“Oh, yes. You’re staying at the hotel, aren’t you? I’m sorry about your place. Derek told me.”
“Thanks. Nice to meet you.” Nikki said good-bye and left the office, swallowing back the lump that had nearly seized her throat. After she’d calmed down, checked her messages, replied to a few e-mails, typed a memo, and gone over a wine order being sent out the following week to a big-time movie star, she locked up her office and headed back to her car. Passing Derek’s office, she could hear Renee and Derek still talking. She couldn’t help herself from listening at the door.
“What do you say? You want to go and grab some dinner with me?” Derek asked.
“I’d love to,” Renee replied.
Why had Nikki stopped to listen? She closed her eyes and sighed, then walked outside into the early evening. She hadn’t realized that she’d been there for over an hour. What could those two have been talking about for that long? Oh, who cared?
She took her cell phone from her purse and called Andrés. He wasn’t home. She left a message for him asking if he wanted to meet her for happy hour at the hotel wine bar. The idea of being with him in Spain was suddenly sounding more and more appealing, but right now the idea of just being with him appealed to her and she hoped he’d get her message. But what if he didn’t come? Could she blame him? No, not really. She’d been such a dumb ass. That was the only way to put it. Here the man couldn’t get enough of her, gave her space to sort through whatever she needed to sort through, was always there when she needed him, and in return, what did she do? Yanked his chain, that’s what she’d done. She was almost as disturbed as Lauren Trump. Maybe not that bad, but Andrés didn’t deserve a game player. Dammit. No he did not, but . . . But, oh, it was confusing. She loved being with him, cared about him, he made her laugh, and damn he had one fine bod and a pair of amazing, mesmerizing eyes, so why, oh why, in the hell could she not make that commitment?
Chapter 19
Nikki sat down at the wine bar, Marco was behind it. “Ah, Bellisima, Simon and I are pleased you are fine. When I saw what happened to the cottage I was frightened for you.”
“It’s okay. I’m obviously fine.”
He frowned. “You do not seem fine. Come and stay with me and Simon.”
“No, really I’ll be okay. The hotel is amazing and everything is here, and please do not worry.”
“Do not worry? Impossibile. Vino?”
“Yes. Grazie.”
“Vivanda?” he asked.
Nikki knew he was asking her if she wanted food.
“I made margherita pizzas with pine nut, smoked mozzarella cheese, and basil. I also have spinach salad with maple bacon and caramelized walnuts. It’s my own version.”
“Look at you becoming quite the chef. Maybe you should take over at Georges’. I don’t know what’s going to happen or who will replace him.”
“Oh, no, no. I could never be like a Georges Debussey. He was a great cuoco, chef as you say here. I am certain that the other uomo he worked with, the Irish man, he will do the job. No?”
“I don’t know about that. He mentioned something about going back to Ireland,” Nikki replied. Or, maybe to the slammer.
“I do not know either.” Marco shrugged. “A Syrah? Or a Viognier if you want bianco tonight,” he said, referring to a white wine. “Wait, wait, uno momento.” He snapped his fingers. “I have a beautiful Albariño wine tonight with the appetizers. It’s from Spain you know.” He raised his eyebrows at her.
She was too tired to fall into that trap. As much as she wanted Marco to be a sounding board to her love life, at that moment she simply wanted to enjoy a glass of wine and some good food and keep her fingers crossed a handsome Spaniard would join her. “Sounds nice. Where is Simon?”
“Getting beautiful, like the Spanish wine is. Bellisima, like you.”
No dice. She wasn’t taking the bait. She smiled and continued to act stupid. Marco got the hint.
“He will be here pronto.” Marco looked at his watch. “He better be.” He winked at Nikki and went to get her wine.
She twisted around on her chair and spotted Janie and her husband walking in. Janie approached her. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been thinking about you, and I was telling Trevor how worried I was, and how great you were to me and how I confided everything to you.”
“She did,” Trevor said. “Thank you again for helping my wife.”
“Sit down,” Nikki said. “No need to thank me. Janie saved my life.”
Janie blushed. The young couple sat down on the stools next to her. Marco brought her wine over and took their orders, too.
