by Brenda Grate
Then she groaned. Aunt Connie would tell her mother about him. She’d not thought of that. Just hadn’t gotten past wanting to be in a safe environment.
It was too late now.
Chapter 11
A tray of buns hit the floor with a clang. Connie jumped and grabbed her heart. Then her head as she surveyed the mess. The new kitchen help stared at Connie, dread and fear all over her sixteen-year-old face.
“I’m so sorry, Connie. Take it out of my pay.”
If Connie had a dollar for every time a kitchen helper said those words to her, she wouldn’t need to work again.
“Just clean up the mess and go get some more buns from the freezer. Hopefully we won’t run out before they’re thawed and ready.”
Connie turned away, too busy to employ her usual compassion. This girl, Kira, was more clumsy than most. It wouldn’t be long before she’d have to let her go. Connie only held back because the girl seemed to be a quick study and really wanted to be a chef one day. Hopefully it was only nerves that caused her to be clumsy.
Maybe in a few more days she’ll come into her own.
The pasta pot bubbled, ready to boil over. Connie grabbed a slotted spoon in one hand and a heat pad in another. She was already infamous for her compassion on new help, so they all seemed to find their way to her restaurant. She didn’t mind helping someone get a leg up in the business. Where would she be if people hadn’t done that for her, especially in Rome?
Connie’s gaze blurred on the pasta pot as Rome came into focus in her mind. The Eternal City. She’d loved Rome.
Connie gave the pasta a vicious stir. What she hadn’t loved was getting her heart broken by Giovanni. She’d found out only after she’d slept with him that he had a wife and child. He’d begged her to stay, promised to put her in a house and keep her in style if she’d agree to be his mistress.
Connie looked around the kitchen, teeming with sweaty cooks, and smiled to herself. At the time she’d been insulted and furious, but maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad to be taken care of.
She turned back to the pasta, pulled out a noodle and tasted it. Almost al dente. She gave it a quick stir, pulling her thoughts away from impossible dreams.
What is wrong with me? I love Il Giardino.
That’s what bothered her. The restaurant was the most popular place around and she’d done it all on her own. She used to have such pride in it, but it had recently become a job rather than a passion. She’d always been passionate about cooking and serving food, so where had that gone?
Connie grabbed the pot and dumped the pasta into the waiting colander.
“Con, I’ve got three orders for the pasta primavera.”
Penelope stood at her shoulder, practically vibrating. Connie remembered when she’d been that energetic, how she’d loved the rush of dinner hour and the madness of trying to get perfect dishes out in the shortest amount of time possible.
“Keep your hair on, Pen. Here you go.” Connie handed her the pasta and stepped away from the station. Without a word, Rick stepped in to take Connie’s place. He gave her a cheeky grin as he began to prepare another pot of pasta.
They’d had a fling and ended up friends. Connie was glad because she couldn’t imagine her kitchen without Rick’s unflappable sense of humor and quick thinking to avert disaster. He was worth much more than she paid him, but he would stay for less. They had a good arrangement.
Connie felt a tug in her loins as she remembered the fun they’d had. He was a generous lover, and had given her a very nice time. But it had always felt like she cuddled with her best friend after, so she’d never taken it further. He’d recently started dating someone new, and Connie was glad for him.
“I’m taking a smoke break,” Connie called out to the staff. A few laughs followed her out the back door. None of the staff at Il Giardino smoked. It was Connie’s one unspoken rule. Once as a joke, a new hire had said it, and forever after it became the parting shot as they left for a break.
Taking a break in the middle of the dinner rush would normally be suicide, but Connie had done well with her staff. She no longer even needed to come in if she didn’t want to, but what else would she do? She had no life outside of the restaurant.
The air had cooled some from the warmth of the day, but it felt nice after the heat of the kitchen. Connie pulled off her chef coat and tossed it over her shoulder. Sometimes she liked to walk around the restaurant during her breaks, watching from the side to see who came for dinner. She hadn’t done it in far too long.
The street in front of Il Giardino had no parking room left. Someone getting out of a car double-parked in front of the restaurant caught Connie’s eye just as she went to turn away.
Connie pressed herself against the side of the brick building and watched Jennifer Jenkins make her way to the front doors. Whoever had dropped her off pulled into the parking lot across the street and took the spot of a diner who was just leaving. Connie peeked around to the doors where Jen waited for the driver.
Her curiosity piqued, Connie stepped back in the shadows and watched the driver cross the street. Jen had always let Connie know when she was coming in for dinner. She couldn’t be trying to hide anything, or why would she have come to Il Giardino, but it was odd that she didn’t call first. It was a weekday evening, so Jen would know she’d be able to get a table, especially as she was part of the family.
I wonder who she’s having dinner with …
The breath caught in her throat as the young man came into the street lights.
Now that’s a man!
Connie fanned her face and smiled, then she lost her smile and peeked around the side of the building again. He was definitely not Jen’s normal type.
Connie watched while the man put his arm around Jen and guided her through the door. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear and Jen didn’t move away, something she would normally do. Jen had always kept her distance from her dates, showed them who was in control, but with this guy she seemed to be practically glued to his side.
