He still didn’t trust Carla, even though his legal team had assured him there was no way she could cut him out of this deal. He wanted to believe them—believe in his wife. But he knew firsthand that the people you were supposed to trust the most were the ones that could let you down the most.
If it hadn’t been for his grandfather always pushing for everyone around him to do better, would his father still be here? Still be a part of his life?
As a child, he hadn’t understood why his parents had left. He’d decided way back then to focus fully on being the best CEO possible when he grew up. And his goal never wavered—until he met Carla. Now he wondered what it’d be like to share his life with someone he loved and trusted. Could Carla be that person?
His heart said yes, but his mind kept throwing up caution signs. He had no choice but to confront her about the redesigned labels he’d seen on her desk. He didn’t want her to think he’d been spying on her, but he didn’t see how he had any other choice.
He disconnected the call and set off down the hallway. The door to the conference room was ajar, and Carla was the only one inside.
She glanced up from her laptop. “Looks like we’re the first ones here.”
“We need to talk.” He closed the door, giving them some privacy.
She shut her laptop. “It sounds serious.”
“It is.”
He cleared his throat. “How are the labels for the spices coming?”
She glanced down to straighten some papers. “They aren’t ready yet.”
He was waiting for her to explain the reason her company’s name was on the label instead of his. “Anything I can help with?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got it. I’ve been working on it personally.”
That just made it worse. Any thoughts of pursuing some alone time with Carla just fizzled away. If he couldn’t trust her, he just couldn’t let her get close to him.
He cleared his throat. “Why isn’t the Marchello name on the in-house labels?”
Her gaze met his. Worry reflected in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw the mockups on your desk. They look a lot like your current labels.”
She sat up straight. “You weren’t meant to see those.”
“Because you’re planning to cut me out of this deal and run with all of our ideas on your own?”
Her mouth opened as though she was appalled by his accusation, but he noticed she didn’t immediately deny the allegation. Then her glossy lips pressed into a firm line as her eyes darkened with anger. “Is that really what you think of me?”
“You wouldn’t be the first person in my life to put your personal interests ahead of your obligation to me.”
All of a sudden, the flames of anger were doused and she looked upon him with sympathy. “Are you talking about your parents?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I just need to know that you’re going to keep your word.”
“I am. I promise.”
He wanted to believe her. But could he? His heart said yes. But his mind said to be cautious.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“WHERE ARE WE GOING? There’s work to be done.”
The following week, Franco smiled at Carla’s complaint. He guided his dark sedan along the roadway toward the northern Lake Como region. He had just seen the new in-house labels with the Marchello name prominently displayed. Carla had kept her word.
And now he’d planned a special field trip for them. They’d been working night and day ironing out the details of this collaboration. At times, it’d been intense. At other times, they’d played off each other’s inspiration.
This venture was going to be so much more than he’d ever hoped for—bigger than any PR campaign that Marchello Spices had ever participated in throughout the history of the company. And he couldn’t wait to reveal it all to his grandfather. It would prove to him once and for all that he was the rightful successor.
“Franco, you missed the turnoff to the lake.”
“I know. We have a stop to make before we go to the villa.”
“But I thought you said this was going to be a working weekend.”
“It is, but today is so warm and sunny that I thought we’d work outdoors.” He smiled as he thought of the special plan he’d put together.
“Outdoors? I don’t think so. Now isn’t the time to lose focus. We are so close to having this plan all mapped out. Then we just have to put all the pieces into action.”
They already had quite a few projects in the works. Both of their companies had come into this agreement with plans already underway. Carla’s company had the facelifts planned and in motion with the restaurants, while his company had worked on new spice combinations as well as recipes to highlight those spices.
But there was still one area where the two of them just couldn’t come together—the advertisements for this new venture. Carla wanted to go with the tried-and-true ad segments with young people enjoying food in a Falco restaurant. She was eager to draw in the young crowd who would turn into lifelong patrons.
He, on the other hand, wanted to do something totally new to show the viewers, both young and old alike, that even though it was still their favorite reliable restaurant, there was something new lurking beyond its doors. They’d even had numerous PR teams pitch ad campaign after ad campaign. While they liked bits and pieces of the various ads, none were the full image they’d been hoping for.
But Franco had something in mind, and he was willing to gamble a day of work to play it out and see if he and Carla could agree upon one vision that they could take back to their teams.
“Just relax.” He easily guided the car along the narrow, winding road.
She didn’t say anything as she leaned her head back against the seat and stared out the window at the passing greenery. He hoped the crew he’d put in charge of this surprise wouldn’t let him down. He’d given them very precise instructions.