“Do you know if they saved anything from your house?” Trevor asked.
“I’m not really sure, actually. From the looks of it, I don’t think so. The fire got hot really fast and spread quickly. I forgot to ask the fire marshall, and I’m almost afraid to ask Detective Robinson.” Nikki tasted her Albariño.
“That’s tough. Janie told me that the detective is a real jerk. She said that they also told you that it was arson?” He raised his brows.
Nikki nodded. “That much they told me. Why? I don’t know.”
He shook his head. “Man. A fire.” His eyes went distant for a second and Nikki could have sworn they were glassing over with tears. He shook his head again and looked away. “Sorry. Fire is horrid. I lost my folks in a house fire.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. That’s really awful.”
He nodded.
“Thank goodness for his grandma. My baby wouldn’t be here without her,” Janie said.
“Did she save you?” Nikki asked.
“Sort of, I suppose,” Trevor replied. “The night the fire happened, I was spending the night at my grandmother’s house.”
Nikki didn’t know what to say. Poor man. “Is your grandma still alive?”
“No. She passed away about a year ago. She was living in an assisted living home at the time. She’d grown pretty senile and had diabetes.”
“But Trevor went to see her every week before she died,” Janie chimed in. “When we first met, he’d come by the restaurant and get takeout for the two of them and then go and see her. I regret never getting to meet her.”
Trevor took her hand. “She would’ve loved you, baby.”
Janie smiled at him.
Sweet.
Marco set their wine down along with two platters of pizza and salad for all three of them.
“Andrés may be joining us, too. I’m not sure yet,” Nikki told him.
Marco wiggled his eyebrows at her, in a Groucho Marx sort of way.
Nikki waved him away and turned back to Janie and Trevor. “Janie, you said that you told Trevor about confiding in me?”
“I did. I told him last night when he got here about Georges being my dad, and that I’d told you because I needed to talk to someone and you were there for me.”
Trevor set his slice of pizza back on his plate. “Crazy, isn’t it? Who would have known? I don’t know why he couldn’t have told her earlier.”
“I told you, baby. He said that he wanted to honor my mother’s wishes. See how I fared after she died, to see if I could handle any more of a shake-up. He did the right thing, but now, well now . . . I can’t ever know him as my dad.”
Trevor put his arm around Janie and hugged her. She kissed his cheek.
Ah, young love.
“I know that Georges just revealed all of this to you before his murder, but Janie, did he, also, maybe indicate anything about a will?”
Janie looked truly horrified as her eyes widened. She shook her head, and replied, “No. Not to me. Of course not. Why would he need to do that?”
“Seeing that you’re his daughter and he knew this for some time, my guess is that you would be included in the will, and his publisher is trying to track down the heir in order to make certain that person receives the royalties from his cookbooks.”
“Oh. No. But, until they find the killer, I don’t want anyone to
know, and you promised.”
“Janie, I think you have to say something and it will likely come out in his will anyway, which I’m certain will be revealed in a matter of days.”
“Then that detective will come after me. I mean, it totally looks like I have a motive. Doesn’t it?”
“Baby, Ms. Sands is right. You have to tell the police. You didn’t kill him and the truth will come out. I’m in law school. They can’t arrest you without evidence. The worst they can do is detain you for questioning, and then they have to release you. And that won’t happen.”
Janie took a sip from her wine and looked up at Trevor with complete trust. Her eyes brimming with tears, she nodded. “Okay, tomorrow we’ll go and tell the police.”
Nikki thought a second about Detective Robinson and how if he hadn’t already uncovered the fact about Janie being connected to Georges, which he obviously hadn’t because he’d have been on her faster than a rabid dog, he’d figure it out soon. Nikki thought it a good idea, though, to buy a day or two’s time. “Why don’t you wait for another day, okay?”
“Why?” Trevor asked. “Like I said, they won’t be able to arrest her.”
Nikki set her wine down. If the police honed in on Janie because she reported to them about her parentage, then whoever the real killer was—if it wasn’t Janie, which Nikki believed—would simply have more time to cover his or her tracks.
