Walk On The Wild Side. Donna Kauffman
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you.”
He turned to face her. “For what?”
“Giving me a chance,” she said sincerely. “I know you don’t understand why this is important to me, but I promise I won’t make you any sorrier than you already are for letting Mama Bennie talk you into this.”
His stiff posture relaxed a fraction. “It won’t be the last time I do something foolish because she wants me to.”
“I’ll make Mama Bennie proud.” And you, she thought, then rapidly backtracked. What he thought of her wasn’t important. “You’re lucky to have a grandmother who loves you so much.”
He looked at her. “You say that as if you don’t have the same. Your grandmother would be…” He paused, then said, “Frances. Frances Chandler.” He laughed. “Don’t look so startled. I may not have the fancy degree, but I do read the papers.”
Sunny wished she hadn’t guided the conversation in such a personal direction. She smoothed another loose strand of hair and sat up straighter. Her lower back screamed in protest. She ignored it. Chandlers never let the opposition see their weaknesses. “My grandparents love me very much. It’s just…well, they show it in a different way than yours.”
She stood as a discouragement to further conversation, then swallowed a groan when the arches of her feet relaxed against the wood floor. No way was she going to be able to get into the heels she’d been wearing. Maybe ever. She’d have to fake it across the back alley to her—
Car. She had no car. And at one in the morning, getting a cab in this neighborhood wasn’t going to be easy. “Can I use the office phone? It’s a local call.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then relented, sweeping his arm in front of him. “After you.”
It took all her waning willpower to walk down the hall in front of him without limping. “I’ll get my things from my locker.”
“I’d rather you make your call first, so I can get back to work.”
She nodded, too busy trying to figure out where she was going to sleep tonight to argue. One thing she couldn’t argue was that, for all Nick demanded a lot of his employees, he appeared to work just as hard, if not harder.
He opened the door and ushered her in, flipping on the light as he passed her. She looked around Nick’s cramped office. An antique oak desk piled high with papers, books and file folders dominated the room. The walls were covered with pictures of Nick with family and friends as well as with some local and national celebrities. There were also a couple pictures of an older man who could have been his father or his grandfather.
“Salvatore D’Angelo,” he said, apparently catching her interest. “My grandfather. Bennie’s husband. He came over from Italy when he was only twenty. Started this restaurant before he turned thirty. He passed away five years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I bet he and Bennie made a great team.”
Nick came to stand just behind her. He was silent, which was good, since somehow there was less air in the room than moments before.
She was about to move away when he spoke. “Papa Sal understood people. He knew everyone in this neighborhood by name. He knew when someone was going through a tough time, and he knew before anyone else when a wedding was going to take place. Everyone sought him out for advice. He never turned anyone away. He treated the well known like they were from the neighborhood and the neighborhood people like they were stars. We all miss him terribly.”
His softly spoken words made her eyes burn. “Being that well-loved is a wonderful reward for a life well lived,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll live a long time in the hearts of those who knew him.”
“He’d have probably liked you.” She stilled when Nick’s hand landed on her shoulder. Just as quickly, he dropped it. “He was a good one for bucking traditions. He liked to make people reexamine their preconceptions.”
Feeling oddly exposed, she slid from between him and the wall and faced him. “It must be hard,” she said, “feeling like you have to fill his shoes.” She realized then that they had something in common. The burden of following in their family’s footsteps.
“It’s a challenge, but one I won’t ever walk away from. My parents died when we were kids. Sal and Bennie raised all of us, but as the oldest, I knew I would run D’Angelo’s. Sal saw to it that I was as ready as I could be before he left us.” He eyed her deliberately, and she figured Mama Bennie had told him her story.
Well, fine. She was too tired to argue. Let him think what he wanted about her. He didn’t look away, and neither, she discovered, could she. Despite her fatigue and the distraction of her other problems, she felt energy fairly radiating from him. It made her thinly stretched nerves fray a little bit more. There was no denying the man had sex appeal in spades. And then there was his voice. When he talked passionately, as he had moments ago, all sorts of inappropriate things she’d like to hear him say in that same intimate voice sprung to her mind. On top of everything else, sexual tension had no place in her life.
She broke eye contact and turned toward the desk, intent on finding the phone. She caught sight of herself in a small antique mirror tucked in among the pictures and almost laughed. She looked like a raccoon that had run a marathon. And come in last. Mascara ringed her eyes, her hair was damp and stringy, and her skin was pasty. Except for two pink spots on her cheek and a red nose. From the steam, most likely.
Oh, yeah, sexual tension was going to be a big problem. Not. And he thought she got by on her good looks. Ha!
“I guess I should make that call,” she said. It was definitely time to get out of here and go home. Wherever home was going to be tonight. She wasn’t going to Haddon Hall. A fancy suite at the Drake wasn’t right, either. She’d spent the day as a working girl. She should sleep like one, too. But that left her where?
“Here.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice just behind her. She turned to find him holding the phone. “Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to your call.”
The heat dropped twenty degrees the instant he shut the door behind him. At least it felt that way. She rested limply against his desk, staring at the phone but thinking about her new boss. There was no denying that he intrigued her. Tough enough to run a successful restaurant, soft enough to let his grandmother walk all over him.
The phone began to beep at her, and she jerked her thoughts to the problem at hand. She pressed the reset button and dialed information. After calling for a cab, she ran down a mental list of possibilities. They were dismally few and generally revolved around her platinum card. The friends she’d made at school were not close. Even if she felt comfortable enough to confide in any of them, which she didn’t, there wasn’t one of them she’d call at this hour of the morning.
A door banged in the hallway. Seconds later a taller, skinnier and somewhat younger version of Nick D’Angelo filled the doorway. He wore ratty black jeans that molded indecently to his long legs, an almost equally ratty T-shirt and a leather jacket.
“Now this is a nice if unexpected surprise,” he said. “I was beginning to think old Niccolo was going monkish on me. So, who are you and why is my brother keeping you trapped in his office? I could rescue you, if you like.” He extended his hand. “Joey D’Angelo, knight in black leather.” His grin was infectious.
Suddenly Sunny didn’t feel quite so exhausted. What was it about D’Angelo men, anyway? She laughed. “I’m afraid my steed is already on its way. But thanks for the kind offer.” She shook his hand.
He held on to her and bowed deeply. “Anytime, fair maiden.” After pressing a warm kiss on the back of her hand, he released her and straightened. “And your name? My big brother doesn’t ever get around to introducing most of his dates to the family. He has some strange idea that we scare the ladies off. Go figure.”
“I’m