The Secret One

by Cardello, Ruth

  I chuckled at that. “That sounds like a bluff if I ever heard one. What would you do if I took you up on it?”

  “I’ve got nothing to hide. If you want to pause our date to have a two-hour conversation with an overly protective Italian mother who will probably start calling you daily to check in once she has your number, that’s on you. My parents are amazing people, but they have a flexible concept of boundaries. Don’t tell my mother you’re hungry if you don’t want her to show up with more food than you could eat in a week.”

  A mother like that was so foreign to how I’d grown up I couldn’t imagine it. Even my father, whom I held in my mind as an above-average parent, hadn’t been what one would call nurturing. Had I called him and told him I was hungry, he would have asked me if my arms were broken, and we would have laughed.

  I tried to imagine me cooking for children of my own and couldn’t. My refrigerator was full of one-step dishes or leftovers from restaurants. Was it wrong that I was half-tempted to actually call Christof’s mother and claim I was starving just to experience what it was like to have someone show up with a bunch of Tupperware full of food? “Do you cook?”

  “Yes, but don’t tell my brothers. Mom only had boys, and a lot of her recipes were orally passed down from generation to generation. She’d been teaching Therese before . . . well, anyway, over the years I’ve compiled them into a database and learned the little tricks and tips that are essential for them to come out like she makes them. I don’t want to brag, but I’ve cooked for my friends, and one of them circled back when he opened a restaurant of his own and offered to buy my recipes. I refused because . . . I guess you could say I’m the keeper of the family secrets.”

  “How many siblings do you have? You’ve mentioned two so far.”

  “Three brothers: Sebastian and Mauricio are older than I am. Gian is nineteen and studying at Johns Hopkins. My parents are thrilled that we’ll have a doctor in the family in time for when they start to need one. Two sisters-in-law, Heather and Wren. One niece and two more babies on the way. How about you? Big family? Small one?”

  As he spoke, I remembered more and more from our first conversation, and a warm happiness spread through me. “When you mentioned your older brother, you said he’d lost his first wife. Does that mean he’s remarried?” I wanted him to be. I wanted to believe we’d all made it past our sadness.

  “He did.”

  I blinked back happy tears, and my lips quivered. “I’ve thought about you and your family over the years, and when I did, I always hoped you were able to get him out of the dark place he’d gone to.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Christof said. “His smile returned when he met Heather and her adorable daughter, Ava.”

  I didn’t argue with him about it, but my gut told me Sebastian wouldn’t have been a man anyone would choose to be with if Christof hadn’t stuck by him. “Did you finish school?”

  “Yes, although I did spend a lot more time with my family after that drunken night. Why do I have a feeling it had something to do with meeting you?”

  My mouth dried as snippets from our conversation echoed in my head. “We talked about a lot of things.”

  “You told me my brother couldn’t fail with someone like me on his side.” His voice became thick. “I needed to hear that because at the time I thought we’d both already failed each other.”

  I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. It was the perfect time to tell him about Decker Park and the part he’d played in encouraging me to make it a reality. I opened my mouth to but ended up closing it again without saying a word.

  I didn’t know exactly what held me back—fear?

  A smile returned to his face. “You kissed me.”

  I looked down at my ice cream and swirled my fork around in it. “No. You kissed me.”

  “Either way, it was spectacular.”

  I scoffed at that. “And yet somehow forgettable.”

  He didn’t have an immediate answer for that one. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I remember you drove your father’s car because it was a way to feel close to him.”

  “I still do.” He did remember. My gaze flew back to his image on the phone. The connection I’d felt to him the first time we’d met pulsed between us. It was different, though. He wasn’t drunk, and we weren’t both reeling from a loss. This time there was a primal attraction unlike anything I’d felt before.

  “I might have forgotten meeting you, but you stayed with me.”

  “Really?” I didn’t want bullshit from him, but he sounded sincere, and I wanted to believe him.

  “Something that made no sense to me before is clear now. A week after we met, I bought a broken-down car, had it towed to my parents’ garage, and have been working on it ever since.”

  “So I inspired your inner mechanic?”

  “No, you inspired me. I worked on that car instead of going to the bar with my friends. It made a real difference in what I could handle at home.”

  Had my words of encouragement really moved him as much as his had moved me? “I’m glad.”

  “I named her Mack.”

  “Your . . . that car?”

  “I know—right? I think she was my way of keeping you close.”

  I dropped my fork on the table. My throat thickened with emotion. I would have bet my life he meant every word he was saying. What did a woman even say to that? “Wow.”

  “You’re not married, are you?”

  Fighting to regain my composure, I shook my head, picked up my fork, and waved it at him. “I’m not, but my crew would lie for me. I’d say you could test that, but I recently promised not to give out their phone numbers to any more men.”

  “I sense a story . . .”

  Holy shit, he named his car after me.