Connie raced around to the back door and into the kitchen. She had to know who he was and what Jen was doing with him.
After all, I’m her godmother!
The kitchen looked busier than ever and Connie felt some guilt that she’d taken so long on her break. She moved to the prep table and elbowed Melissa aside. Without a word, Melissa moved toward the back door for her break, wiping her brow on her arm as she walked.
Carl, one of the wait staff, entered the kitchen. Connie called him over.
“My niece and a date just showed up. Did you seat them?”
Connie had always felt it easier to call Jen her niece to other people, just as Jen always called her Auntie Con. She and Emma were close enough to be sisters.
“Angela did, but I’ll be their waiter. Don’t worry. I’ll give them great service.”
Connie smiled. “You always give everyone great service, Carl. I want to know what they order. When it’s ready, I’ll take it out to them.”
“Sure thing,” Carl said over his shoulder as he grabbed two plates and swung back out the door.
“Your niece is here, Con?” Rick called from the pasta station.
“Yep, and you can just stay in the kitchen,” Connie shot back at him.
Rick had crushed on Jen for a long time. Connie told him he was far too old for her and definitely not Jen’s type, but Rick didn’t care. He always asked about her and tried to maneuver his way into being the one to bring out her meal. Jen liked him a lot and didn’t seem to be drawn in by his flirting, but Connie was never too careful where Jen was concerned.
The time flew while Connie did prep-work, then covered for Rick while he took his break. She watched until Jen and her date’s meals were ready, then she pulled off her coat and picked up the plates. She wore a pink T-shirt and jeans with her hair pulled back into a messy bun. She definitely didn’t look like the owner of a prestigious restaurant and Connie liked it that way. She had ne
ver been one to fit into anyone’s mold.
“Well, hello, Jennifer,” Connie crowed as she swept up to her table with the two plates held aloft.
Jen closed her eyes and swallowed, then opened them again and pasted on a huge smile.
“Auntie Con, how nice to see you.”
Connie set the plates on the table in front of Jen and the man across from her.
“Did you not expect to see me? This is my restaurant after all.”
Connie examined Jen’s face, surprised. Jen had never looked so embarrassed or nervous before. Her date smiled up at Connie with a flash of white teeth in a dark face.
Wow.
“You’re Jen’s aunt?” He got to his feet and stuck out a hand.
Connie looked up, way up, at him.
“You’re tall,” she said as she grabbed his hand. She gave it a quick business-like shake and let go. She wasn’t going to let him think he could charm Jen’s aunt so easily.
“Yes, I am.” He laughed easily. “I’m Dimitri. Dimitri Petrakis. It’s nice to meet you …”
“Connie.”
“Connie.” He sat back in his seat and smiled at Jen. “You didn’t tell me this was your aunt’s restaurant.”
A blush crept into Jen’s face.
Connie had to struggle to keep her mouth from dropping open. What the hell was wrong with her? She looked back at Dimitri, her eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t know if Auntie Con would be in or not.”
She knows I’m always here.
Connie patted Dimitri’s arm, then gave Jen a little stronger than necessary shoulder squeeze. She stared hard at her, then stepped back and smiled at them.
“Well, I’ll let you get on with your dinner. Buon appetito!”
“Thanks, Auntie.”
“Yes, thank you, Connie. It was nice to meet you.”
She waved and headed back to the kitchen. She’d have to keep an eye on that young man. She’d never worried for her niece before. Jen had always been able to handle herself around men. She’d kept the upper hand, so Connie had never worried for more than a few minutes that her heart would be in danger. This man, this exotic-looking man with built-in charm to spare … he could do damage—on a nuclear level.
Chapter 12
As Connie swung open the kitchen door, someone caught her eye and she paused before entering, her heart leaping into her throat.
Damn!
It was Archie McDougall, the owner of The Bar, a chain of restaurants that, in her opinion, littered the streets of Toronto. He was a self-made millionaire and had no qualms about telling everyone how he’d made his money and how one day he would also own Il Giardino.
She continued into the kitchen while she thought about what to do. She opened the walk-in cooler door and closed it behind her. It could be opened from the inside and it was quiet, so it had become one of Connie’s favorite places to think, especially when she got hot under the collar.
McDougall was having dinner alone in one of the coveted spots near the large window overlooking a beautiful park, which meant he had to have booked the table at least a month ahead. A month ago, Connie had thrown him out on his pudgy ass for insisting yet again that she would eventually sell him her beloved restaurant. He’d finally pushed her too far and Connie yelled at him to get out of her restaurant and never come back. And there he sat like he owned the world.
Connie flew out of the cooler, fists balled, seeing red. A pair of arms grabbed her around the waist and she landed back against a solid male body. She smelled a familiar scent.
“It’s not worth it, Con,” Rick whispered. “He’ll just keep coming back.”
She swung around and out of his grip. “Can’t I get a restraining order or something?”
“Seriously? He’s never caused any public disturbances, and you run a restaurant that is open to the public. You’d have to have more to go on than that he wants to buy the place.”
