In the several months she’d known him, they’d knocked heads often enough to give each other a few mental bruises. He could just as easily have been calling her inflexible and stubborn as complimenting her. And in some of their encounters…well…perhaps she had been.
She liked having a plan, keeping things organized and wanting things done to a certain standard. Maybe that came off as controlling, but it was only because she cared—because she knew how horribly things could go wrong when you let the details slip through the cracks.
The sound of a saw blade whirred from someplace on the lower level. Cat shifted where she stood. At some point, she realized, she’d begun to care what Liam thought of her. She didn’t want to be Caterina, the bitch, whom he had no choice but to deal with because she’d hired him to build her a restaurant.
You had to respect someone to like them, and he’d just said he respected her—or at least that aspect about her. She might never understand what about her had turned him off from the beginning, but if he’d suddenly decided to put their differences behind them, she’d happily do the same.
Improving her relationship with Liam would make things more pleasant for everyone, and it would make accomplishing her goals for Serendipity easier if she didn’t have to battle him every step of the way.
HE’D ALWAYS THOUGHT her so self-assured—an unflappable, untouchable, prima donna whose depth was thinner than air. He’d come to realize over the last few weeks that he’d been wrong.
When he heard Caterina had been involved with Gregory, Liam had cast her in the same mold as Sylvie before he’d even met her. She was one of Gregory’s women, so she must be self-absorbed and as lacking in character as he was. Why else would she be involved with that scum?
Liam still didn’t understand that story, but there was more to her than he’d given her credit for. If she let him, he thought he’d enjoy getting to know the real Caterina instead of the one he’d unfairly pegged her to be.
“Listen,” he said, combing his hair off his forehead with his fingers. “You and me, we sort of got off to a bad start.”
She gave a delicate snort.
“Yeah, I know.” He grinned at her expression. “An understatement. And although I’m not going to get into the reasons right now, I’ll own most of the blame.”
“I’ve always known you didn’t like me, and honestly, I’ve never been able to understand why. So, I won’t argue; you set the tone, but I did get snarky in return. I’m usually a lot nicer to people.”
“I like to think I am too.” Liam gave her a self-deprecating smile. “So, I’ve been thinking, maybe we should try to start over. This project still has a good eight or nine months left in it. That’s a long time to keep trying to come up with new and insulting names to call each other.”
She laughed, rich and spontaneous, giving him a glimpse of her humor, a small peek through the shell he grew ever more curious to crack.
“Okay,” she said, her lips playing with a smile, “but I never actually heard you call me an insulting name. At least not to my face.”
“If you could have read my mind, I probably would have felt the sting of your hand connecting with my cheek once or twice.”
“Oh, really?”
“Totally uncalled for. You in no way resemble Cruella de Vil. She’s taller, and, you know, she’s got that skunk thing going on with her hair.”
“You’re right, my hand’s starting to itch. And how do you know Cruella de Vil? You’re a…a builder guy. You’re all about driving a pickup, and power tools, and looking all hunky in your worn-out jeans and work boots.”
“I do like my power tools. But don’t forget, I’ve got a four-year-old daughter, and she’s forced me to watch every Disney movie ever made at least three hundred times.”
Liam hooked a thumb through one of the belt loops on his jeans. “As far as my work clothes, I’ve never considered them date attire, but if you think they make me look hunky, I’ll wear them when we go to dinner Saturday night.”
“Dinner? Saturday night?” Caterina drew her brows together. “What’s Saturday night?”
“Dinner. You’re a chef. Surely you’ve heard of it. Usually involves food being served, and we eat it. Maybe we have some wine with it, and if the portions are small, some dessert.”
She reached out and pushed him on the shoulder. “I know what dinner is, Liam.” She huffed the words. “I’m just not sure what this is about.”
“It’s about you and me going to dinner on Saturday.”
“Why?” She studied him through eyes that looked unsure, cautious.
“You’ve got to eat, I’ve got to eat, so I thought we might try eating together.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“I’m trying, but I must be doing a poor job of it.”
“You’re not doing a poor job. I’m just…surprised, and I don’t really understand—”
“Hey, Liam,” Burke hollered up from below, “could you come down here? I need your opinion on something.”
“Be right there,” Liam yelled back. He held up the box of doughnuts. “Thanks again for these. I’ll let the guys know you brought them.” He turned to leave. “Oh yeah.” He looked down at her shoes. “I told you not to wear those spiky heels on the construction site. It’s not safe.”
Caterina put her hands on her hips, gave him a look. Like most things about her, he was ready to admit, it turned him on. It seemed he couldn’t help himself. He tucked the doughnut box against his side and cupped the back of her head with his free hand, swooped in and stole a kiss, hard and hot, and ended it too soon for his liking.
She backed up and blinked, looked shaken.
Liam grinned. “But if you want to wear them Saturday night, I won’t object. You look sexy as hell in them.” He winked and then made for the stairs, knowing the taste of her full lips would remain in his thoughts to distract him for the rest of the day.
“I didn’t say yes,” she called after him.
