A Little Slice of Heaven

by Gina Ardito

  “But,” she argued. “You’re the same age.”

  “And your mother’s always trying to get me to slow down, too. You know that.”

  “But you never do.”

  Dad beamed brighter than the morning sunshine streaming through the storefront window. “I’ve been fortunate. I love the restaurant business. I can’t turn my back on Villa Mare. You have that same passion for teaching. Even after all you suffered with Frank and Rachel, could you turn your back on the little ones?” Giving her hand a quick, comforting squeeze, he answered for her. “No, you couldn’t. And that’s why your mother and I plan to refinance our mortgage to get you the money for your daycare center.”

  Okay, where’s Rod Serling? The theme from ‘The Twilight Zone’ echoed in her head. First Claudio’s retirement, now this.

  She couldn’t allow her parents to mortgage their future for hers. Of all days to be placed in such a tenuous position, why today? Why did fate heap new portions on her overburdened plate? Especially when each one was less appetizing than the previous one.

  “No, Dad. I can’t ask you to do that. You shouldn’t have to take out a loan to finance my life. Besides, I’ve been thinking. I’m going to take a second job. I’ll have to put off the center for another couple of years but—”

  The squeeze transformed into a series of pats on her wrist. “I’ve made up my mind, Gianna. Your mother and I talked about this at great length. You believe in this cause, and we believe in you. What better way to show how much we love you than to give you the opportunity to follow your dream?”

  Slack-jawed, she pondered her next move. No point in continuing to argue. Only one person could talk Carlo Randazzo out of doing something—Lucia Randazzo. She’d have to speak to her mother. “Where is Mom anyway?”

  His silver head jerked toward the storage room. “In the back with Kyle. She’s teaching him how to tally the receipts.” Leaning closer, he winked and whispered, “If you tell her I said so, she’ll deny it. But I think your mother has a crush on Kyle.”

  Yeah, well, there’s a lot of that going around. “Do you think she’d mind if I borrowed him for a while?”

  Rising, Dad picked up the empty cup and saucer. “Only for a very short while. I’d bet my socks your mother’s got a dozen tasks her Kyle has to do before the lunch crowd arrives.”

  “‘Her Kyle?’”

  “Yup,” he replied, tossing a sly grin over his shoulder. “I told you she’s sweet on him.”

  Almost as if summoned by their conversation, Gianna’s mother stepped out of the back room with Kyle behind her. The minute Gianna saw him, her heart ascended into her throat, and the espresso re-percolated in her stomach.

  “Who’s sweet on whom, Carlo?” her mother asked.

  “You on Tony Bennett, cara,” Dad replied smoothly.

  “Mmmm. He can leave his slippers under my bed anytime.”

  Gianna lowered her head to the table, partly to hide her amusement at her parents’ nonsense, but also to shield her telltale face from Kyle’s scrutiny.

  “Good morning, Gianna.” Her mother leaned to kiss the top of her head. “What brings you here so early?”

  Her gaze drilled into the orange Formica. “Kyle, actually.”

  “Oh?” The rise in his tone reflected open curiosity.

  Gianna took the time to count to ten and recoup reserves. If she didn’t do this now, she’d never find the nerve again. Feigning a casual attitude far from the anxiety skittering like marbles in her veins, she turned her focus to him. “Yes. If you have a few minutes, maybe we could take a walk?”

  Kyle’s face registered nothing. “Actually, I should stay here. Lucia, didn’t you want me to run those receipts one more time?”

  Her mother giggled. In twenty-nine years, Gianna had never heard her mother giggle before. Dad was right; Mom had a crush. Big time. “The receipts can wait, tesoro. Go with Gianna.”

  Tesoro? Even her brother, Joey, only heard that term of endearment once a year. On his birthday.

  Still wearing a blank expression, Kyle reshifted his attention to Gianna. “Sure. Why not?”

