Under The Tuscan Sun...: A Bride for the Italian Boss / Return of the Italian Tycoon / Reunited by a Baby Secret. SUSAN MEIER
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into his vehicle, his smile faded. Here he was making her happy, giving her promotions, authority, and just when he should have been able to kiss her to celebrate, he’d had to pull back...because she was taken.
Was he crazy to keep her on, to continually promote her, to need her for his business when it was clear that there was no chance of a relationship between them?
Was he being a sucker?
Was she using him?
Bah! What the hell was he doing? Thinking about things that didn’t matter? The woman was leaving in a few weeks. And that was the real reason he should worry about depending on her. Soon she would be gone. So why were he and Emory leaning on her?
Glad he had more maître d’ interviews scheduled for the following Monday, he started his car and roared out of the parking lot. He would use what he had learned about Dani’s duties for his new maître d’. But he wouldn’t give her any more authority.
And he absolutely would stop all thoughts about wanting to swing her around, kiss her and enjoy their success. It was not “their” success. It was his.
It was also her choice to have no part in it.
* * *
Sunday morning, Dani arrived at the restaurant in a slim cream-colored dress. She had curled her hair and pinned it in a bundle on top of her head. When Rafe saw her his jaw fell.
She looked regal, sophisticated. Perfect as the face of his business.
Emory whistled. “My goodness.”
Rafe’s breath stuttered into his lungs. He reminded himself of his thoughts from the night before. She was leaving. She wanted no part in his long-term success. He and Emory were depending on her too much for someone who had no plans to stay.
But most of all, leaving was her choice.
She didn’t want him or his business in her life. She was here only for some money so she could find the relatives of her foster mother.
The waitresses tittered over how great she looked. Emory walked to the podium, took her hands and kissed both of her cheeks. The busboys blushed every time she was near.
She handled it with a cool grace that spoke of dignity and sophistication. Exactly what he wanted as the face of Mancini’s. As if she’d read his mind.
Laughing with Allegra, she said, “I feel like I’m playing dress up. These are Louisa’s clothes. I don’t own anything so pretty.”
Allegra sighed with appreciation. “Well, they’re perfect for you and your new position.”
She laughed again. “Rafe and Emory only promoted me because I have time on my hands in between customers. While you guys are hustling, I’m sort of looking around, figuring things out.” She leaned in closer. “Besides, the extra authority doesn’t come with more money.”
As Allegra laughed, Rafe realized that was true. Unless Dani was a power junkie, she wasn’t getting anything out of her new position except more work.
So why did she look so joyful in a position she’d be leaving in a few weeks?
Sunday lunch was busier than normal. Customers came in, ate, chatted with Dani and left happy.
Which relieved Rafe and also caused him to internally scold himself for distrusting her. He didn’t know why she’d taken such an interest in his restaurant, but he should be glad she had.
She didn’t leave for the space between the last lunch customer and the first dinner customer because the phone never stopped ringing.
Again, Rafe relaxed a bit. She had good instincts. Now that his restaurant was catching on, there were more dinner reservations. She stayed to take them. She was a good, smart employee. Any mistrust he had toward her had to be residual bad feelings over not being able to pursue her when he so desperately wanted to. His fault. Not hers.
In fact, part of him believed he should apologize. Or maybe not apologize. Since she couldn’t see inside his brain and know the crazy thoughts he’d been thinking, a compliment would work better.
He walked out of the kitchen to the podium and smiled when he saw she was on the phone. Their reservations for that night would probably be their best ever.
“So we’re talking about a hundred people.”
Rafe’s eyebrows rose. A hundred people? He certainly hoped that wasn’t a single reservation for that night. Yes, there was a private room in which he could probably seat a hundred, but because that room was rarely used, those tables and chairs needed to be wiped down. Extra linens would have to be ordered from their vendor. Not to mention enough food. He needed advance warning to serve a hundred people over their normal customer rate.
He calmed himself. She didn’t know that the room hadn’t been used in months and would need a good dusting. Or about the linens. Or the extra food. Once he told her, they could discuss the limits on reservations.
When she finally replaced the receiver on the phone, her blue eyes glowed.
Need rose inside him. Once again he fought the unwanted urge to share the joy of success with her. No matter how he sliced it, she was a big part of building his clientele. And rather than worry about her leaving, a smart businessman would be working to entice her to stay. To make his business her career, and Italy her new home.
Romantic notions quickly replaced his business concerns. If she made Italy her home, she might just leave her fiancé in America, and he could—
Realizing he wasn’t just getting ahead of himself, he was going in the wrong direction, he forced himself to be professional. “It sounds like you got us a huge reservation.”
“Better.”
He frowned. “Better? How does something get better than a hundred guests for dinner?”
She grinned. “By catering a wedding! They don’t even need our dishes and utensils. The venue is providing that. All they want is food. And for you that’s easy.”
Rafe blinked. “What?”
“Okay, it’s like this. A customer came in yesterday. The dinner they chose was what his wife wanted to be served for their daughter’s wedding at the end of the month. When they ate your meal, they knew they wanted you to cook food for their daughter’s wedding. The bride’s dad called, I took down the info,” she said, handing him a little slip. “And now we have a new arm of your business.”
Anything romantic he felt for Dani shrank back against the rising tide of red-hot anger.
“I am not a caterer.”
He controlled his voice, didn’t yell, didn’t pounce. But he saw recognition come to Dani’s eyes. She might have only worked with him almost two weeks, but she knew him.
Her fingers fluttered to her throat. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I have a business plan. I have Michelin stars to protect. I will not send my food out into the world for God knows who to do God knows what with it.”
She swallowed. “You could go to the wedding—”
“And leave the restaurant?”
She sucked in a breath.
“Call them back and tell them you checked with me and we can’t deliver.”
“But... I...” She swallowed again. “They needed a commitment. Today. I gave our word.”
He gaped at her. “You promised something without asking me?” It was the cardinal sin. The unforgivable sin. Promising something that hadn’t been approved because she’d never consulted the boss. Every employee knew that. She hadn’t merely overstepped. She’d gone that one step too far.
Her voice was a mere whisper when she said, “Yes.”
Anger mixed with incredulity