by Karen Rock
“See you in the morning,” Nico said, giving her a quick hug before practically running out of the room.
Grace thought about that kiss as she brushed her teeth, washed her face and slipped the nightgown over her head. She thought about it as she lay in Nico’s beautiful guest room bed, his dog snoring softly next to her. Her foot ached and her arms were sore from using the crutches, so she was content to be snuggled under the covers and nestled into mounds of down pillows.
He’d kissed her as if he meant it.
She was going to have to be very careful. He might intend to stay here in town and he might be perfectly content with running the lodge’s restaurant, but would that last? She’d thought Josh was going to stay forever, too, and look what happened there. She’d been left alone, after being certain they had a future together.
No matter what Nico said, Grace didn’t think Chef Vitelli was the domestic, small-town guy he thought he was.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NICO WAS PREPARED this time. Yesterday he’d been caught by surprise when his nephew and sister arrived for the dog, but this morning he expected visitors.
And visitors came, shortly after he’d checked in with his staff, taken care of a few minor staffing issues due to something called the Jingle Bell Run, arranged for one of the wedding guests to deliver breakfast to another wedding guest, discussed a frozen-blueberry shortage with Michael and okayed next week’s meat order.
“Is she still here?” His middle sister, Cathy, followed her nephew into the living room. She wore jeans, a thick vest and hiking boots. Her long brown hair was wrapped into a braid that hung over one shoulder and her cheeks were pink from the cold. She was his most domestic sister; she baked bread, sewed quilts, knit and made sure that her younger brother’s house was clean. Her two little ones, both girls, had their mother’s cheery disposition and their father’s red hair.
“She is. And she’s in the shower, so don’t go barging into the bedroom wanting to meet her.” He handed Al’s leash to Brian. “Here you go, kid. He’s all yours until tonight. I might be working late.”
“That’s okay, Uncle Nico.” Al wagged his happiness and grinned at the boy. “He can sleep over if you want.”
“I won’t be that late,” he said.
“Do you have a date?” Cathy arched her eyebrow at him.
“No, I have a bridal shower. A last-minute thing that was supposed to have been a rehearsal dinner,” he explained. “Grace and I are putting together a wedding for tomorrow night.”
“‘Grace and I,’” she repeated, looking amused. “Interesting.”
“Yes,” he said. “It is. So get out of here. Where are my beautiful nieces?” As if he had to ask. No doubt she’d dropped them off at Grandma’s house so she could accompany Brian to fetch Al. He half expected Beth to show up any minute, though his very pregnant sister might be too far along to feel like leaving her cozy home in town. He guessed she’d be waiting for an update from Cath via text, though.
“With Mom. You’re making breakfast,” Cathy said, pushing past him to peer at the kitchen counter. “Your famous French toast. And berries. You have fresh raspberries, for heaven’s sake!” She turned an accusing eye on him. “You only make that for us on our birthdays.”
“Out.” Nico pointed toward the door from which Brian and Al had just exited. “Now. Before Grace sees you and is embarrassed all over again. She’s not too pleased about staying here, but her condo in town is on the second floor. And she’s on crutches.”
“That’s what Marie said, not that we believe that for a second. She could have stayed at the lodge.”
“All booked up,” he said, pointing once again to the door. “It’s our busy season.”
Cathy didn’t budge. None of the women in his family were easily bossed.
“Mom said you might be bringing her tomorrow.”
“I certainly plan to.” He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she came with him. She was alone, with no family, on Christmas. But she had him, and she had the Vitellis. If he wanted her to know him as someone other than Chef Hollywood, she would have to see where he came from.
“That’s serious.”
Nico didn’t reply. Instead, he took her elbow and guided her to the front door. “Think what you want, Cath. I have to get ready for work.”
“Good luck.” She gave him a quick hug before she left. “I hope she’s worthy of you.”
He couldn’t help laughing.
* * *
“I CAN’T BELIEVE tomorrow is Christmas Eve already.” Patsy handed Grace a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair across from the desk. “First things first, are we set for the Jingle Bell Run today?”
Grace looked at her list. “Yes. We donated three prizes—two spa packages and a Valentine’s Day weekend stay. Seven of the staff are participating and there will be some celebrating in the bar afterward, I suspect. The guests received invitations to join or watch.”
“I donated a couple of reindeer hats and one very ugly Mrs. Santa sweater. And I assume we’re ready for the wedding?”
Grace waved a hand toward the stacks of boxes. “We are ready. Nico loaned me one of his interns—”
“I heard she was thrilled to get out of deveining shrimp.”
“Yes. That’s what she told me. And she—Jilly—follows directions beautifully,” Grace said. “Noelle loved the little pinecone place-card holders, too.”
“You have the names of the guests? That was quick.”
“Our new bride gave me a list and the seating chart. That girl wasted no time getting this together, thank goodness. Ted’s been helping any way he can. They make a good couple.” She took a sip of coffee. “Thanks for this.”
