The Playboy of Rome. Jennifer Faye
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placed some euros in her hand. His fingers were warm as the backs of his fingers brushed over her palm, causing her stomach to quiver. She quickly pulled her hand away.
“Thank you so much. You truly were a lifesaver.” He moved to the door to let her out.
She didn’t follow him. She wasn’t done here. Not by a long shot. “I’m not leaving. Not yet.”
Dante shot her a puzzled look. “If this is about the money, this is the amount I told Luigi I was willing to pay—”
Lizzie shook her head. “It’s not that. I came here to meet with Chef Massimo.”
“You did? You mean Luigi didn’t send you?”
“I don’t know any Luigi.”
Dante reached in his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. A few keystrokes later, he glanced up. “My mistake. Luigi wasn’t able to find anyone to help out. Thank goodness you showed up.”
“And I was happy to help. Now if you could introduce me to Chef Massimo.”
Dante’s forehead creased. “That’s not going to happen.” His tone was firm and unbendable. “He’s not here. You’ll have to deal with me.”
“I don’t think so. I’ll wait for him.”
Dante rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “You’ll be waiting a long time. Chef Massimo is out of town.”
“Listen, I know I’m here a couple of days ahead of time, but we do have an agreement to meet.”
“That’s impossible.” Dante’s shoulders straightened and his expression grew serious. “I would have known. I know about everything that has to do with this place.”
“Obviously not in this case.” Lizzie pressed her lips together, immediately regretting her outburst. She was tired after her long flight and then having to work all evening as a hostess.
“You’re obviously mixed up. You should be going.” He pulled open the front door, letting a cool evening breeze sweep inside and wrap around her.
She couldn’t leave. Her whole future was riding on this internship, and the money from participating in the upcoming cooking show would pay for her sister’s grad school. She couldn’t let her down. She’d promised Jules that if she got accepted to graduate school she’d make sure there was money for the tuition. Jules had already had so many setbacks in her life that Lizzie refused to fail her.
She stepped up to Dante, and even though she was wearing heeled boots, she still had to tilt her chin upward to look him in the eyes. “I did you a big favor tonight. The least you can do is hear me out.”
Dante let the door swing shut and led her back to the dining room, where he pulled out a chair for her before he took a seat across the table. “I’m listening.”
Lizzie wished it wasn’t so late in the evening. Dante looked wiped out, not exactly the optimal position to gain his understanding. Still, she didn’t have any other place to go.
Her elbows pressed down on the white linen tablecloth as she folded her hands together. “Chef Massimo has agreed to mentor me.”
Dante’s gaze narrowed in on her. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”
“Why should you know about it? My agreement isn’t with you.”
“Massimo Bianco is my maternal grandfather. And with him away, I’m running this place.”
This man wasn’t about to give an inch, at least not easily. “When will he return so we can straighten things out?”
Dante leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. His dark eyes studied her. She’d love to know what he was thinking. Then again, maybe not. The past couple of days had been nothing but a blur. She’d rushed to wrap up her affairs in New York City before catching a transatlantic flight. The last thing she’d wanted to do was play hostess, but she figured she’d be a good sport. After all, Dante seemed to be in a really tight spot. But now she didn’t understand why he was being so closemouthed about Massimo.
“All you need to know is that my grandfather won’t be returning. So any business you have with him, you’ll have to deal with me. Tell me about this agreement.”
Uneasiness crept down her spine. This man had disbelief written all over his handsome features. But what choice did she have but to deal with him since she had absolutely no idea how to contact Chef Massimo? The only phone number she had was for this restaurant. And the email had also been for the restaurant.
“The agreement is for him to mentor me for the next two months.”
Dante shook his head. “It isn’t going to happen. I’m sorry you traveled all of this way for nothing. But you’ll have to leave now.”
Lizzie hadn’t flown halfway around the globe just to be turned away—she’d been rejected too many times in her life. Her reasons for being here ran deeper than appearing on the television show. She truly wanted to learn from the best and Massimo Bianco was a renowned chef, whose name on her résumé would carry a lot of weight in the culinary world.
“Surely you could use the extra help.” After what she’d witnessed this evening, she had no doubt about it.
“If not for this virus going around, Massimo’s would be fully staffed. We don’t have room for someone else in the kitchen.”
“Obviously Chef Bianco doesn’t agree with your assessment. He assured me there would be a spot for me.”
Dante’s eyes darkened. “He was mistaken. And now that I’ve heard you out, I must insist that you leave.”
These days she proceeded cautiously and was always prepared. She reached in her oversize purse and pulled out the signed document. “You can’t turn me away.”
When she held out a copy of the contract, Dante’s dark brows rose. Suddenly he didn’t look as in charge as he had just a few seconds ago. Funny how a binding legal document could change things so quickly.
When he reached for the papers, their fingers brushed. His skin was warm and surprisingly smooth. Their gazes met and held. His eyes were dark and mysterious. Instead of being intimidated by him, she was drawn to him.
Not that she was in Italy to have a summer romance. She had a job to do and this man was standing between her and her future. He may be stubborn, but he’d just met his match.
WHAT WAS IT about this woman that had him feeling off-kilter?
Could it be the way her touch sent currents of awareness up his arm? Realizing they were still touching, Dante jerked his hand away. He clenched his fingers, creasing the hefty document.
Or maybe it was those cool blue eyes of hers that seemed to study his every move. It was as though she could see more of him than he cared for anyone to observe. Not that he had any secrets to hide—well, other than his plans to sell the ristorante.
His gaze scrolled over the first lines of the document, pausing when he saw his grandfather’s name followed by Ristorante Massimo. He continued skimming over the legalese until his gaze screeched to a halt at the mention of a television show. His gut twisted into a knot. This was much more involved than he’d ever imagined.
“You said this was for an internship. You didn’t mention anything about a television show.”
Her lips moved but nothing came out. It was as though she wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. If she thought he was going to make this easy for her, she’d have to think again. She’d tried to get him to agree to let her work here under false pretenses when in fact she had much bigger plans.
When she didn’t respond fast enough, he added, “How long were you planning to keep that little bit of information