  Why not? She could think of a thousand reasons why not, chief among them the fact she was about to make a first-class fool out of herself. But she bit her tongue. “Great! Let’s go.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Contrary to his cool pretense, Kyle knew exactly why Gianna wanted him to “take a walk” with her. When she crossed the parking lot and headed for a side street running perpendicular to the strip mall, his brain cells squirmed.

  Dammit, why now? He only had thirteen days left. Thirteen days and this farce would be over. Thirteen days and he’d go home. Thirteen days and he’d get his life back, keeping Aurora in the process. Thirteen days and he’d be free. Thirteen days and he’d leave this place, forgetting everyone and everything he’d come in contact with over the last two months.

  As if debating his silent argument, the autumn wind rustled. A flurry of leaves whirled on a familiar powdery scent. No, the wind reminded him, that last statement wasn’t entirely true. He’d never forget Gianna. How could he? The scent of her skin, the sound of her voice, the innocence sparkling in her eyes. Her gentle, unobtrusive manner, her generous spirit…

  “Have you seen the beach here yet?” she asked, staring at him over her shoulder.

  He shook his head, and she smiled. A chilly fog of guilt crept into his bones. If only the expression of joy on her face could last. She deserved nothing less than to be happy for the rest of her life. Without Gianna finding him, he never would have survived the last month. And yet, without Gianna, he wouldn’t have to face this excruciating moment.

  “Setquott Beach is one of the only beaches on Long Island where the sun actually sets in the water,” she said. “Legend says Native American tribes celebrated marriages at dusk on this shore. The union of earth, sky, and water in one fine line represented the joining of families. The shifting tides indicated the give and take needed by the wedding couple, and the sinking sun symbolized the ending of unmarried lives and the beginning of their future together as one.”

  Well, she’d left no doubt where this conversation was headed. But he said nothing as they walked on, content to let silence reign as long as possible. When they finally reached the shoreline, he had to admit the view was as breathtaking as at some of the finest beaches in Europe. At mid-morning height, the sun glinted off blue-gray water in shimmering diamonds. Rocks, vivid hues of red, gray, pink, and every shade of cream imaginable, crunched under his shoes like a noisy bowl of breakfast cereal.

  An echoic honk sounded as a V of Canada geese, wings spread across the white-streaked sky, flew overhead. Salt air, always discernible in the town itself, now infused every breath he took, stinging his nostrils with a sharp tang, leaving an indelible flavor on his tongue.

  “Isn’t the view magnificent?” She linked an arm through his. “I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl, and the beauty never ceases to call to me. I think the Native Americans were right. This is the perfect place for two people to begin a relationship. Don’t you think so?”

  To slice through the thick tension building in his gut, he forced a cheery voice. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Better, thanks to several aspirins and Dad’s espresso,” she replied. This time her gaze remained fixed straight ahead. “I guess I had a little too much to drink last night.”

  “It happens.”

  “Not to me.” She picked up a handful of stones, and plucked a smooth pink one from the pile to skip across the water. “I’ve never done that before. I guess having to face Frank and Rachel…” She stopped, staring at him with wide, shining eyes.

  Trusting eyes.

  “Did I tell you how grateful I was for your company last night?”

  Had she intentionally chosen the heart-shaped stone to toss into the sea? Pins and needles prickled his flesh. “About a thousand times.”

  A charming rush of color bloomed in her c
heeks, raising a moral dilemma in his conscience. She wanted something permanent. And he couldn’t give her that. In the end, he’d be forced to leave her behind. His world was miles from hers. He was a bird, she was a fish. Neither could survive in the other’s environment.

  “Kyle, I know you think I was too drunk last night to know what I wanted, but the truth is I like you very much.”

  “Gianna, I—”

  She quickly pushed a fingertip against his lips.

  The contact sent a flame straight to his mouth, making him burn to kiss her once again.