“The chef’s special blend.” Patsy grinned. “He seems quite smitten.”
“That’s an old-fashioned word.”
“I’m an old-fashioned woman.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. Today Patsy wore a black pantsuit, white blouse and a cluster of vintage Christmas pins on her left lapel. “He’s crushing on you. Is that better?”
Grace had to laugh. “Ridiculous.”
“Not so ridiculous,” her friend pointed out. “You two have a lot in common. You both work in the hospitality business, you both like working with people and you’re both good at what you do. You live in the same town, you’re old enough to know what you want. The people you work with respect you both. Plus, he’s very good looking and he comes from a nice family.”
Grace thought about what Nico had told her last night. “He’s very close to them.”
“Another plus.”
“You sound like a matchmaking service.”
Patsy shrugged. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Just don’t tell me you’re still in love with what’s-his-name. And don’t tell me your heart is still broken over that guy, because you’re smarter than that.”
“I’m not heartbroken,” Grace declared. “But I am a little more wary that I used to be. You can’t blame me for that.”
“Blame you for what?” Nico, wearing his official chef’s jacket and unofficial blue jeans, stepped into the office. He held a legal pad in his hand and smiled at both of them. “Should I come back later? I just wanted to go over the menu for tomorrow night.”
“Stay,” Patsy said, giving Grace a quick wink as she rose from her chair. “I have accounts to deal with. You’re staying for the shower?”
“Absolutely. Jilly has gone into town to get a gift certificate from the Adirondack Store for me. That’ll be my gift.” She eyed her foot. Still trapped in the boot, it peeked out from the hem of her swirly gold-and-green skirt. She’d chosen a deep emerald V-neck sweater and gold snowflake earrings to continue her holiday-themed week. “I’m glad my Christmas shopping is all done because
I’m not in any shape to hit the stores now.”
“Thank God for that,” Nico said, moving aside for Patsy. “I’m a terrible shopper and I’d have to go with you to make sure you didn’t trip on any of the Christmas decorations. How long do we have to stay?”
“We?”
“I go where you go, babe. Unless you want to try to drive with that boot on your foot.”
She didn’t.
“For an hour or so into the party,” Grace said. “I need to make sure everything is set up the way her friends want it. There will be enough staff members there to take over for us after that. Do you need to stay late in the kitchen?”
He shook his head and plopped down in the chair across from her. “Michael can handle the dinner service. We expect it to be fairly light, so we can head home whenever you like.” He looked down at his notes. “So, let’s talk about our wedding, shall we?”
* * *
EVERY TIME HE saw Grace she was in motion. She’d organized the table arrangements, created a gift table and used some of those little lighted jars to decorate the buffet, all while propped up on crutches. Nico had kept the food simple, turning the formal rehearsal-dinner food for the Barrett guests into hearty appetizers. Maria had baked chocolate cupcakes and the interns had practiced their cake-decorating skills by frosting them. He’d had to demonstrate proper pastry bag technique, which meant the opportunity to show off a bit.
Just like on television.
It had all been worth it. The bride and groom had been completely surprised, having been tricked into thinking they were meeting friends for dinner. The mood in Wildwood was festive, with the groom’s favorite blues track playing from the speakers and the bride’s friends laughing and talking nonstop.
The interns, basking in the glow of compliments from their boss, continued to put out appetizers. He waved to Patsy, who gave him a thumbs-up and then made her way through the crowd to greet him.
“Nice job, Chef.”
“Thank you.” They both looked at the happy couple. Grace was explaining something to them, waving one hand toward the gift table as she spoke. One of the EMTs who had taken her to the clinic approached, put his arm around Grace’s waist and then whispered in her ear.
“What the—”
“He’s no competition,” Patsy said. “At least, I don’t think so. He’s been asking her out for a year and she hasn’t said yes yet.”
“There’s always a first time,” he grumbled. “The guy looks like Paul Bunyan. He could carry her off to the top of the mountain and we’d never see her again.” Seriously, the guy had legs like tree trunks and a chest the size of Montana.
“But she’s been spending all of her time with you,” Patsy pointed out. “And in your house, no less. I hope your intentions are honorable.”
“I’m taking her to meet my parents tomorrow. Does that count?”
“She said yes to that? Good.”
“She did.” He couldn’t help sounding proud. “I told her she was doing me a favor.”
“If you hurt her I will take all of your fancy, expensive knives down to the beach and use them to cut firewood.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nico said. “Duly noted.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he locked them up at night.
* * *
HE MISSED HIS chance to help Grace to bed. He had to deal with seventeen text messages and nine voice mails. The texts, from his sisters and his nephew, involved food, dog care and requests for wine recommendations. The voice mails were from his father, his mother, three friends vacationing in Mexico and his agent in LA.
His cell phone rang again once he arrived back home with Grace in tow. She’d insisted on using the ramp and managed just fine by holding on to the railing. It was clear she was feeling better, which meant he’d soon have to let her go.
But maybe not for long. She’d kissed him last night as if she’d meant it.