Finally, their destination came into sight. Franco slowed the car and pulled off to the side of the desolate road near a white panel truck with the Marchello Spices slogan emblazed on the side.
“Where are we?” Carla sat up and looked all around at the empty field.
“This property belongs to a friend of mine.”
Just then the men climbed into the white truck and with a wave pulled away, allowing a view of a table with a red-and-white tablecloth in the middle of the green field with the mountain range in the background.
“What is this?” Carla asked.
“It’s my surprise. Come on.” He climbed out of the car.
She joined him. Then he took her hand and led her to the table. He pulled out a chair for her. And then he sat across from her. In the center of the table stood a candle and some flowers. There was a slight breeze, so the candle remained unlit.
“This is—” she glanced around “—definitely different. But I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”
That’s when Franco reached into the insulated box next to him and removed two covered plates as well as wrapped utensils. “We talked about new dishes for the menu that utilize the Marchello Spices blends.”
“Oh.” She lifted the lid from the small china plate and found an arrangement of pasta and a side of a vegetable medley. “This is very impressive.”
He smiled. “I hope you like the taste as much as the appearance.”
“I hope so, too.”
He poured them each a glass of sparkling water. And then they started sampling the food. There were numerous plates all done up with specifically chosen dishes as well as garnishments.
They ate and then compared notes. Some were pretty good. Some dishes were not so good, but a few were exceptional.
When they’d finished eating, Carla said, “I think we’ve found our menu items. Of course, we’
ll have to run them by our focus group, but I can’t see how they won’t love them.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. My group has been perfecting these recipes since before we started working together.”
Carla took a sip of water. She glanced toward the road as a couple of cars slowed to stare before passing. “It looks like we’re getting some strange looks.”
“They’re just jealous and wish they could have a picnic lunch like ours.”
She turned to him. “Why did you pick this place? Why not eat at the villa?”
“Because I thought this might inspire thoughts for the ad campaign.”
She looked all around. “You want to feature a field for the backdrop for eating our new dishes?”
“It’s not just any field. It’s picturesque, with the Alps in the background.” He wasn’t doing a good job of explaining his concept to her.
“I think I know what you mean,” Carla said. “The food can transport you to a different place. By eating Falco Fresco with Marchello Spices, it can take you from enjoying the ordinary to experiencing something extraordinary.”
He pulled out his phone and started making notes.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, it seems I’m not the only one good at thinking up slogans. I wanted to write it down before I forget.”
“It’s not that good.”
“I think with your words and my vision, the ad campaign will be a big success.”
She smiled at him, warming that spot in his chest. “I think we make a great team.”
“I do, too.” And he truly meant it.
“It’s a good thing I thought of it.” She sent him a teasing grin.
Carla got to her feet and pulled out her phone. She started taking photos of their surroundings. “I do like the idea of a table in the middle of a green field.”
Franco cleared the table, placing their dishes back in the cooler. Then he texted his team to come back and pick up everything. His job here was done. Well, almost...
“Do you think our families will be impressed?”
“How could they not be?” She smiled at him. “You mentioned seeing your parents from time to time. Will either of them attend the reveal party?”
He shook his head. “My father never attends public functions, especially if they’re about the family business. And my mother, well, I have no idea what she’s doing these days.”
Carla reached out, placing her hand over his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
He didn’t like her looking at him like he was weak and not as good as everyone else—the way he felt in school when there was a special event for his parents to attend and instead he either skipped it or brought his grandparents. And it didn’t go unnoticed by his classmates, who’d make snide comments. He pushed the painful memories to the back of his mind.
Instead of speaking of his past, he asked, “You lost your mother, too. Is that why you let your father get away with so much?”
She glanced away and then nodded. “I’d been away at school when my mother got sick. She insisted they wait to tell me about her prognosis until I came home for the holidays. What neither of my parents anticipated was how quickly her disease would progress.”
“So they lied to you?”
“They did. When I saw my mother again, she was so weak and sick.” Carla swiped at the tears on her cheeks.
He’d thought he’d had a rough childhood, but at least no one had lied to him. No one ever said his parents would come back for him and his brother. No one was that good of a liar.
He glanced down where their hands were still joined. This time, he was the one to give her a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“I feel like if I had known, I could have done things differently, which is silly, because nothing I could have done would have saved her. But I wasn’t ready to lose her. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, things I wanted to ask and things I wanted us to do together.”
“Like plan your wedding?” When she nodded, he said, “When you get married for real, your father will be happy for you, and your mother will be smiling down upon you.”