“I think that it’s a good idea for Janie to give it a day to get her emotions in check, and maybe she should wait until the will is read, because if she’s not an inheritor the police won’t be able to tie Georges and her together, unless one of us says something.”
“I’m sure she’s the heir,” Trevor replied.
“Maybe, maybe not. Say Georges didn’t have a chance to change his will, or was only recently convinced that Janie was his daughter. You have to consider that there is the possibility that she was not included. You do realize that there was no DNA testing?” Nikki asked Trevor. “So there is no real proof.”
“I’m his daughter. I know it, especially after he said so. I know it.” Janie wiped her face with the back of her hand. She reminded Nikki so much of a little girl at times, and then other times when she’d been around Georges getting her work done for him she came across as a confident young woman. Maybe that was because Georges boosted her self esteem—something a dad would do, even if he hadn’t let the cat out of the bag until recently—sort of like loving his child at arm’s length.
Nikki reached for Janie’s hand, her stomach sinking. The poor girl didn’t have a mom to advise her in these situations, and she glanced at Trevor, who also didn’t have parents. However, he appeared to be an intelligent young man—maybe a bit of an idealist, but smart—and he had his wife’s best interest at heart. That much was obvious. “I know, Janie. There is still a way to get proof though.”
“There is?”
“Yes. Your dad’s body will be at the coroner’s office for at least a week, I would imagine.” Nikki knew from Aunt Cara that it could take a week or two before autopsy reports were complete and the remains released. “Why don’t you call an attorney tomorrow and see if you can’t have an order drawn up for a DNA sample? Trevor, you probably know someone who can help. Don’t you? Janie said that you were clerking for a law firm.”
“I was, but with my finals I had to quit, and now I’m doing up résumés and am on the hunt. I flew down to L.A. a couple of weeks ago and interviewed with a firm there. Maybe I can call them.”
“I’m sure. What kind of law do they specialize in?”
“They actually deal in wills and trusts.”
“Oh. That’s a good coincidence. Call them tomorrow and see what Janie can do, if anything, about having a DNA test.”
“I’ll do that. It’s going to be all right, honey.” He put his arm around Janie. “Thanks, Ms. Sands.”
“Call me Nikki, please. Ms. Sands makes me feel old.” Nikki looked up at the clock on the wall. She’d been there an hour now and no Andrés. Maybe he was angry at her. She couldn’t exactly blame him. She excused herself and told them both to try and relax, enjoy the hotel and spa.
She got up and started for the kitchen. She wanted to see if Simon had shown up yet. An idea had come to her, and it would have to involve Simon.
Marco was putting another pizza in the oven and swaying to the samba music playing over the speakers. “Marco.”
He turned from the open wood oven and, after placing the pizza paddle down, he came over to her, grabbed her by the waist with one arm, and placed his right hand on her left, bringing them both up. “Let’s dance, Bellisima.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. He twirled around the tight quarters, all the while lifting her spirits.
“Excuse me.” Simon walked in and tapped Nikki on the shoulder. “Are you cheating on me?”
“No, I’m not, but he is.” She pointed at Marco. They all cracked up. It felt really good to release the tension that had been building over the last few days.
“You finally show up,” Marco said.
Simon did a twirl. “I know I’m late, but don’t I look hot.” He licked his finger and placed it on his hip, making a sizzling sound—so eighties, and so Simon. “I ordered this shirt from Saks. It’s a Prada, and look at my belt.”
“Hmmm, let me guess, the big G on the buckle, Gucci maybe,” Nikki said. “Two hundo for a belt, what would the Guru Sansibaba say?”
“That’s not fair. He’d say, ‘Enjoy your wealth and live life to the fullest, but give to others, too,’ which I do. Now be nice.” Simon walked over to the freezer and took out a bottle of Stoli. “Want a martini?”
“No thanks,” Nikki replied. “You know, Simon, since I lost all of my clothes and things in the fire, and you are such the fashionista, I thought you might want to go into the city tomorrow and help me pick out some things.”
Simon clapped his hands. “Duh. I am so there.”
