Chapter 12 #2
“Your restaurant?” she asked, her eyes closing as she breathed in his scent.
She’d never thought she’d be a woman who loved cuddling, yet here she was utterly content to never move again so long as Angelo had his arms around her.
The comforting reassured her and stirred little butterflies in her belly whenever his lips strayed across her forehead or the crown of her hair.
“Uh huh,” he murmured and kissed the top of her head.
“Can you play my fiancée in front of my employees? I’m sure my uncle knows I’m engaged by now because I can’t imagine my dad not telling him.
He wouldn’t tell anyone else without hearing from me that it was okay.
” His tone was teasing but the look he gave her was serious.
“You really think I should?” She lifted her head up to stare at him. “What if everyone is upset later when… when we break up?”
“I want to show you my world. If I bring in some random woman, it would raise more questions than if I brought in my fiancée. I don’t let just anyone into my kitchens.” He winked. “Who cares what they think, whatever happens between us. It only matters to you and me.”
She considered his offer seriously and decided she really would like to see the place that made him so happy, the place where he felt he belonged.
“I would love to see it. Your family told me so much about it. Your parents and your brother are so proud of you, you know.” She’d heard so much praise for Angelo’s talent and hard work while he was in the hospital.
“Oh? They did?”
“Yes. They think that what you have accomplished is incredible.”
This time it was Angelo’s face that darkened with a blush. He must not hear compliments like that enough she realized.
“That’s nice to hear,” he admitted honestly, his voice a little rough with emotion.
He cleared his throat, bent and grabbed the handles of her book basket and headed to the cashier.
After they finished buying her books they headed to his restaurant.
The Italian Village was like nothing Kara had ever seen before.
The walls of the entire restaurant were painted to look like a rolling countryside and the exteriors of an Italian village.
Lights had been wired behind painted windows to illuminate the dim restaurant, as though a customer was walking into a village square on a summer evening.
Some of the windows even had curtains, drapes or window boxes full with real flowers.
It looked like they were almost on a movie set but the space was full of tables and booths.
Dinner was just starting to be served as Angelo led her pass the hostess stand.
“Candace,” Angelo greeted.
“Mr. Vertucci!” Candace left her stand come over. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” Angelo replied. Then he grasped Kara’s hand. “Candace, this is Kara my fiancée. I want to show her the kitchens.”
“Y—your fiancée?” Candace started at the words her face turning red as she glanced at Kara.
“Nice to meet you, Candace,” Kara said. She could tell the young woman had a crush on Angelo, and it was equally clear that Angelo had no idea.
“It’s really great to meet you, Kara!” Candace offered her genuine smile before she turned to Angelo. “Your uncle is in the kitchens,” Candace said.
“Thank you.” Angelo led her through the restaurant toward a pair of metal doors at the back.
They stepped into a massive kitchen space with metal countertops and stoves with at least a dozen men and women in white aprons preparing meals.
Exquisite aromas carried through the air to tease Kara’s nose.
So this was Angelo’s world. Fresh herbs hung from special racks and a cook nearby was placing basil leaves into big stew pot.
The room was hot, perhaps too hot, she guessed if she had to linger near the stoves.
Everyone moved quickly, expertly, but the bustling environment was intense, one step away from chaos.
Yet it worked magnificently from what she could tell.
“My famous tomato basil soup,” Angelo said to Kara as they both watched the cook stirring the leaves in the soup.
“It smells amazing,” Kara slid closer to Angelo, her hand tightening around his.
“Angelo!” A booming voice cut across the kitchens making all of the cooks look up and find Angelo.
They were suddenly surrounded by kitchen staff in an instant and everyone was talking at once. A man who looked so much like Matteo was at the center of the greeting crowd.
“Zio,” Angelo released Kara’s hand only briefly to hug his uncle.
Zio, Kara had learned was Italian for uncle. It had been used many times teasingly by Angelo’s family at Christmas.
“Everyone, this is Kara,” his throat tightened. “My fiancée.”
The word fiancée rippled through the cooking crowd with clear surprise.
“Congratulations, Mr. Vertucci,” one of the cooks said as he smiled warmly at Kara and his boss.
“I heard you were engaged, but I told Matteo I wouldn’t believe it until I see it and here you are!
” Angelo’s uncle’s jovial laugh drew grins from everyone around them.
“It’s about time you settled down.” Kara was swept up in a hug by Uncle Luigi which made her laugh despite her nerves, before he set her down on her feet again.
“Zio Luigi, this is my Kara.”
Luigi’s brown eyes were warm and light in color like Angelo’s, and his smile was so bright it lit up the room.
“So, you finally found your own principessa, eh?” Luigi asked.
Angelo tried to hide a bashful look, but Kara saw it. She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Is this where you get your principessa fixation from?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Maybe, I’ve never really thought about it.” He kissed her temple and turned to Luigi. “Walk me through the banquet menu for the literary gala.”
“Sure.” Luigi turned businesslike, and Kara stepped back to watch Angelo and his uncle get down to business.
The kitchen seemed to come alive with Angelo’s presence.
He tasted the sauces, examined cooking meat on the grill, offered his advice on the presentation of a few dishes, and then studied the cream-colored looking menu for the gala.
Luigi spoke to him for several minutes and they made some adjustments to the menu before Angelo came back to where she stood at the edge of the kitchens.
He flashed her a rueful smile. “Sorry about taking so long. I just wanted to check with him about the gala banquet dinner.”
“It’s fine,” Kara assured him as held up a bowl of dark chocolate gelato one of the cooks had given her while Angelo was busy.
“I really liked seeing you work. This place is so impressive. And this… is to die for.” She licked the last of her gelato from her spoon, and Angelo’s gaze heated as he watched her.
Then he cleared his throat and his gaze lifted to her own.
“I’m glad you like it. This is my second home. And that,” he nodded at the empty gelato bowl, “is everyone’s favorite dessert.”
His comfort in the space and his commanding presence in his kitchen group made it so clear he was a natural chef.
“That’s wonderful though, to know where you belong, to fit into this world so easily.
” She would have given anything in that moment to have a place that felt like hers, a place where she could do something in the world, create something, build something, or contribute to the world in a meaningful way.
Angelo who’d been standing shoulder to shoulder beside her, now turned his back on the kitchen as he focused fully on her.
His warm brown eyes held hers for a long moment.
“It wasn’t easy in the beginning. I went to a private school, sure—I knew a lot of people in good positions that could help, but convincing anyone to invest in a more traditional Italian restaurant in Chicago, where the deep dish pizza reigns supreme, it was a tough market.
I fought for every inch of it. I focused on my values and building it from the ground up—good ingredients, good atmosphere, charity, family.
It was worth it because I built my place here, brick by brick, pasta dish by pasta dish.
I had to fight for everything. I had to build my place here. ”
Kara could hear what he was trying to say. Build a place where you want to belong. Make it your home.
She thought of her own job at the little street corner bodega. Her boss was a decent man. She’d called him after Angelo got shot. He’d given her two weeks off, unpaid of course, but she’d still have a job to go back to. If she stayed.
When they’d finished chatting with most of the cooks in the kitchens, it was time to leave. They passed the dining area. Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck rose. She halted, tensed and Angelo ran into her from behind. He lightly grasped her shoulders.
“Kara?” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”
She scanned the dimly lit restaurant, her eyes focused on each and every single face.
Asher stood at the hostess stand, waiting for them.
All around them were happy looking families, romantic couples.
No one was looking at them except Asher, but her gut screamed at her that she was in danger and she never ignored that feeling.