The thing was, he’d started feeling that this marriage was the real deal. When he had business dinners, Carla was the first person he called and profusely apologized to for not being able to dine with her. The truth was he’d lost his interest in wooing new clients. He’d rather be eating on the couch while watching some comedy rerun Carla had picked out.
It was only then that he realized in the short amount of time they’d been married, they’d settled into a routine—a comfortable routine. Perhaps too comfortable. Definitely too comfortable. Because what would happen when Carla left? And she would leave.
“Enough about us.” Carla’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “We should get back to work. When we get to the villa, we need to go over the final party details for our grand announcement.” She got to her feet and then turned back to him. “Are you coming?”
“I, uh, sure.”
She smiled at him.
“What’s that for?”
“You just surprise me. I thought your whole life was about work, but it’s not.”
“It’s not?”
She continued to smile as she shook her head. “This is a prime example.”
“It is?” He wasn’t sure he was comfortable where she was going with this, because his work was what was most important to him. It was what he could count on—what he could control.
“You could have given me a presentation on all this.” She waved her hands around at the serene field and the picturesque mountains. “But instead you brought me out here for a leisurely picnic.”
He’d thought he was making a strong pitch—one she couldn’t resist. But would he have gone to such lengths for any other business associate? The answer was a resounding no.
And that worried him. Carla had him acting out of character. And worse yet, he liked doing all these things with her. But he didn’t do commitments.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT WAS LATE, and she was tired.
There were pressing matters on her desk. But nothing that couldn’t wait for another day.
However, there was one thing that had been nagging at Carla. The way her stomach constantly felt as though it was on a roller coaster. For the past couple of weeks, she’d been so busy putting the final touches on this big reveal party that she hadn’t had time to stop.
And dinner, well, dinner usually came from a takeaway container. Even though she’d been pleasantly surprised to learn that Franco was an excellent cook, neither of them had been home long enough to visit the kitchen for anything other than a coffee to go. And so for the past several days, she’d blamed her uneasy stomach and consumption of antacids on her poor diet.
Moments ago, she’d heard a couple of women in the break room talking about one being pregnant. She momentarily wondered if that was her problem. She quickly dismissed the idea. There was no way.
And just as quickly the memory of their wedding night came back to her. Oh yes, it was possible. In her flurry of nervous activity, she’d missed taking her birth control one day. One measly day. Was that all it took?
Carla rushed to her desk and picked up her calendar. Yes, it was a paper calendar because phones were great and all, but sometimes she needed to see things in print. Her crazy schedule was one that she wanted laid out in front of her.
And on her calendar, she kept some personal notes. She religiously marked the first day of her period with a little star in the bottom corner of that appropriate day. Now she just had to locate the little star. Surely it couldn’t be that long ago.
There was no way she was pregnant with Franco’s baby. No way at all. Because that would definitely complicate things in so many ways.
She’d just flipped a page in her weekly planner when there was a knock on her open door. Why in the world had she left the door open? Now was not the time for interruptions.
“Hi.” Gianna stuck her head inside the doorway. “Can I come in?”
Carla pushed away her day planner and waved her cousin into the office. She sent her a weary smile. “I’m surprised to see you.”
As Gianna stepped into the office, Carla couldn’t help but notice how her pregnancy was already starting to show. Carla’s hand instinctively moved to her still-flat abdomen. Would she look like her cousin soon—all round with a baby?
When she realized what she’d done, she glanced down, grateful that the desk had shielded her action. She didn’t need Gianna asking any questions, because she had absolutely no answers. She didn’t even know what questions needed to be asked.
The only question that came to mind at the moment was...was she pregnant?
“I wasn’t sure you’d still be around.” Gianna’s voice focused Carla’s thoughts on their conversation instead of the frantic, rambling thoughts floating around in her mind.
“I had some last-minute things to do.” Her gaze moved to her open day planner. There were no stars on the exposed page. But her search would have to wait for a couple more agonizing moments.
Gianna arched a brow. “Is everything ready to go for tomorrow?”
Carla nodded. Though internally she felt everything was anything but good. In fact, if her suspicions were right, everything was so very wrong. “We’re all set for the big announcement.”
“And how’s your father taking all this?”
“So far he hasn’t acknowledged my husband. All he can think about is how I married the enemy. But he’s intrigued by the changes to the restaurants.”
Sympathy radiated from Gianna’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
Carla shook her head. “It’ll all work out in the end. My father may be stubborn, but even he can’t argue when presented with profits.”
“I’m just so glad this is going to work out for you and Franco. You two make a good couple. Not only do you get along at home, but you also work well together at the office.”
Harlequin Romance September 2021 Box Set Page 26
