and crossed her leg over her knee. The edge of her gray skirt shifted up and exposed a few inches of thigh.
He cleared his throat and forced his eyes back to her face.
“I met Nonna a few nights ago.” She sipped from her glass.
If he’d ever needed his game face, it was at this very moment. It took all of his training and experience to keep his face expressionless and his tone normal. “Everyone in Ferrara knows Nonna.” He loosened the collar of his shirt. “How did that happen?”
“I went for a walk Wednesday evening and ended up at the inn. It looks like a mini castle from a storybook. I love it.” A dreamy smile crossed her face. “Of course, I don’t have to tell you. Anyway, I met her and we chatted a little bit. She has the most beautiful smile.”
“Yes, she does.” It reminds me of yours. He straightened and forced himself to stay focused. This was business, and at this particular moment his adversary was throwing him a few curveballs.
“She was incredible. Kind. And she had a way of seeing things. You know what I mean?”
He knew exactly what she meant. How many times during his childhood had he tried to hide his antics from Nonna only to be served the evidence and consequence on the same plate? He never could figure out how she did it. “She’s known throughout the whole town. Everyone’s nonna, not only mine.”
Chase nodded. “I saw it in action.” With a shrug, she waved her hand in the air as if to clear out a bothersome gnat. “Anyway, your business perspective helps a lot.”
What the hell was she on about? “What do you mean?”
“Well, I can see the inn is going through some sort of transition, and I was feeling guilty about how the Huntington House might affect business, but like you said…the state of affairs for the inn is not my responsibility. As horrible as that sounds to say out loud.” She threw him a sheepish grin. “But whoever Nonna had overseeing the inn neglected it. I find that so sad. I can tell she really loves it.” She put both feet on the ground and folded her hands in her lap. “But I can’t let that have anything to do with Huntington House. Business is business, right?”
His stomach twisted, and he pushed his wine away. The hotel was neglected because he’d been too selfish to do his job, to watch out for his family’s past and future. Gripping his hands under the table, he wanted to rail at her words. Yes, she should feel responsible. Cazzo! Her goddamn hotel opening would eat the inn whole if they couldn’t get a running start first.
But the hypocrisy of the situation kept him silent. How many times had he sat across the table of a failing businessman who had tears in his eyes, telling him business was business? So this was how it felt. He clenched his teeth to keep from saying too much.
“Drago De Luca, are you up to no good again?”
Talk about a bad situation getting worse. He dropped his head and swallowed down a growl, then stood to greet his grandmother. “Nonna. Sera.” He kissed both of her cheeks. Turning back to Chase, he said, “We were just talking about you.”
His grandmother brushed past him to embrace Chase. “Cara, so wonderful to see you again.” She turned back to Drago expectantly.
“I was telling her how you were Nonna to the whole town, not only me,” he said.
She smiled. “This is true, but most of all you. What have you been up to? I hear you are helping Miss Huntington?” The censure in her voice was unmistakable.
He cleared his throat, and with his back to Chase, shot his grandmother a look.
Which she promptly ignored.
With jeweled fingers, she reached for Chase’s hand. “Cara, come have dinner at the inn.”
Drago stepped between them. “Nonna, she would, but she has absolutely no extra time. Though I’m sure she loves the invitation.” He turned back to Chase. Desperation made for a stupid man, but he had to get her out of there fast. “We’d better be on our way. I have business to attend to this evening.”
Chase resisted his urgings. “Go, then. I can find my way home from here.” She turned back to his grandmother, dismissing him. “Nonna, there’s nothing I’d like more than to have dinner with you. But I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Why don’t you come to the hotel? Or we can go anywhere you like.”
Nonna tsked. “I won’t hear of it. I’d love to cook for you, cara.”
If his grandmother called Chase “dear” one more time he was going to have a heart at
tack. How in the hell had he let this happen? The two of them getting together was the worst possible development—if either woman figured out what he was really up to, he was screwed.
Nonna waved her fingers toward Drago. “You can even bring this bruta with you.”
“We’d love to come,” Chase replied warmly.