  “No, let me finish. I have to get this out while I still have the nerve. Last night, when I said I wasn’t ready to say goodnight, I meant what I said. I didn’t ask to come home with you because I drank too much champagne or because I was high on some power trip. Last night I realized how much you mean to me. I think...I think I may be falling for you.” Her hands settled on his shoulders, and she tilted her head, poised for a kiss. “And I was sort of hoping you felt the same way about me.”

  The pins and needles embedded in his lungs, making breathing nigh on impossible. With reluctance, he removed her hands and stepped back. “No, Gianna. I mean, I do like you. But I can’t do this.”

  “Why not?” Her face blanched, the roses disappearing beneath her skin, leaving chalk circles. “Oh, God, there’s someone else.”

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  How to put this delicately and yet leave no room for argument? Yeah, right. Might as well ask how does one kick a puppy and make him appreciate the punishment? He’d have to settle for the truth or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Not a lie, per se, just not the entire truth. “I can’t promise you a future.”

  To his amazement, she laughed. “Is that all? Oh, Kyle, I don’t care about your finances. My parents had nothing when they fell in love. They married, and then struggled together to open Villa Mare. They lived in the same apartment you’re living in now. They didn’t see a profit for two years.”

  She plucked another stone from her fist to send dancing across the water, this one snow white—like her soul.

  “But if you asked them, they’d say their hard work and sacrifice was worth the hardship. There’s no reason we can’t do the same. Mom’s always trying to talk Dad into retiring. They obviously trust you, and I know running a pizzeria might not be what you planned for your life, but it’s an honest living and—”

  Stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, he stared at the high cliffs where a few sprawling homes with walls of windows facing the Sound lay scattered in the scrub pines. Among them, he found the pretty Spanish-style hacienda Hayley’s agency had on the market. Nice views, solid-looking house. Might make a good investment. Vacation home or rental.

  “Kyle?”

  His mind turned from real estate business to the business at hand. He frowned. “I think you’re oversimplifying things.”

  “No, I’m not.” Another stone plopped into the water. “Sometimes, the future is what you make. Last night you accused me of not accepting help because of stubborn pride. Don’t let your stubborn pride override the future for us.”

  Dammit, how could he make her stop? “There is no future for us,” he insisted at last. “I’m sorry if you believed differently, Gianna, but I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  The remaining stones fell to the beach with a scatter of clacks. “Oh.” The acknowledgement, so simple and yet so profound, had the effect of dynamite bringing down a ten-story high rise. Gianna’s shoulders sank, and the hopeful expression she’d worn moments before transformed to one of shame. Her gaze dropped to the multi-colored stones as if weighted down by them.

  Despite the sharp edges of the rocks cutting into his pants, he knelt to look up at her.“Gianna, please, try to understand. In another place and time, I’d be thrilled you find me even remotely worthy of your affection. But I’m not—”

  Her hand rose in front of his face like a policeman stopping traffic. “Don’t.” The word came out strangled. “Don’t you dare say you’re not good enough for me. I’ve heard the line before. I’m sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position, but I think I’d better go now. I’ll see you around, okay?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she took off, practically running across the beach. Although his first instinct was to race after her, he hesitated. What would be the point? He’d always known their relationship would end this way. If he caught up to her, what would he say?

  No matter how much he cared, he couldn’t change their differences. Better to hurt her feelings now, when their relationship was still platonic, than to become romantically involved and have her wind up hating him. For both their sakes.

  He should have backed out of the whole wedding charade. At the very least, he should have made her understand his pretense last night was simply that. He scooped a handful of the pretty stones and, rising again, flung them into the Long Island Sound.

  ****

  Bathed in humiliation’s mist, Gianna stumbled to Villa Mare. She couldn’t go into the restaurant, couldn’t face small talk with her parents. And spilling her guts to Hayley was completely out of the question. Given a choice, she’d climb into her car, drive home, crawl into bed, and forget she ever woke up this morning.

  Darn it, her car! With everything that had gone wrong in the last half-hour, she’d forgotten to ask Kyle for her keys. Which meant she’d have to face him and his pity again. The mist transformed into a deluge, drenching her in cold sweat.