“Wait a minute, what about the spa?” Marco asked.
Simon frowned. “But poor Nikki. She needs me, and this is our opportunity to get her out of those Doris Day sweater sets she’s always sporting. It’s a Wednesday, hon, middle of the week, and with the . . . You know, the murder,” he whispered. “Well, I don’t think we’ll be too busy.”
“True. How can I say no to either one of you? Go, go, and I will take care of things here.”
Nikki gave Marco a kiss on the cheek. “Grazie.”
She turned back to Simon. “Early morning, okay? I want to get there when the stores open. Let’s leave by eight and we’ll grab coffee and croissants at Bouchon first.”
“I’ll be at your door with bells on.”
Nikki went back to her stool in the wine bar and had one more glass of wine, hoping Andrés would show. Trevor and Janie had taken off, and she sat watching Marco and Simon cooking in the kitchen together. Love was a wonderful thing. She felt kind of bad that she’d basically wooed Simon into going into the city under the shopping guise, but she knew if she’d told him the truth about what they were going to do, he’d have flipped out. She probably could have convinced him after he’d had his martini. But who had the energy for that? This way she’d have him in the city before she sprung on him why they were really there.
Margherita Pizza with
Serra de Estrela Spanish Wine
Pizza began as a small savory pie sold by vendors on the streets of Naples. The popular margherita Pizza was named for Queen Margherita of Savoy. As the legend goes, the queen was staying in Naples and was curious about this strange dish. She requested a local chef make her a pizza; he created a tomato, basil, and mozzarella cheese combination in her honor. The preparation of the various ingredients can give each member of your family a special task.
Pair the pizza with a Spanish wine made from Albariño grapes. The one Marco suggests is Serra da Estrela. This wine contains wonderful apricot flavors that are complemented with lemon-lime and a subtle floral accent. It’s a classic wine that ma
kes a perfect match for Mediterranean dishes with green olives, garlic, and capers.
1⁄4 cup pesto (recipe follows)
1 large prepared pizza crust
1 cup smoked mozzarella cheese, shredded
1 large tomato, thinly sliced
1⁄4 cup slivered sun-dried tomatoes (recipe follows,
too)
1⁄4 cup of kalamata olives
2 tbsp pine nuts
Spread the Pesto on the pizza crust. Top with 1⁄2 of the mozzarella cheese. Place the fresh tomato slices evenly over the cheese. Sprinkle with the sun-dried tomatoes, olives, and pine nuts; top with the remaining cheese. Bake at 400° for 10 minutes.
PESTO
2 cloves of garlic
1 cup basil, chopped
1⁄4 cup parmesan cheese
1⁄4 cup olive oil
1 tbsp pine nuts or walnuts
Place the garlic in a food processor or blender and process until minced. Add all other ingredients to the garlic and process until pureed. Refrigerate, covered, for 2 to 3 days, or freeze until ready to use.
SUN-DRIED TOMATOES
8 roma tomatoes
Cut the tomatoes in half lengthwise. Place them in a circle on 8 pieces of paper toweling. Dry in the microwave for 45 minutes at 30 percent power. Turn every 10 minutes. Continue to dry at 30 percent power, 10 minutes at a time, until most of the moisture is removed. Store in a cool, dry place in a covered container.
Chapter 20
“You want me to what?” Simon asked. He and Nikki stood outside the building on Montgomery Street, where the offices of The Kingston Law Group were housed. Simon stomped his foot. “I knew it was too good to be true. You take me to lunch at that digi place on Nob Hill, and then buy whatever I suggest at Nordy’s—”
Nikki interrupted. “I know, and I love everything you picked, and I promise you I’ll wear everything.”
Simon placed a hand on his jutted-out hip. “I did do a great job, didn’t I? Maybe I should be a personal shopper. Oh, wait a minute, I see what you’re doing. No, uh-uh. I don’t think so, Goldilocks. You have been so digging up the dirt and that’s why someone started that fire at the house and now you want me to go in there and be someone I’m not. Excuse me. Hello!” He waved a hand in front of her. “Where is your common sense, girlfriend? Out the door, that’s where.”
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