“He’s harassing me,” Connie sputtered.
“Maybe. But he’d have to come here more often than once every few months to constitute harassment, don’t you think?”
Connie stamped a foot, and Rick laughed. “I love it when you do that. I can suddenly picture a six year old Connie who isn’t getting her way.”
Connie struggled to hold back the smile, but it broke through anyway. She slumped in defeat and leaned back against the cooler door. The kitchen staff bustled around them, too busy to notice their discussion.
Dammit, she loved this place and she wasn’t going to sell out, no matter how routine it had gotten. Not to Archie McDougall anyway.
“Are you sure about this, Con?”
“About what?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to sell?”
Connie stared at Rick with her mouth hanging open. She snapped it shut and glared at him. “How could you ask me that?”
Rick looked at her with knowing eyes.
“You’re losing your fire. Plus, you’re fighting awfully hard with McDougall when all you have to do is say no with conviction.”
Connie looked at the floor.
“I think he’d stop coming back,” Rick added. “If he actually believed you weren’t going to sell to him.”
Connie grabbed Rick’s arm and dragged him down a short hallway from the kitchen into her office. She pushed him into the chair in front of her desk and stood over him with her arms crossed. “How can you say that to me? I love this place.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Rick said with a smug look.
Connie fumed while she paced. Her desk phone rang. She stomped over, gave Rick another glare and then snatched it up.
“Il Giardino.” Connie had to give herself props for being able to sound so calm considering the storm raging inside her.
“Con? It’s Em. Do you have time to talk? Or can you call me back when you’re free?”
Emma always did that. Connie’s temper rose another notch, but she held it back. Emma always put herself last, like the least important person on the team. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to bring her thoughts into focus.
“Con? You there?”
“Sorry Em, it’s really busy. I would love to talk, but I’ll probably have to call you back. Just give me about ten or fifteen minutes, ‘k?”
“No problem. Take your time. I’ll be here all evening. You okay? You sound pretty stressed.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. No worries. Just a busy night. I’ll call soon.”
Connie hung up, dropped into her chair and put her head on the desk.
Rick stepped around the desk and massaged her neck. Connie moaned and moved to give him more access. He took her shoulders, pulled her upright and dug in with his strong fingers. A ripple of pleasure ran over her skin, and her muscles loosened a fraction. Rick had magic fingers.
“You need some time to chill, woman.”
Connie whimpered in protest as he stepped away, but he was soon back after locking her office door.
“Just take a few minutes to calm down and everything will look much better when you step out again.” He went back to massaging her neck.
Connie let her head drift back until it rested against his hard stomach.
“Mmmm …” she sighed. “You’re so good at that.”
“I know, baby,” he said, softly, suggestively, while his hands roamed lower. Connie’s eyes snapped open when they cupped her breasts.
She struggled to get away, but he used his forearms to push her back in the chair.
“Let me soothe you, this is what you need.”
“Rick,” Connie protested despite the delicious sensations curling up in her. “We don’t do this anymore.”
He laughed, a rumble in her ears. “Why not? We’re very good together. You’re free, I’m free. We’re both adults and friends.”
Connie looked up at his face over hers. “Free? You’re not with Rebecca?”
“Nope.”
Connie didn’t miss the pain that flashed in his
eyes. “I’m sorry, Rick. I know you really cared about her.”
“It’s okay, wasn’t meant to be.” He dropped closer and kissed down her jaw and left a wet trail of kisses over her neck, ending on her collarbone.
Connie shivered and gave up the fight. Rick was exactly what she needed.
He stepped back and spun her chair toward him. He took the hem of her T-shirt and slid it smoothly over her head. “You’re going to need more than fifteen minutes, babe.”
“Hmmm?” Connie mumbled from deep in the fog of desire.
“To call Emma back. You’re going to need at least a half hour, maybe more.”
Connie smiled down at him as he crouched between her legs and reached for the button on her jeans.
“Oh, yes, right.”
Rick laughed and pulled her to her feet. He stripped off her jeans and panties in one smooth move then grabbed her hips and placed her on the edge of the desk. Connie didn’t even care that she sat on invoices and utility bills.
She reached for Rick’s jean’s button as he pulled his shirt off. Soon she sat in only a bra and he stood naked in front of her, very obviously desiring her. She arched her back and undid the clasp of her bra. Rick pulled her to him, her bra getting caught between their bodies. He left a hot trail down her neck with his lips, and she gasped as he captured her nipple between his teeth.
“Rick, hurry,” she moaned. She wanted him more now than she ever had.
He grabbed her hips, lifted her slightly and slid inside, both of them moaning together.
“Ah, Connie,” he groaned, “you’re so ready for me. You always were.”
Connie dropped her head back and let herself be swept down the river of their passion.
They climaxed together and Rick slumped over her shoulder. Then someone knocked at the door.
“Hey, Connie, is Rick in there with you? We need him in the kitchen.”
Guilt shot through Connie and she tried to push Rick back. How could she be so selfish, taking her second in command away during dinner hour? He wouldn’t budge, just called out in a weaker than normal voice.
“I’ll be there in a sec, Angela.”