  Good God, what else could go wrong?

  “Excuse me,” a deep, cultured voice said from behind her.

  She whirled and came face to face with a distinguished, black-haired gentleman in a camel-colored cashmere topcoat. “Yes?”

  “I’m looking for Kyle Hayden. Do you know where he might be?” He jerked his head toward Villa Mare’s window. “The couple inside said he’d gone for a walk. Have you seen him?”

  Unfortunately, yes. “He should be back any moment,” she managed to croak. And somehow, she thought as she strode past the man, I’ll have to find a way to regain my dignity before I get my car keys from him.

  She’d only taken two steps when he gripped her arm, stopping her. “Are you all right, my dear? You seem upset.”

  The unfortunate part of living in a small town, everyone knew everyone else’s business. “I’m fine.” She might have attempted a smile, but her muscles refused to cooperate. “I’ve just had a bit of bad news today.” I fell in love with the wrong man. Again.

  “Ah, I’m dreadfully sorry about that.”

  Not as sorry as I am. She stared, trying to discern something familiar in his patrician features. Nothing came to mind. “Forgive me, but have we met before?”

  “No, but if I had to guess, I’d say you were Gianna Randazzo.”

  “H-how do you know that?”

  His expression turned smug, and he rocked on his heels. “Well, now, from the moment I first saw your name, I had a picture in my head of what you’d look like. You’re a little taller than I anticipated, but in every other way, you’re a dead ringer for my mental image. I’m Rory Abernathy.”

  He held out a hand and she shook it, automatically replying, “Gianna Randazzo.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said with a smile. “I believe we already established that.”

  Okay, so maybe the recriminations buzzing in her head affected her ability to carry on an intelligent conversation. But her curiosity remained firm. “May I ask where you saw my name?”

  “On the copy of the paycheck Kyle sent me.”

  Kyle? Her gaze automatically strayed toward the road leading to the beach.

  Before she could form another question, Kyle stepped around the corner. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth dropped. “Rory? What the hell are you doing here?”

  Mr. Abernathy turned. “I see you still have those gracious manners, Kyle. I would have expected you to learn a little humility from this experience.”

  “Yeah,
well, come back in two weeks.” A dark glower lent his features a grizzly bear look. “Perhaps, by then I won’t be such a disappointment to you.”

  “You don’t have two weeks. That’s why I’m here.”

  A frigid breeze fluttered across Gianna’s shoulder blades. She should leave. Whatever was about to occur, the prickly hairs on her neck warned her she should walk away. But her feet refused to cooperate, and her ears burned to learn the identity of this Rory character and his reason for being here.

  “What do you mean I don’t have two weeks?” Kyle demanded. “Today is Day Forty-seven. I know. I’ve been counting since this whole damned thing started. I have thirteen days left.”

  Cold, calculating and humorless, his smile did nothing to warm Gianna.

  “Or are you and David ready to admit defeat?”

  “David and I aren’t admitting anything. But your sister’s little stunt left us with no alternative. So we told her about the wager and—”

  “Wager?” The conversation whirled in dizzying speeds, and Gianna could no longer keep up without an explanation—or Cliff’s Notes. “What wager?”

  Rory’s interested expression flew from her to Kyle and back again. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  To ward off the chills, she folded her arms over her chest. “Know what?”

  With a look of pity, Rory stroked his chin. “I’ll be damned.”

  The tiger’s eye ring on one finger glinted in the sunlight, nearly blinding her, and she framed her face with the back of her hand. “What don’t I know?”

  “I have to give you credit, Kyle. I told David we shouldn’t have paid the penalty because I thought you were pulling the wool over our eyes. Turns out, you were pulling the wool over hers.”

  She cast a glance at Kyle, but he dropped his gaze to the sidewalk. As if she rode a high-speed roller coaster, her belly flipped and twisted. “Kyle? What’s he talking about?”

  “She really doesn’t know, does she?”

  “I believe we already established that,” she snapped.