A Gentleman's Kiss Romance Collection

by Ginny Aiken

  “If that means I may have a table, then yes, I am,” he said.

  His piercing gaze bore into hers as his chin lowered, as if he were a little boy pleading for a piece of candy. Was he flirting with her? Well, she’d encountered all sorts of guises patrons often used to get a table when none were available. She would say to him what she’d heard her parents say when some of their friends dropped in at the last moment.

  “I will find you a table if I have to build it myself, Mr. Baldovino.”

  “You … own the restaurant?” he asked.

  “My parents do,” she said. “I’m Eva Alono.”

  That slight movement of his eyebrows up, then down in rhythm to his nod gave her the impression of a conductor giving his nod to the orchestra at the beginning of a concert.

  Strangely, she could almost hear the music.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’m Georgio to such a lovely young lady who appears to know me.”

  “Thank you,” she said, not accustomed to such a compliment from a famous violinist, or anyone for that matter, except maybe her grandpa. In fact, she’d never been face-to-face with such a famous violinist before. The newspaper articles and advertisements said he had been a child prodigy, the son of famous opera stars and musicians. He’d been the child actor in many productions of Madame Butterfly, accustomed to audiences and orchestras. In his teen years, he’d played the violin in the orchestra while his parents performed. Now, at only thirty years of age, he had become one of the most widely acclaimed violinists in the world and in a matter of weeks would be performing at the concert hall.

  “I only know you from some of your publicity,” she said. “I have already made arrangements for one of the best seats at your concert.”

  She thought he looked surprised, but he said, “I’m honored.”

  She smiled. “So, what can I do but offer you the best seat in our restaurant?” She picked up a printed program and stepped out from behind the partition. “We don’t use menus on Fridays, we use a program.”

  He paused. “Is this a private party?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s just that Friday nights are so popular, we insist upon reservations. Would you prefer a table up front?”

  He followed her into the large dining area and looked around at tables where waiters and waitresses were ensuring their stations were properly set up. “Perhaps near the stage,” he said, “at the side.”

  Eva felt like she was walking on air and at the same time was afraid she’d trip over her own feet or bump into a table. She felt sure he’d wanted to sit at the side so he wouldn’t be in the light from the stage when the entertainment began.

  The thought of that caused her heart to drop into her socks—except she wasn’t wearing socks. How could she possibly play the violin with Georgio Baldovino listening?

  Poorly, probably!

  At least she was dressed elegantly in a Spanish-style red dress with a vee neckline and a multilayered gold necklace. She wore large hoop earrings, and her dark hair was pulled back into a twist, adorned with a gold clasp. On Friday nights, when her schedule allowed, she donned Spanish-style clothes and became part of the restaurant’s entertainment. Tonight, the maître d’ was delayed, so Eva was elected by her parents to seat any patrons with reservations who might come earlier than the dinner hour.

  Georgio approved of the small table for two at the side, where he would have a perfect view of the stage. “Very nice.” He stood holding on to the back of the chair. “Would you join me for a moment, or are you too busy making tables for your invisible guests?”

  She hoped the dim lighting covered her blush. She did not respond to his request, being sure her imagination had conjured up the thought that he asked her to join him. Such a thing could happen only in one’s dreams.

  “I’ll … I’ll get your water.” She laid the program on the table.

  He nodded and pulled out his chair, sat, and placed his violin under the table.

  Eva hurried into the kitchen. Marco, the waiter for the section she’d just left, followed her in and picked up a gold-rimmed crystal goblet.

  “I’ll take his water,” she told him.

  Marco looked dumbfounded, and the chef glanced up from where he was artistically decorating dessert dishes with strings of liquid chocolate.

  Lest they think Marco had done something wrong, she quickly told them about Georgio Baldovino.

  The chef seemed to think his chocolate was more important, and Marco shrugged a shoulder.

  “Never mind,” she said. “Just don’t come near his table until I give the word.”