“Buona, buona.” Kissing both of Chase’s cheeks, she then turned to Drago and grabbed his chin. “Tuesday evening. Eight p.m. Don’t be late.” She gave him a stare that told him he was in trouble when he got home, immediately transporting him back to when he was fifteen and she’d caught him shoplifting from the bakery. There was no hiding the chocolate icing all over his mouth then, and there was no hiding his agenda with Chase now.
Cazzo. Nonna would never approve. Even to save the inn.
He pulled in a controlled breath and nodded. “Of course.”
They watched Nonna cross the room and greet another table of patrons, then turned back to their table. Drago rubbed the back of his neck. “Speak of the devil.”
Chase laughed. “You mean angel.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The devil is an angel.”
Lifting her wineglass, she threw him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? She’s magnificent and sweet and—”
“I know, I know. I grew up with her, remember?” Good God. What was happening? Chase at the inn? He’d never taken anyone there, not for dinner, not as a guest. Not even Lucinda. He didn’t take women to his childhood home. He’d give them a night to remember at his flat, but not the inn. Never the inn. A tight pinch formed in his chest.
“I’m assuming Tuesday will work for you then? It doesn’t appear that even you would tell Nonna no.”
He pressed his lips together to keep from saying anything as she giggled behind her hand. She’d enjoyed that whole interaction way too much. And here he’d thought his day was going according to plan. Nothing seemed to be going as planned since Chase came strutting into town. He was slipping, and that was unacceptable.
Taking in the humor shining from her eyes, he forced a smile. Not only did he have to take Chase to his childhood home, but he had to make sure neither woman discovered his plan.
He’d never been able to stay off Nonna’s radar growing up, and the addition of a decade or two hadn’t changed that. But he had to stay off Chase’s.
The future of the inn depended on it.
Chapter Nine
Tuesday evening came regardless of the many attempts Drago made at canceling. But neither his grandmother nor Chase would go for any of his excuses, concerns, or suggestions. Since avoidance wasn’t an option, he’d put plan B into place. Managing the two women shouldn’t prove to be too difficult. He would control the evening, keep Nonna and Chase friendly but not friends, and then get the American out of his childhood home before she could screw with his memories there or his plan to save the inn.
Feeling a bit more in control for the first time in days, he went through the motions of putting on a tie. Cross over, back under, loop through, and slide. The steps centered him as they always did. He wasn’t only dressing for dinner, he was dressing for business—for battle.
He’d preferred to pick Chase up but she’d refused with the excuse of work. He hated the idea of her out there in his town without him. Actually, it was the effect she was having on the people of Ferrara he was afraid of. But in the end it wouldn’t matter, as long as she changed the date of the opening. He cracked his neck, then adjusted his cuffs. She was a challenging adversary to say the least—the town falling in love with her certainly hadn’t been part of the plan—but that only made it all the more interesting. He wouldn’t respect her as much as he did if she made it too easy. Or so he told himself, but what his brain really got stuck on was his use of the word “love.”
He scoffed at the empty room. Love was an emotion that blinded men and drugged women. The only time there was any room for it was with a child and their parent, but even then it wasn’t guaranteed. His parents had no idea the affliction even existed. His father’s leaving really hadn’t been the worst of his childhood; it had been his mother’s staying but being completely unreachable. To her credit, she hadn’t checked out physically until he and his brothers had all left for university. He didn’t know what country she lived in at the moment.
Nonna was the one woman—hell, the one person—who was worthy of the usually poisonous emotion. She’d been there for him when no one else had cared. She’d seen through his shit to the heart of the matter, and understood he was hurting.
With one last look in the mirror, he went in search of his grandmother. It was time for damage control before Chase arrived. If his instincts told him anything, it was that Nonna was up to something.
“Nonna,” he called out as he wound his way through the inn to the kitchen, the scent of pumpkin and spices greeting him. As expected, she stood as sparkly as any king’s treasure chest in front of the oven, checking on the golden crust of the twisted X shape of the coppia ferrarese—his favorite kind of bread. It was a secret family recipe that modified the original Ferrara tradition a touch and went back generations. His mouth watered.
