Marie Ferrarella - An Engagement For Two

“Heaven forbid,” Nikki cried. Then, in a more subdued voice, she asked, “Will you let me know who you pick out?”

Maizie smiled mysteriously. She knew it would be for the best if her daughter remained in the dark until the proper meeting was arranged and pulled off.

“Oh, darling, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Maizie told her daughter with a wink.

Chapter One

“There’s someone to see you, Mrs. Manetti.”

Melinda Jacobsen’s announcement as she peered into Theresa’s back office was accompanied by a giggle best suited to the teenager she’d been eight years ago when she had first come to work for Theresa’s catering company in an apprentice capacity.

Theresa jotted down a last-minute thought about a menu she was creating in her notebook and then looked up.

“Bring her in, Melinda,” Theresa told the young woman whom she’d eventually placed in charge of baked goods.

Hearing Melinda giggle again, Theresa wondered what had come over her. Melinda was usually very levelheaded.

“It’s a he.” This time the giggle came before the words, further arousing Theresa’s curiosity.

In less than ten seconds, her curiosity was laid to rest. Jeff Sabatino stepped around Melinda and entered the small, crowded office where she took her calls and created the menus that made her catering business such a prosperous success.

As if reading her mind, the young woman reluctantly left the room before Theresa could ask her to leave.

The tall, broad-shouldered man with thick, slightly unruly dark hair smiled at his former boss. “Hello, Mrs. Manetti. I hope you don’t mind my stopping by without calling first.”

Jeff had gotten his start with Theresa’s catering business before branching out and opening his own restaurant a handful of years ago. Theresa had been one of his first customers and was proud of his success. She had always thought of him as a protégé.

“Of course I don’t mind. And Jeff, you own your own restaurant, and I saw that you’ve been getting some really stunning reviews lately. I think you can call me Theresa now,” she told him warmly. Theresa gestured toward the two chairs that were facing her desk, the ones where clients usually sat when they came to engage her services. “Please, sit.”

“That’s all right,” Jeff told her. “I’m not staying long.”

“Looking to buy me out?” Theresa asked with a trace of amusement. She knew that wasn’t the case, but Jeff appeared way too serious for this to be strictly a social call. “Or are you here because you need help—because your restaurant is doing so well, you find that you just can’t keep up with the demand?”

“Neither,” Jeff answered, “although I’ll never forget the debt I owe you. I would have been nothing more than a short-order cook if it hadn’t been for what you taught me.”

Theresa thought back to when he’d first walked into her establishment, a very handsome, very nervous young man with a great deal of promise. The memory warmed her heart and made her smile.

“Ah, but you had the potential to do so much more than that, and you wanted to learn. Desire is something I can’t teach, Jeff. Everything else, I can.” She assessed him more closely as she stood. She saw worry in his light green eyes. “This isn’t a social call, is it, Jeff?”

“Not exactly,” Jeff confessed.

Theresa made her way behind him to the door of her office and closed it. She had a feeling her former protégé would prefer privacy.

Turning around to face him, she said, “I’m listening.”

Now that he was here, Jeff wasn’t sure how to start. He wasn’t in the habit of asking for favors, especially not from the woman he credited with giving him not only his start, but also the push to open his own restaurant—not to mention that she had also lent him the money to get started.

He’d paid off the latter, but in his heart, he would forever be in Theresa Manetti’s debt. Which made coming here, hat in hand, rather awkward for him.

But this wasn’t for him, Jeff reminded himself. It was for his mother. Thinking of that now, he pushed on. “I remember that you once said one of your close friends has a daughter who’s a doctor.”

“I might have mentioned it,” Theresa recalled. “And if I did, I was talking about Maizie. Her daughter, Nikki, is a doctor.” A slight note of confusion entered her voice. “But Nikki’s a pediatrician and I don’t imagine that you’re looking for a baby doctor—are you?” she asked suddenly, looking at him in surprise.

It had been a while since she’d been in contact with Jeff, and although she would have liked to think he would have gotten in touch to tell her if he was getting married, she really had no guarantee of that. After all, he was a very busy young man these days.

“No,” Jeff quickly answered. “But your friend’s daughter does interact with other doctors, doesn’t she?” he asked. “At the hospital, I mean.”

She wasn’t accustomed to seeing Jeff this unsure of himself, not since he’d first come to work for her. She tried to set him at ease.

“Nikki’s a very friendly young woman, so yes, I’m sure she does. What’s this all about, Jeff? Are you ill?” she asked, displaying a deeply ingrained mother’s sense of concern.

He suddenly realized how he had to be coming across. “Oh, no, not me—”

“Your wife, then?” she asked, watching his face to see if she’d guessed correctly.

“No, no wife. No time,” Jeff added, then told her, “You know I’d never get married without inviting you, Mrs. Man—Theresa,” he corrected before she could. “You’re like a second mother to me.” He sighed. “Which brings me to my first mother.”

“Your mother’s ill?” Theresa asked, recalling how supportive the woman had been of her son when he’d first opened his restaurant, Dinner for Two. “What’s wrong, Jeff?”

“That’s why I need the name of a good doctor—preferably one with a really good bedside manner about him—or her,” he added quickly. “Actually, I think my mother would prefer a her,” he told Theresa. “As for me, I’d just prefer a good doctor.”

“When was the last time your mother saw a doctor?” Theresa asked, curious.

He really didn’t have to stop to think. He knew. His mother avoided doctors as if they carried the plague in their pocket. “When she gave birth to my sister. Tina’s twenty-nine now,” he added.

That was really hard to believe. “You’re kidding,” Theresa said.

“No, I’m not,” he said honestly. “My mother doesn’t trust doctors. A doctor misdiagnosed my father’s condition until it was too late to save him.” It had happened twenty-five years ago. At the age of ten, he’d suddenly been the man of the family. “He died.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Theresa said with genuine sympathy. “But that doesn’t mean all doctors are like that.”

He blew out a breath, feeling very weary all of a sudden. “I know that, but my mother, well, it’s hard to win an argument with her. However, she’s getting weaker and I just might be able to bully her into it—if I can find a competent, sympathetic doctor to take my mother to.”

“Which is where I come in,” Theresa concluded.

Jeff nodded. “Could you put me in contact with your friend’s daughter? Or have your friend’s daughter recommend someone to you? I don’t care how it’s done,” he told her, feeling just a little desperate, as if he was fighting the clock.

He had no idea just how serious his mother’s condition was, but she’d been in pain recently. A lot of pain. “I just need it done. I’ll take my mother to see this doctor on your say-so. My mom’s only sixty-five, Theresa, and she has a lot of life left—as long as I can get her to see reason and get treatment for whatever it is that’s making her feel so weak and ill.”