  Marco filled the goblet with water. Looking unhappy, he handed it to her.

  Eva took a deep breath, left the kitchen, and walked toward the table, where Georgio was looking at the program. She was placing the goblet on the table when someone walked up beside her. Perhaps the maître d’ had arrived. Just as she started to let go of the glass, the person in that deep baritone voice she’d never forgotten said, “Hello, Beautiful.”

  More startled than when she’d recognized Georgio Baldovino, Eva whirled around, despite telling herself to remain calm upon looking at that tall, blond man with the dreamy sea green eyes. Her emotions didn’t obey, and her fingers loosened from around the glass. She felt it tip. Her head jerked toward it and she tried to reach it, just as Georgio tried. Their hands collided and the goblet toppled over. The fragile glass clinked against the table and shattered as if a soprano had sung her high C note. Water poured across the table.

  Eva gasped as Georgio jumped up, jerked his violin from under the table, and stepped back, causing the chair to overturn and crash to the floor.

  In horror, she stared at Georgio, who held out his violin case and gazed at it as if someone had attacked his baby. He managed to mumble in a relieved tone, “It’s not wet.”

  “Are … are you?” Eva stammered.

  “No.” He nodded toward the table with an expression of disdain. “However, you have a completely doused table and a huge puddle forming on the floor.”

  Jack Darren stepped closer and reached for the centerpiece on the table. “Eva, maybe you can find a sponge or something to clean this up.” He moved the centerpiece to another table. “Speaking of sponges,” he said in the manner of one telling a story, “have you ever wondered how much deeper the ocean would be without sponges?”

  It took a moment, then a small chuckle sounded from Georgio. Eva felt relieved that he would laugh rather than storm out of the restaurant in disgust. Eva smiled after a fleeting glance at Jack, then at Georgio, who returned her smile, then laid his violin on a nearby chair.

  Jack always had a way of putting people—except her—at ease. He could turn a sticky situation into a bearable one and make you see the humor in things instead of getting bent out of shape.

  The water incident began to seem trivial. Come to think of it, although proving herself to be a total klutz, she felt rather good about being called “lovely” and “beautiful” by two different men in less than five minutes.

  One was a man she wanted to know better. The other was one she had tried to forget.

  Chapter 2

  While Eva summoned a waiter, Jack introduced himself to the man with the violin and recognized the name of Georgio Baldovino. He quickly deduced that Eva hadn’t met the violinist before and they weren’t here together, otherwise she wouldn’t have been bringing water to his table when there were numerous waiters and waitresses about.

  It held to reason she was trying to meet this fellow. Spilling his water was one way to do it, but it was also taking a chance. Had the water seeped into his violin case, this restaurant could well be in for a lawsuit.

  But he didn’t think she did it purposely. He’d startled her. Had he been anyone but Jack Darren, he felt sure she would have remained as calm as a cucumber. He understood her reaction. He’d hoped she’d grown out of the resentment she’d had for him and the hurt she’d felt over the entire incident with him and her grandpa
. Apparently, she hadn’t. Perhaps she’d never expected, and never wanted, to see him again.

  Eva returned, followed by Marco, who greeted Jack exuberantly, then set about seeing that a younger waiter, obviously being trained by Marco, returned the table and floor to its previous condition.

  “Again, I’m sorry,” Eva said, moving closer to Baldovino. “Please excuse me now. I play the violin at the beginning of the meal.”

  “How delightful,” Baldovino said with exuberance.

  “No,” Eva contradicted. “Compared with you, I’m very much the amateur.”

  “Ah,” he returned. “And compared with you, I am the rain and you are the rainbow. And you will return to me, no?”

  “Thank you. Yes.”

  Jack realized Eva had a confidence now that she hadn’t four years ago. He stepped over to Eva, feeling daunted by her indifference to him, and this … exchange … going on between her and Baldovino. Neither suggested that he join them. “Are your parents here?” he asked.

  “Yes, and I just saw Grandpa go to the family table. Go on back.”

