Rebecca Winters - The Vineyards Of Calanetti

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 at her presumptuousness, and he didn’t hesitate. With his dream in danger, he didn’t even have to think about it. “You’re fired.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“LEAVE NOW.”

Dani’s breaths came in quick, shallow puffs. No one wanted to be fired. But right at that moment she wasn’t concerned about her loss. Her real upset came from failing Rafe. She’d thought he’d be happy with the added exposure. Instead, she’d totally misinterpreted the situation. Contrary to her success in the dining room, she wasn’t a chef. She didn’t know a chef’s concerns. She had no real restaurant experience.

Still, she had instincts—

Didn’t she?

“I’ll fix this.”

He turned away. “This isn’t about fixing the problem. This is about you truly overstepping this time. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve had personal conversations or because to this point all of your ideas have been good. But no one, absolutely no one, makes such an important decision without my input. You are fired.”

He walked into the kitchen without looking back. Dani could have followed him, maybe even should have followed him, but the way he walked away hurt so much she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Not because she’d angered him over a mistake, but because he was so cool. So distant. So deliberate and so sure that he wanted her gone. As if their evenings at the tavern hadn’t happened, as if all those stolen moments—that kiss—had meant nothing, he was tossing her out of his life.

Tears stung her eyes. The pain that gripped her hurt like a physical ache.

But common sense weaved its way into her thoughts. Why was she taking this personally? She didn’t love him. She barely knew him. She had a fiancé—almost. A guy who might not be romantic, but who was certainly stable. She’d be going home in a little over two weeks. There could be nothing between her and Rafe. He was passion wrapped in electricity. Moody. Talented. Sweet but intense. Too sexy for his own good—or hers. And they weren’t supposed to be attracted to each other, but they were.

Staying at Mancini’s had been like tempting fate. Teasing both of them with something they couldn’t have. Making them tense, and him moody. Hot one minute and cold the next.

So maybe it really was time to go?

She slammed the stack of menus into their shelf of the podium, grabbed her purse and raced out.

When she arrived at the villa, Louisa was on a ladder, staring at the watermarks as if she could divine how they got there.

“What are you doing home?”

Dani yanked the pins holding up her short curls and let them fall to her chin, as she kicked off Louisa’s high, high heels.

“I was fired.”

Louisa climbed off the ladder. “What?” She shook her head. “He told you to dress like the authority in the dining room and you were gorgeous. How could he not like how you looked?”

“Oh, I think he liked how I looked.” Dani sucked in a breath, fully aware now that that was the problem. They were playing with fire. They liked each other. But neither of them wanted to. And she was done with it.

“Come to Rome with me.”

“You’re not going to try to get your job back?”

“It just all fell into place in my head. Rafe and I are attracted, but my boyfriend asked me to marry him. Though I didn’t accept, I can’t really be flirting with another guy. So Rafe—”