AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With little other choice, I let him inside. As if I don’t already know that being alone with Tristano DeLuca is a recipe for disaster. I’m weak. Plain and simple.
I want him. And no amount of logic will stop that fact.
Is it logical to want to jump headfirst into a torrid affair with my biggest competitor? No. But there you go. Even the fact that he and I are gunning for the very same award that could put one of us—not both, mind you—on the map . . . nope. Doesn’t seem to matter.
“I was just thinking of a line fromStar Trek,” I say, stepping aside as he and his trail of yummy scent wafts by me.
The door closes behind him.
“So you’re a Trekker?”
“No.” I gesture for him to sit, and promptly escape to the other side of the bar. “My ex was. We used to argue aboutStar TrekversusStar Wars.”
“Ahh, my kind of girl.”
Even though it’s just an expression, his words wiggle their way inside of me. “So you’re aStar Warsfan?”
“Not as much as my brother Enzo, but I like the movies. Or most of them, anyway.”
“Drink?” I ask, seeing as we’re at a bar.
“You having one?”
I push my clipboard to the side. “I was just finishing up inventory, but yeah, I’m just about done for the day.”
“Your bar manager doesn’t do that?” He leans his elbows on the bar, fingers folding together. Even his hands are sexy.
“He usually does, but we were all so busy with Festa, and then his son got sick this morning . . . it’s been nuts. All hands on deck.”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to own a bigger place, where I could focus on the menu and running the business and let other people do the rest.”
I lean against the back bar. “Even then, no one will run the place like you. I had the chance to talk to the owner of Il Piacere a few times, and with a staff three times bigger than ours,” I smile, “he could still be found doing inventory or running trainings. Not often, but when needed. What do you want to drink?”
“I’ll take whatever you’re having.”
He watches as I begin to grab bottles.
“I was downtown and walked by,” he says by way of explanation. I wondered if he came specifically to see me. Of course, he wouldn’t have known if I was here.
“If you need me, this is pretty much where I live.”
It was meant as an offhand comment, but he’s looking at me like there could be more to it than that. Which, of course, is entirely possible.
“You’re here seven days a week.”
It’s a statement, not a question.
“It’s fine.” I push the negroni in front of him—one of our aperitivo specialties. “I like to be distracted.”
“From what?” Tris immediately apologizes before I can react. “I’m sorry. Of course . . .”
“It’s fine.” I stop him, raising my glass. “It’s more than just my dad. School and work have always been my life. Maybe just as much now as ever.”
“Salute.”
“Salute.”
Four times drinking together. Two dances. One incredible kiss. And not one single actual date. As it should be, I guess.