  Panic set in. It was too much, too soon. I barely believed in love. I definitely didn’t believe something this powerful could be real. I forced sarcasm into my voice and mimicked his words from earlier. “Easy there, tiger. Let’s leave some mystery for our second phone date.” I reminded myself that I was too practical to be swayed by the heat in his gaze. “Show me the rest of this garage of yours. We did say we’d come up with a list of what you need to purchase, but I bet you already have everything you need.”

  “I used to think so,” he said while holding my gaze. “Not anymore.”

  Had he been there, I would have been in his arms. Maybe it would have been a mistake. Maybe not. Either way, I couldn’t have fought the need he lit inside me.

  If the situation frustrated him, it didn’t show in his expression. He smiled again. “What do you know about programming? You could also help me figure out that robotic arm.”

  Yes, that was much safer than discussing how much I wanted to strip off his shirt and lick him from neck to navel. “Did you really name your car after me?”

  “Ask my mother.”

  “Is that your answer to everything?”

  “I’d suggest my father, but lately he’s worse than she is when it comes to trying to marry me off. All sense of boundaries is a thing of the past. My brother met someone, told my father about her, and let’s just say they’re lucky they were able to work it out.”

  “What did he do?”

  For the next several minutes Christof described how Mauricio had gone to Paris to help a friend but ended up meeting Wren and falling in love. Circumstances had separated them, but, according to Christof, anyway, nothing that they wouldn’t have worked out. Unfortunately, Basil Romano, Christof’s father, had hired Wren to inspect their sprinkler system and had lured Mauricio there so they’d see each other again. “Then Mauricio accused Wren of only deciding she wanted to see him again after she found out he had money, and it all went downhill after that.”

  “Oh my God. What an ass.”

  “In that moment, yes, but not in general. And they figured it out. I was there for that explosive moment, so I have ammunition for when Mauricio thinks I’m being a jerk. In that way, I guess, my fath
er did me a favor.”

  “They really worked it out?”

  “They’re married. Happily. They have a start-up company that designs prosthetic arms. Kind of like what I have, I guess, but much, much smaller.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed. Hang on . . . Romano. Romano Superstores?”

  “That’s us.”

  It was a huge store chain and growing. Which meant he was rich. Some might see that as a plus. I met men with money on a regular basis, and it didn’t impress me. Most of them let it give them an inflated sense of importance. “So you work for your family’s company.”

  “You sound disappointed that I might.”

  “I’m not. It makes sense that you would,” I lied. I was disappointed. He came across as someone who made his own way in life, played by his own rules . . . but maybe that was just what he did under the hood of his car. “Do you enjoy it?”

  “I don’t allow myself to feel one way or another about it. I’m who they need me to be. For a while I was in accounting, to make sure our books were solid. As we grew, I maintained the ground floor stuff. Hiring for new stores. Coordinating management. Writing policy. Mauricio stepped down from the company, and Sebastian is hanging closer to home with his new wife. They’re expecting their second child anytime now. So until the dust settles, I’m on the road scouting out potential preexisting stores to partner with.”

  Christof made his role in Romano Superstores sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was a multibillion-dollar company. I had to ask. “Sounds like it doesn’t leave much time for you to follow your own dreams.”

  He shrugged. “Or maybe I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  “Secretly cooking with your mother.” It was an asshole thing to say. I cringed, unsure of why I had gone there. Was it because before he’d entered my life again, I would have said the same thing he had? I didn’t like how being with him made me wonder if there wasn’t more.

  Another man might have been insulted, but Christof simply cocked his head to one side. “Are you giving me shit? On our first date?”

  I could have apologized. Maybe I should have, but I grinned instead. “Hold on—you’re not a first-date shit giver? Christof, you’re too nice for me.”

  His gaze remained warm and steady. “I don’t believe that. I think we were meant to meet again.”

  His words hung there in a heavily sexually charged moment. I wanted this to be real even as a part of me fought against it. Snarky retorts came to me, but I held them back.

  I remembered what Ty had said about me scaring nice men away. What did I want to do . . . spend the rest of my life with men who were so crude Ty felt the need to hunt them down? Christof might be my chance to get it right. I wasn’t sure I was ready for what he represented.

  “If I were there,” he said in a husky tone, “I’d kiss that frown right off your face.”

  Heat seared through me. “I’d let you.”

  We both took a moment to soak that in.

  My phone beeped with a call from Cal. When I didn’t answer, he called back. “I should take this.”

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asked.

  My breath caught in my throat. “What do you have in mind?” In that moment I would have said yes to almost anything.

  “Phone date two?”

  I let out a breath, torn between excitement and disappointment. “Yes. But at seven?”

  “Perfect. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Talk to you then.”

  As the call ended, I saw my face reflected on the screen. I was—glowing.

  I returned Cal’s call and discovered his persistence wasn’t due to an emergency. It wasn’t even related to the car they’d just purchased and were shipping up. No, Cal and Wayne had spoken to Ty and now wanted to hear all about Christof.