  After knocking on the Alonos’ office door, Jack received the kind of “welcome home” greeting from Eva’s parents that he’d desired. As he expected, they told him to sit at the family table. He got a cup of coffee and seated himself with Grandpa Al, across the room from where Baldovino now sat and where Marco was putting two place settings. As if sensing someone looking at him, Baldovino’s gaze seemed to meet Jack’s from across the room, which was beginning to fill with expectant patrons.

  Jack quickly returned his attention to his coffee cup.

  “So, you found yourself, huh?” Al asked in that blunt way of his.

  Jack laughed lightly. “That is why I left, isn’t it?” He looked at the wise old man. “I discovered I took myself with me. Couldn’t escape him. And, too,” he added on a wistful note, “I discovered I left a part of myself right here in my own hometown.”

  Al was nodding as he eyed the waiters taking gold-rimmed crystal goblets of water to the tables.

  “And you’re not surprised at that,” Jack said, rather than ask.

  “No.” Al returned his attention to Jack. “You were sort of a lost soul after your parents decided to take their production tours abroad. Left you without a base.”

  Jack was nodding. “Thanks to you, I found that base. And I have it now no matter where I alight. Now I’d like to give others the kind of lifeline you gave to me.”

  Al reached over and grasped Jack’s arm. “Good to have you home, Jack.”

  “Like the saying goes, home is where the heart is.”

  Al gave him that knowing stare, then focused on the stage when Roberto Alono announced, “Welcome.” After a brief greeting and informing the patrons about their choice of two entrées, Roberto announced the protocol for the evening, although it was printed on the programs.

  Jack knew the reason for the programs. Many patrons came to Alono’s precisely for the opportunity to see Roberto and Beverly Alono and would seek autographs from the once-famous pair.

  After adding his own words about the artists who would entertain between courses, Roberto introduced Eva. He said she was one of a string quartet of growing popularity and working with her grandpa in his business of violin making and repair.

  “My lovely daughter, Eva Alono, will now play our invocation on the violin.” A serious look crossed his face as he looked out at the guests and said, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

  Strange, how nothing seemed to change in four years, then again everything seemed to change. The routine was basically the same. Sometimes the Alono family had groups come in and perform. Jack himself had played the piano and sung many times.

  Jack remembered his parents singing there one evening. His dad played the piano while his mom stood with her arm resting on it, looking at his dad while they sang, “So in Love.”

  Jack had glanced at Eva and saw a special light in her eyes as she gazed at him. He had looked away and dismissed it. He hadn’t been ready to consider love on a serious plane.

  Now, Eva coolly disregarded him.

  The restaurant patrons became courteously silent as Eva stepped into the spotlight. She smiled briefly, lifted the violin to her shoulder, placed the side of her face on the chin rest, raised the bow, and with a professional expertise began playing the beautiful melody of “Let Us Break Bread Together.”

  Jack closed his eyes to concentrate, not on the woman, but on the words that included breaking bread together, drinking the cup together, praising God together, on one’s knees. He knew the words and the meaning of the song, which was a traditional spiritual.

  He felt the joy of the song about one facing the rising sun, imploring the Lord to have mercy on him. Jack had experienced it. He had even sung it here in this place, words that had been beautiful words, but not the priority of his life. The memory of it, and the Alonos, had drawn him back … back to his roots.

  When Eva finished, Jack, along with the patrons, applauded as she made an appreciative bow, then left the stage to share a table, not with her family, but with someone who could possibly present the opportunity for her to have a much larger audience than she could ever have at Alono’s.

  After the salad course, Roberto Alono and his English wife, Beverly, who looked as Spanish as any other flamenco dancer with her russet-colored hair and dark eyes, wowed the crowd with their bright costumes and fancy footwork and the flirtatious glances between the pair.

  They had been professional artists of the dance before retiring. They had canceled tours and settled down to raise Eva and help Al with the care of his ailing wife. They opened Alono’s Restaurant. Now they danced only for each other and to the Lord.