She turned from the stove with the smile that told him he was loved whether he wanted to be or not, whether he was comfortable believing it or not. “Oh, buona, buona. You can help me with dinner.”
“We need to talk.” He rounded the table and leaned against the counter. “I’m simply offering my translating services.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You never do anything simply.” She continued to eye him, her expression serious and knowing. Someday he’d have to ask her how the hell she did it.
“I’m keeping an eye on the competition, trying to come up with a means for the inn’s opening to be successful. We only have two weeks left, and our contractors have barely finished with the repairs out front. We still have the inspection and God knows what that may turn up. Look, Nonna, we can’t compete against a hotel like Huntington House out of the gate. Our strength lies in our history and ties to Ferrara, but the newness, the novelty of Huntington will take time to wear off. Time we don’t have.” He gave her a hard stare. “Unless you’ll finally agree to let me give you the money.”
“No.” She put her hand up. Her lips trembled, and she sniffed in an attempt to hold her tears at bay.
“Nonna, why are you being so stubborn? You’d rather lose the inn?”
She shook her head, swiping with a jeweled hand at a tear that escaped. “My heart is breaking, but…” She straightened her spine and smiled as she searched his eyes. “Tell me something, caro. Did you feel loved, taken care of, when you were growing up?”
Shifting from one foot to the other, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Of course. You were always there for me.”
She pressed her hand to her heart with a smile—a concerned smile that left his collar too tight. “That is so good to hear, but what of your mother and father, eh?”
Why was she bringing them into this? Surely she could see he was fine without them. They were all better off, in fact. He scowled with a small shake of his head.
“Exactly. What can be said when a father walks out and a mother checks out?” She grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. “They only knew how to take and take. They’ve taken your childhood, they’ve taken money.”
He stared past her at a spot on the wall where the large ceiling beams ended.
Warm fingers pressed gently against his cheek until he met her eyes. She tapped his chin twice. “Caro, you’ve already lost too much from your family, and I refuse to take more.”
“Nonna.”
She stepped back with a raised palm, stopping him from arguing further. “What I need is you, Drago. Your business sense, your time. Please, let me keep what we have together untarnished. You will figure out what to do about Diego and the inn. And as for Chase, she’s a lovely woman trying to find her way in this world like the rest of us.”
It was the look in her eye that left him on edge. She
didn’t know his plan, but she knew him. He cleared his throat. “She’s the woman whose family owns the hotel that will close Casa di Nonna. You have to see that.”
“No, what I see…” Her eyes traveled the well-organized, well-loved space with a look that spoke of years of memories. “What I see is a home that will be lost because the family blessed with it didn’t put into it what they took from it.”
Cazzo. He’d probably said those exact words time and again to justify his buyouts. A heavy weight settled on his shoulders and filled his gut. “Nonna.”
She raised a hand. “I take as much, if not more, responsibility. I should have seen what Diego was up to. He’d lived a lifestyle that wasn’t supported by his position, but I never imagined he was capable of stealing from us.”
“And why would you? He was practically family.”
Her lips tipped down, and she glanced away. Pulling in a resigned breath, she once again found Drago’s gaze. “I think we know by now that family doesn’t always mean what it should.”
His chest tightened. He’d give anything to put the smile back on her face. “You have me, Nonna. I know I haven’t been here when you needed me the most, but I’m here now for as long as I can be. Please, let me fix this. Don’t say anything to Chase about the real state of the inn.”
“I won’t lie for you…or myself, caro.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders in a gentle grip. “I’m not asking you to. I’m simply asking that you don’t offer any information. Let me guide the conversation tonight. You can show her a nice evening, and we can send her on her way.”
Nonna eyed him up and down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so afraid of a woman before.”
Now he scoffed. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of Chase Huntington. That is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
The lobby bell chimed, interrupting the brilliant and succinct reply that would have surely sprung from his mouth. Afraid? Not in this lifetime. He rubbed the back of his neck again as he went to collect their guest.
