Under The Tuscan Sun.... Michelle Douglas
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Daniella.
When the lunch crowd cleared, he walked into the empty, quiet dining room.
Dani smiled as he approached. “You’re not going to yell at me for not going home and costing you two hours’ wages are you?”
“You are management now. I expect you here every hour the restaurant is open.”
“Except my days off.”
He groaned. “Except your days off. If you feel comfortable not being here two days every week, I am fine with it. But if something goes wrong, you will answer for it.”
She laughed. “Whatever. I’ve been coaching Allegra. She’ll be much better from here on out. No more catastrophes while I’m gone.”
“Great. I’ve lined up three appointments for us tomorrow.”
She turned from the podium. “With vendors?”
“With my friend who is a real estate agent.”
“I told you we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”
“Our market is tight. You must be on top of things to get a good place.”
“I haven’t—”
He interrupted her. “You haven’t decided you’re staying. I get that. But if you choose to stay, I don’t want you panicking. Getting ahead of a problem is how a smart businessperson staves off disaster.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Good. Tomorrow morning, Emory will take over lunch prep while you and I apartment hunt. We can be back for dinner.”
* * *
Sun poured in through the huge window of the kitchen of the first unit Maria Salvetti showed Rafe and Dani the next morning. Unfortunately, cold air flowed in through the cracks between the window and the wall.
Dani eased her eyes away from the unwanted ventilation and watched as Rafe walked across a worn hardwood floor, his motorcycle boots clicking along, his jeans outlining an absolutely perfect behind and his black leather jacket, collar flipped up, giving him the look of a dangerous rebel.
For the second time that morning, she told herself she was grateful he’d been honest with her about his inability to commit. She didn’t know a woman who wouldn’t fall victim to his steel-gray eyes and his muscled body. She had to be strong. And her decision to stay at Mancini’s had to be made for all the right reasons.
She faced Maria. “I’d have to fix this myself?”
“Sì. It is for sale. It is not a rental.”
She turned to Rafe. “I wouldn’t have time to work twelve-hour days and be my own general contractor.”
“You could hire someone.”
She winced as she ran her hand along the crack between the wall and window. “Oh, yeah? Just how big is my raise going to be?”
“Big enough.”
She shook her head. “I still don’t like it.”
She also didn’t like the second condo. She did have warm, fuzzy feelings for the old farmhouse a few miles away from the village, but that needed more work than the first condo she’d seen.
Maria’s smile dipped a notch every time Dani rejected a prospective home. She’d tried to explain that she wasn’t even sure she was staying in Italy, but Maria kept plugging along.
After Dani rejected the final option, Maria shook Rafe’s hand, then Dani’s and said, “I’ll check our listings again and get back to you.”
She slid into her car and Dani sighed, glad to be rid of her. Not that Maria wasn’t nice, but with her decision about staying in Italy up in the air, looking for somewhere to live seemed premature. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize quite yet.” He pulled his cell phone from his jacket and dialed a number. “Carlo, this is Rafe. Could you have a key for the empty condo at the front desk? Grazie.” He slipped his phone into his jacket again.
She frowned at him. “You have a place to show me?”
He headed for his SUV, motioning for her to follow him. “Actually, I thought Maria would have taken you to his apartment first. It’s a newly renovated condo in my building.”
She stopped walking. “Your building?” She might be smart enough to realize she and Rafe were a bad bet, but all along she’d acknowledged that their spending too much time together was tempting fate. Now he wanted them to live in the same building?
“After Emory, you are my most valued employee. A huge part of Mancini’s success. We need to be available for each other. Plus, there would be two floors between us. It’s not like we’d even run into each other.”
She still hesitated. “Your building’s that big?”
“No. I value my privacy that much.” He sighed. “Seriously. Just come with me to see the place and you will understand.”
Dani glanced around as she entered the renovated old building, Rafe behind her. Black-and-white block tiles were accented by red sofas and chairs in a lounge area of the lobby. The desk for the doorman sat discreetly in a corner.
Leaning over her shoulder, Rafe said, “My home is the penthouse.”
His warm breath tickled her ear and desire poured through her. She almost turned and yelled at him for flirting with her. Instead, she squelched the feeling. He probably wasn’t flirting with her. This was just who he was. Gorgeous. Sinfully sexy. And naturally flirtatious. If she really intended to stay in Italy and work for him, she had to get accustomed to him. As she’d realized after she’d spoken to Paul, she would need discipline and common sense to keep her sanity.
He pointed at the side-by-side elevators. “I don’t use those, and you can’t use them to get to my apartment.”
His breath tiptoed to her neck and trickled down her spine. Still, she kept her expression neutral when she turned and put them face-to-face, so close she could see the little flecks of silver in his eyes.
Just as her reactions couldn’t matter, how he looked—his sexy face, his smoky eyes—also had to be irrelevant. If she didn’t put all this into perspective now, this temptation could rule her life. Or ruin her life.
She gave him her most professional smile. “And I’d be a few floors away?”
“Not just a few floors, but also a locked elevator.”
Dangling the apartment key, he motioned for her to enter the elevator when it arrived. They rode up in silence. He unlocked the door to the available unit and she gasped.
“Oh, my God.” She spun to face him. “I can afford this?”
He laughed. “Yes.”
From the look of the lobby, she’d expected the apartment to be ultramodern. The kind of place she would have killed to have in New York. Black-and-white. Sharp, but sterile. Something cool and sophisticated for her and distant Paul.
But warm beiges and yellows covered these walls. The kitchen area was cozy, with a granite-topped breakfast bar where she could put three stools.
She saw it filled with people. Louisa. Coworkers from Mancini’s. And neighbors she’d meet who could become like a family.
She caught that thought before it could take root. Something about Italy always caused her to see things through rose-colored glasses, and if she didn’t stop, she was going to end up making this choice before she knew for certain that she could work with Rafe as a friend or a business associate, and forget about trying for anything more.
She turned to Rafe again. “Don’t make me want something I can’t have.”
“I already told you that you can afford it.”
“I