  After the dance, Beverly and Roberto changed into evening clothes and joined Jack and Al. Waiters brought out huge round trays balanced on their hands and shoulders, then served the chosen entrées to the happy guests conversing in lively tones.

  Having read the program, Jack felt they, too, would look forward to the break between the entrées and dessert when the folksinging with guitar would be performed by several of the waiters and waitresses who were students of music.

  “Well,” Beverly commented, “looks like Eva is occupied this evening.”

  Jack explained the status of Baldovino.

  Of course they had heard of him, and Al filled in the rest from what he’d known and read in the paper.

  “Ohh,” Beverly said with lifted eyebrows, while Roberto stared across the room. “Did you know about this, Al?”

  His “no” was as drawn out as Beverly’s exclamation. “She would have mentioned it or perhaps have shouted it from the rooftops.”

  A delighted little laugh escaped Beverly’s exquisite throat. “Then perhaps this is rather like a director who drops in at a community theater and discovers a star.”

  They all laughed lightly while Jack pasted a smile on his face.

  Later, after the performances ended and guests lingered over coffee while a pianist played, Jack noticed that Baldovino was showing his violin to Eva. Likely, it was a Stradivarius. Knowing how she felt about the violin, Jack knew that would impress her more than anything he could do.

  From Eva’s point of view, Jack had taken from her what she had considered a most valuable and desired asset—something he could not return to her.

  And judging from her reticence tonight, she had not forgiven him.

  Chapter 3

  Eva couldn’t wait to get Rissa on the phone.

  “Oh, Rissa. Sorry if I woke you. But this couldn’t wait. You’ll never guess whose table I shared last night at the restaurant.”

  Rissa laughed. “Sure I can. This will pay you back for calling before I’ve had my morning coffee. It’s Jack. He called yesterday to let me know he’s back in town and said he would surprise you at the restaurant. Ha. Gotcha!”

  Eva moaned. Her emotional balloon was momentarily deflated. “No, Rissa. I mean, Jack was there, but that’s not
who I’m excited about.”

  “Well, it sure used to be,” Rissa reminded her.

  Eva closed her eyes against that statement and the memories it elicited. She didn’t want to think about Jack. She didn’t want to talk about Jack. He was history. “That was years ago.”

  “Okay, without caffeine I couldn’t possibly imagine who would make you chance waking me early on Saturday morning if it’s not Jack.”

  Eva wished the name Jack was not in Rissa’s vocabulary! She said with the best Italian accent she could muster, “I met Georgio.”

  “Georgio? What is that?”

  “A person,” Eva wailed.

  “Well, Georgio who?”

  “Rissa. There’s only one Georgio.”

  Eva could almost hear Rissa thinking. “Not … not the one in the newspaper article that you cut out and danced around with!”

  “The one and only. Not only did I spend the evening with him. He’s coming here at ten o’clock this morning.”

  Now, Eva could visualize Rissa sitting up in bed with her mouth wide open in disbelief. Eva laughed. “We ate together. We talked and he asked me to call him Georgio. Annnnd …” She stretched out the word. “He even said I was a lovely lady.”

  Eva forced away the word “beautiful” that Jack had said. But that was only a phrase. She’d often said, “Come on, baby,” to her cat named Scat. But Scat was still a cat.

  “Eva! That’s terrific.”

  “Woke you up quicker than caffeine, didn’t it?” Eva laughed.

  “I’ll say,” Rissa replied. “See how things can change? Lately, you’ve been concerned about being an old maid. Now, you’re telling me you’ve got two gorgeous guys at your beck and call.”

  “Rissa, stop that. Jack has never been at my beck and call. He wouldn’t help me start a band and he left. Stayed away four years, doing who knows what!” She took a deep breath, trying to stifle her resentment of having a keen idea of “what” he had been doing.

  “Well, I think Jack came to his senses and that’s why he came home. And you said you’re going to see Georgio this morning?”