  I didn’t know where to begin, so I told them everything.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CAMILLA ROMANO, CHRISTOF’S MOTHER

  High tea with a royal flair and white-glove service was a first for Camilla. The garden with a view of the ocean had small tables that were spread out in a manner that allowed a large group of women to each enjoy an intimate atmosphere. Camilla had grown up on a small farm in Italy, married a man she’d gone to school with, and never yearned for more than time with him and her four children.

  She looked around the table at the newest additions to her family. Heather and little Ava were both smiling and comparing their thoughts on the finger sandwiches. Wren was studying the mechanics of her fancy tea infuser. Knowing that they were enjoying themselves was all that mattered.

  Hers was a better life than she sometimes felt she deserved, but she did what she could to honor it. In the beginning, Basil’s feelings for her had outweighed hers for him. Over the years, though, his gentle, unwavering support had shown her that her original understanding of love was immature. With him, she had a best friend, a caring lover, a protector, a confidant, someone to pick her up when she stumbled and whose happiness had become as important as her own. They were partners in a way she hadn’t thought two people could be, and not a day went by when she wasn’t grateful for all the blessings his love had brought into her life.

  Rather than speaking to the crowd as a whole, the queen of Vandorra was making her way around the garden to meet with each table. She was an older woman, perhaps in her seventies, of diminutive size but large presence. Camilla watched the ladies at a nearby table fawn over their host. They stood at her approach and curtsied.

  Is that mandatory? I wouldn’t even know how.

  I should have asked how to refer to her. I think it’s “Your Royal Highness.”

  Camilla regretted not asking more questions. She hadn’t anticipated actually meeting the hostess. She’d imagined the queen would speak from the front of the room and that would be as close as they’d come to her.

  While Camilla’s thoughts were wandering, Queen Delinda made her way over to their table. “Mrs. Romano, I’m so pleased you decided to attend.”

  Camilla rose to her feet and automatically held out her hand in greeting. “Thank you for the invitation. What a lovely event.”

  As Heather, Ava, and Wren rose to their feet, Camilla realized her faux pas but froze rather than lowering her hand. She wanted her family to be well received and would have bowed, but she was standing too close to the queen. No, it’s a curtsy, not a bow.

  The queen solved the problem by shaking Camilla’s extended hand before turning to Ava. “And who is this?”

  “Ava Romano,” Ava said with a deep curtsy she must have practiced from watching princesses on TV. “I was Ava Ellis, but my mom got married, and now I have a daddy and a new name.”

  “I’m so happy for you,” the queen said graciously. She met Camilla’s gaze and winked before offering her hand to Heather. “And you must be Heather.”

  “I am,” Heather said with confidence as she shook the older woman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The queen’s expression seemed relaxed and warm—this must have been just a regular day for her. She shook the more timid Wren’s hand next. “And Wren.”

  “Yes,” Wren said in a gasp while pumping the queen’s hand. “What a beautiful place to host an event. You chose well.”

  “Thank you,” the queen said. “Since I’ve been in the area, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about your family.”

  Camilla blushed. “That’s very kind to say.”

  Without missing a beat, Queen Delinda said, “I’m not known for that particular characteristic. Honest, yes. Outspoken, often. In fact, Mrs. Romano, there’s a matter I wish to discuss with you if you have a moment.”

  “Of course.” This wasn’t Camilla’s first charity event, and each one was unique, but taking possible donors aside in such a manner was definitely different. “I’ll be right back,” she promised her family and made a comical face before following the queen out of the garden and into the main building.

  In a private sitting room
, Queen Delinda took a seat and instructed Camilla to sit across from her. A man joined them briefly and inquired if there was anything either needed. The queen shooed him away.

  “Now that we’re alone, let’s start again, shall we? You’re the reason I’m in the area, Camilla Romano. I meant what I said about being impressed. You and your family are well respected in your community as well as by those you employ.”

  “Thank you.” Where is this going? Why does this feel like a job interview?

  “I wish I could have met you during more pleasant circumstances.”

  Camilla’s hands went cold. “I’m sorry. I’m not following you.”

  “I’m sure you have your reasons for not wanting Dominic Corisi to be part of your happy little family, but you soon won’t have a choice in the matter. Whatever secrets you’re sitting on, I suggest you start thinking about how you want them revealed, because I fear they soon will be.”

  Camilla stood. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

  Queen Delinda sighed dramatically. “I am many things, but confused is not one of them. Whether you choose to believe it or not, I’m here to help you.”

  Frozen where she was, Camilla fought back a panic attack. She was not a nervous person by nature, but there were things she couldn’t face—things she’d denied for so long she’d convinced herself they weren’t true. Some of the past had the power to unravel her family.

  The queen continued, “I’m too old to offer my assistance to someone twice. So make up your mind. Sit back down, and we’ll discuss what I know is about to happen and how you should address it, or go, and things will play out without my involvement. Just don’t stand there gaping at me; it’s not a good look for either of us.”

  I can’t leave without knowing what she’s referring to. Camilla took a seat again. “What is about to happen?”

  “It appears that Dominic Corisi plans to return to your hometown. He’s bought up enough of your family’s land that he feels he now has the upper hand. I believe you know why.”