“I’ll pick you up at six. And tell your sisters not to wait up for you. Riley’s having a sleepover with her cousin, so I get to stay out past her bedtime.” And, he thought without saying, hopefully get to explore more than those lips in private, without the risk of someone interrupting them at any moment.
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches
in the soul—and sings the tunes without
the words—and never stops at all.”
Emily Dickinson
What was that tune? Caterina wondered. She heard the soft humming of it in her dream, something she remembered from her childhood. She turned over in her sleep, onto her side. No, her eyes were still closed, but she’d awoken. The humming must be a lingering remembrance from a dream, still fresh in her conscious even though the rest of it had flitted away, as dreams often do.
Rolling to her back, she stretched her arms up into the air until she felt the pull and sighed aloud. It had taken forever to fall asleep the night before. After tossing and turning for hours, her restless mind debating—would she or wouldn’t she go out with Liam Saturday night—she’d finally drifted off. She didn’t know when, but the last time she’d looked, the bedside clock read 3:33.
And oddly, she’d lost sleep for nothing. Apparently, without consciously deciding, it seemed she’d decided. At some point her mind must have put the question to rest, either because arguing with herself over the whys or why nots had become tedious, or because, deep down, it was what she wanted, and she had only obsessed over it because it was her nature to do so.
Cat sensed that it was still very early, well before her normal waking time. Maybe she should pull the comforter over her head and try to steal a few more hours of shut-eye. Her mind argued, you’ve a two-page list of things you need to do.
The holiday open house was tomorrow night. She had hors d’oeuvres to make, cookies and pastry shells to bake, setups to organize, and a tour schedule to coordinate with her sisters. She needed to get as much done today as
she could, so tomorrow all she’d need to do was make the canapés and the fillings for the pastries that couldn’t be done in advance and finalize the setup.
She knew exactly how she would dress the buffet tables, how the food would be arranged, and that it would be not only unique, but top-notch. This year, more so than in past years, everything had to be perfect because word was already out that she and Lucia would be opening Serendipity next fall. In addition to a larger boutique hotel, they would have a full-service restaurant. Although they’d only be offering appetizers and desserts at the open house, guests would be able to get an idea of the quality they could expect when the restaurant opened for business.
Caterina intended to make sure anyone sampling from her buffet would not be disappointed with what they had to look forward to.
That humming. She still heard it, in the background, behind her thoughts. She opened her eyes to the dim light of a still-young dawn and flung back the comforter. Swinging her legs out over the side of the bed, she sat up. Then she blinked. Blinked again. She reached up to rub her eyes, and the woman standing next to the bed vanished, the humming evaporating with her.
Cat stared at the empty space, barely breathing. Did I just see a ghost? Did I just freaking see a ghost?
Bolting off the bed, she dashed out into the hallway. She flicked on the light and yelled out, “Hey, sisters! Anyone!” She knocked on all their doors. “Marcella! Luch! El! Get out here!”
Marcella appeared first, poking her head out of her door. “Is something wrong?” She pushed back the veil of hair covering half her face, looking only half-awake. “It’s like…not even six o’clock.”
Caterina darted to Marcella’s doorway, grabbed her hand, and tugged her out into the hall.
“What’s going on?” Lucia padded out in her nightgown, rubbing her eyes. Eliana opened her door and leaned against the frame. She yawned and then squinted in the light. “Did something happen?”
“Yes! Something happened!” Cat was still hanging on to Marcella as if she needed the physical contact to convince herself she wasn’t asleep, hadn’t dreamt or imagined her dead aunt standing next to her bed.
“I saw her!”
“Saw who?” Lucia asked, still adjusting to the brightness.
“Her! Rosa! I just saw her. At least I’m guessing it was her, unless we’ve got more than one ghost roaming around the place. She stood right next to my bed, just looking at me with…with this smile and humming.”
“Well, that’s kind of creepy,” Eliana said with a grimace. “Was it like a crazy, I-might-have-a-knife-behind-my-back kind of smile that’s going to make us all have nightmares now?”
“No, nothing like that. It was…I don’t know, affectionate…sort of like the look Mom used to get sometimes when she looked at one of us.” Cat let go of her sister’s hand and hugged herself. She’d been surprised—more like shocked—but she hadn’t felt threatened or afraid. She supposed that said a lot about how accepting she’d become of Rosa’s presence in their home.
“So, she wasn’t trying to murder you?”
“Of course not! I think we’ve already concluded that she doesn’t mean us any harm.”
“Well, I’m glad there’s no emergency.” El stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “So why did we all get this early morning wake-up call then?”
“Sorry.” Caterina sighed, feeling bad now that she’d woken them all for no good reason. “I didn’t realize it was so early. I was just so startled. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“It’s okay.” Moving to her side, Lucia wrapped an arm around Cat’s shoulder and gave her a brief hug. “Any one of us would probably have reacted the same.”
Eliana pushed away from her door and walked over to Cat, embraced her for a moment. “Sorry if I sounded insensitive. I’ve still got my morning grump on. Luch is right. Waking up to find a ghost standing over you would be enough to freak anyone out.”
“So now that we’re all up,” Marcella threw out, “could anyone else go for a cup of coffee?”
“I was just thinking how good that would be.” Eliana winked at their sister.
