by Mary Ellis
Her words seemed to hang in the air for a few moments. Then he spoke. ‘I appreciate your honesty, Jill, but there’s a third reason I’m here. We’re having a little family get-together before we open to the public – my dad, mom, Bernadette, Danielle, Nonni. Could you tolerate a little more Manfredi cooking so everyone can say goodbye?’
Jill grinned. ‘Of course I can. I have a few questions to ask your grandmother, like how Sofia found out the security code and where the gun was hidden.’
‘We’ll ask Nonni together, far away from my parents. We don’t want any bloodshed on your last night in town.’
Together Jill and Eric joined the little party happening in all three dining rooms, plus spilling into the courtyard. Jill talked and laughed and ate way too much food. As Jill had expected, Nonni had told Francesca everything, including that Alfonzo bought a gun for protection, where he kept it, and what their security code was. After all, what if Francesca had to rescue her when everyone else was out of town? Unfortunately, Nonni had dropped these tidbits while dining in the Borelli home – a place where Sofia was always lurking.
Jill accepted fond farewells, hugs, and kisses from everyone, including Irena Manfredi. She promised Dani she would be back for a visit – a promise she doubted she could keep. Nonni packed up a bag of food to take, while Alfonzo slipped her extra traveling cash. She would miss all of them.
Then Jill waited until Eric went down to the wine cellar to run up for her bags and leave through the kitchen. It was the coward’s way out, but for the best. Because if she looked at his handsome face again she might change her mind. And there would be no happy ending for Jill Wyatt. Not until the real Kate Weller faced her past once and for all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The first time I read Margaret Mitchell’s southern classic, Gone with the Wind, I loved the part when Rhett said to Scarlett, ‘I’m going to Charleston to see … if there isn’t something left in life of charm and grace’ and off he went. Right then I knew I wanted some of that for myself. I have returned to that gracious city many times for research and pleasure. Since dinner is taken seriously in Charleston’s historic section, what better place to set a mystery involving two rival Italian restaurants? People who know me know I am no gourmet, so I’m grateful to every chef I’ve peppered with questions for the past two years. I especially want to thank Pat Marconi, who makes fabulous gravy, and wouldn’t be caught dead using pasta sauce from a jar, and a big thank you to her sister, Joanne Thomas for letting me use her Charleston condo. Because a writer is nothing without brainstorming buddies, I’m grateful to Peggy Svoboda and author, Casey Daniels. And finally, I’d like to thank my agent, Nicole Resciniti, and my husband, Ken, who’s always ready to pack a bag and head south in the name of research.