He had hope.
A lot of hope.
She blew him a kiss before she limped down the hall, Al following devotedly behind her, just as Nico wished he could.
CHAPTER NINE
“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE. Nice dress.” He held out a cup of coffee as she hobbled into the kitchen.
“I try to match the wedding colors. Merry Christmas Eve to you, too.” She sat down and leaned her crutch against her chair before taking the cup. “Thank you.”
It was early, not quite eight o’clock, but Grace had set the alarm on her phone. She knew that the earlier she was at work today the better. She’d showered and dressed in a burgundy lace dress that she could wear all day. The shoes were an issue. She needed flats—well, a left one—for her one uninjured foot. The garnet Manolos she’d planned on wearing were not going to work.
“Wedding day,” he said, taking a big gulp of coffee. “Got to get the caffeine working.” He was dressed casually, in a black sweater and jeans. His hair curled, damp from the shower, and he looked sleepy. “I’m looking forward to it, but I am not a morning person.”
“What should I bring to your parents’ house? I can’t arrive empty-handed.” She’d thought about that the moment she woke up: hostess gift!
“Not food,” he said, looking at his watch. “I can make breakfast here or at work. It’s up to you. Maria’s doing muffins today, for the Christmas buffet tomorrow.”
“Muffins. Well, half a muffin,” she amended, thinking about the feast that awaited later at the Vitellisʼ house. “Nico, give me an idea for today. I woke up at five o’clock worrying about it.”
“Women are strange creatures.”
“Yes, we are. Strange creatures with manners.”
“Get a bottle of scotch. My father loves single malts.”
“Single malt,” she repeated seriously. “Got it. And your mother?”
“Candle freak.”
“Seriously?”
“Like I could make that up?”
“Any special scent?”
“For what?”
“The candles.”
He frowned, stared absently into the distance. “Not that I know of.” He reached for his cell phone and punched out a text. “Cath will know.”
Sure enough, two minutes later he got an answer. Nico showed Grace the screen: Any. Bigger better.
So Grace would buy single-malt scotch and a humongous candle before one oʼclock, along with preparing the rooms for the wedding and getting the staff set up with their assigned chores.
Piece of cake, even on one foot.
“Drink up,” she said. “We have to get going. Do you mind stopping at my place to pick up some shoes? And drop off my things?” She thought about that for a second. Nico rummaging through her closet. It was clean and organized to the max, which would amuse him no end.
“No problem.” He fiddled with his phone. “There’s a storm coming. We’re going to get some snow.”
“A lot of snow?” She’d have to factor in more time for guests to arrive if that was the case. Snow slowed things down, wreaked havoc on tight schedules.
“‘A significant amount,’ according to Accuweather.”
She’d need to wear boots. Grace hobbled back to her room, grabbed her bag, iPad and phone, put her suede boot on her left foot and wrapped the soft azure scarf from her Secret Santa around her neck. She’d packed everything, but Nico would have to put her clothes and suitcase into the car. She looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. She wondered if Al would miss her.
She wondered if Nico would.
“I’ll take those now,” Nico said, stepping into the room. “Unless I can talk you into staying longer.”
“I have tomorrow and the next day off,” she said. “I’ll stay home and rest. And then I think I’ll be as good as new.”
�
��All right. But Al is going to be devastated when he has to sleep on the floor tonight.”
He took her things and left, the dog following him down the hall and outside. They returned quickly, Al shaking a dusting of snow off his fur and moving immediately to his bed by the fireplace.
“He’ll sleep until Brian comes to take him to my parents’,” Nico said, chuckling. He helped Grace with her coat. “He knows it’s going to snow and he really hates this kind of weather. Why are you smiling?”
“I love weddings. I love big days like this when all of the planning and work pays off and everything is beautiful. And then something goes wrong but it doesn’t matter because I can fix it.” She grinned at him. “I live to organize.”
“Wow.” He took a step back. “The adrenaline’s pumping already?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “You love parties. Everyone knows that. You sing while you cook.”
Nico launched into a rendition of “Winter Wonderland” and ushered Grace out the door and into the cold.
* * *
SHE WAS ARMED with gifts. She’d called the gift-delivery company she worked with and had them send over a bottle of Highland Park scotch, a selection of fat candles from the Adirondack Company and a huge box of fudge for the children. She’d gathered gift certificates and lotions from the lodge’s spa for Nico’s sisters, then added an extra one for his mother. The brothers-in-law were a mystery until Lyndsie, her gift coordinator, suggested gift certificates to the new microbrewery.
It was all just too easy.
“We’re set?” Nico poked his head into her office. “You can still get away?”
“I can,” she pronounced, grabbing her crutch. “I have so many people who want to help that everything was set up by ten. The florist came early because of the storm. Noelle will check into her suite at three o’clock. She’ll get dressed in the room and then she and Ted will stay there tonight. I need to be back here by five or five thirty. It’s a small wedding, but everything needs to be perfect. How’s the food coming along?”