“I’ll make it,” Lucia offered. “With everything that needs to get done, it’ll be good to get a jump on the day.”
“I’ll cut up some melon and heat up some scones from the freezer.” Caterina smiled around at her sisters. “Thanks. There’s no way I’d have been able to get back to sleep.”
The door to the attic stairwell creaked open to reveal Antonio, standing there in a pair of boxers and a plain, white tee shirt. “Is everything okay? I woke up to the sound of voices, but it’s still dark out. I thought maybe something was wrong.”
“Everything’s fine. We’re just having a sisters’ meeting,” Lucia assured him.
He looked them over with raised brows. “Before sunrise, in the middle of the hallway?”
Lucia walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “Go back to bed, Antonio. I’ll explain later.” She turned him around and gave him a pat on the rear. “Off with you, now.”
He glanced back, scratched his forehead, squinted around at the lot of them curiously, but took himself up the stairs as instructed, to the makeshift bedroom they’d put on the other side of the attic from his office after he and Lucia had gotten engaged. It was little more than a bed and a clothing bureau behind a half wall, which was fine since he spent a fair number of nights in Lucia’s room. But it gave him a space of his own when he wanted, without tying up one of the six guest rooms until they got married.
“Doesn’t it seem unfair that a man can look that gorgeous after just stumbling out of bed at an ungodly hour in the morning?” Eliana mused when Lucia rejoined them.
Lucia’s mouth curled. “Not to me it doesn’t.”
“I HAVE A theory that Rosa is playing matchmaker,” Marcella told her sisters as they gathered around the kitchen table a short while later, sipping fresh-brewed coffee and noshing on orange-raspberry scones that Caterina had pulled from the freezer and heated in the oven.
“When she focused on Lucia, it was like she’d decided she and Antonio belonged together. Like they were soul mates or something. So, she kept doing things to make sure they ended up that way. It wasn’t that hard, since they had the hots for each other from the get-go. But when they hit that rough patch where Lucia wouldn’t give him the time of day, Rosa locked them in the kitchen until she agreed to hear him out.”
El broke a corner off one of the scones and took a nibble. “These are so good, Cat.” She took a sip of coffee and then reached for the rest of the scone. “I don’t disagree,” she said, “but why would she care about our love lives, and why now?”
“I don’t know,” Marcella said. “Why would she lock them in a room until they dealt with each other, unless she wanted them to work things out? It was like she knew they belonged together and wasn’t going to let them screw it up. And now it looks like she’s doing the same thing with Cat and Liam.”
“Wait a minute.” Caterina interrupted, seeing the flaw in her twin’s theory. “You can’t compare me and Liam to Lucia and Antonio. They were clearly gaga over each other, and if you’re one of those people who believes in destiny—which I don’t, but that’s beside the point—then Rosa’s interference might be understandable. But me and Liam? We’re the antithesis of the perfect match. He disliked me from the moment we met. He’s got to be the most difficult man I’ve ever had to deal with. If it weren’t for my superior self-control, I’d probably be doing time for murder right now, and Serendipity would just have been a nice dream, never to be realized because I killed our contractor.”
“Didn’t look like you wanted to kill him when I walked in on the two of you trying to eat each other’s face in the lobby a few days ago,” Marcella said, tilting her head and grinning at Cat.
“That was an aberration.” One Caterina had enjoyed more than she wanted to admit. And now, one she wouldn’t mind exploring further. Which she may be getting the chance to do if
they managed to get through their date Saturday night.
“This above all: to thine own self be true.” Eliana waxed poetic.
“Thanks, Shakespeare,” Cat said, scowling. Truthfully, she’d much rather spend some time getting to know Liam better now than plotting ways to torture him. Not that she believed for a moment they’d end up falling in love and planning a happily ever after like Lucia and Antonio. But if their date went well, she might consider the possibility of a mutually satisfying, no-strings arrangement. She was a grown woman. She had needs and desires and just knew he could satisfy them.
“Cat,” Lucia said and reached out to touch her hand, as if to cushion her next words. “It hasn’t escaped any of us that there’s been some tension between you and Liam.”
Caterina barked out a laugh.
“Okay.” Lucia patted her hand. “Clear and obvious tension, mistrust, scowls, and visual daggers. Better?”
Cat nodded. “More like it.”
“Nonetheless, neither has it escaped any of us that the two of you have been fighting an attraction that’s clearly been consuming you both. And I think, and I’m only saying this because I love you, if you stopped fighting it so much and let nature take its course, you might be a lot happier about it.”
“What she means,” Eliana said, “is have some hot sex with him, get it out of your system, and you won’t feel so bitchy about him anymore. Denial is not a healthy thing, sister.”
“I don’t know if that’s exactly what I meant,” Lucia qualified, “but it does seem that you’ve both got some pent-up passion looking for an outlet.”
“Maybe we should rent a boxing ring,” Cat suggested, only half-joking.
Lucia removed her hand and picked up her coffee mug, took a sip. “Or maybe you could talk to him about your feeling that he never liked you, and you don’t know why. He must have a reason. Despite your differences, Liam’s a good guy. The rest of us all like him.”
Caterina Page 13
