Page 6 of Empire of Temptation

“I’ll see that you’re paid until I find a new chef.”

“Thanks, Val. I appreciate that.” He gestured toward the stack of dishes. “I’ll finish up for the night. Just bring back anything that needs washing.”

“I will, and thank you.”

I hurried to lock the back door, just in case any recently fired employee tried to return. Then I went to my office to turn off both the online ordering system and the phone. No sense in taking orders we couldn’t fill.

When I returned to the kitchen, I found Table Seven opening a fresh bottle of wine. I nearly tripped. Like, what the hell? Yes, he looked like a contestant on a reality show called Italy’s HottestBusiness Daddy. But I didn’t need him to witness any more of my humiliation. “What are you still doing here?”

The man rolled his hand as if the answer were obvious. “I’m pouring you a drink.”

“I don’t have time for that. I have to go deal with the customers.”

He filled a glass halfway with red wine. “I have done that already. Have a drink, signorina.”

He had? I peered through the tiny window in the kitchen door into the dining room. Sure enough, empty. “What happened? How did you clear everyone out so quickly?”

“I gave each table one hundred dollars and told them to get the fuck out. Along with your boy, the one that cleans the dirty tables.”

There had been six tables other than his out there. And he sent my bus boy home, too? Who carried seven hundred dollars in cash on them?

I’d think about that later. He was standing beside me now, his expensive cologne filling my head. Why did he smell so good? A glass of wine appeared in front of my face. “Drink.”

“I really shouldn’t. I have a thousand things to do tonight.”

“No, you don’t. Take a breath and have a drink. Your problems will keep.”

He made it sound so easy. But there hadn’t been time in my life to take a breath, not since before my mother got sick. Who was this stranger to order me around?

Except that glass of wine looked amazingly good.

I stared at it, feeling myself weaken. I did need to relax. Wasn’t that what my friend Maggie always said? And this had been a really, really shitty night.

Still, I didn’t trust men bearing gifts.

I peered up at him. “Is this because you feel sorry for me?”

“No, this is because I have been in this country for two days and am still searching for a decent glass of wine. Maybe this will be the one.”

Despite all my woes, my lips twitched in amusement. “Are you a wine snob?”

“I am from Italia,” he said with an elegant lift of his shoulders. “Take the glass, signorina. You deserve it.”

I did deserve it. Fuck it.

Our fingers brushed as I accepted the wine and I ignored the little thrill that rocketed through me. “I’ll pay you back,” I murmured before taking a long sip. The wine was rich and flavorful, a delicious explosion of bold fruit on my tongue. “Wow, this is good. Which one is it? The pinot noir?”

“No. I bought a decent bottle from the place next door.” He went to the counter and poured his own glass. He held it up to his nose and smelled, his eyes closing in concentration. “Bellissimo.”

A wave of heat went through me at the Italian word in his low, pleased tone. My cheeks grew hot, so I hid my face with another drink of wine. I watched him do the same, the thick cords of his throat working as he swallowed. Why was this attractive man here?

“Allora, this is proper wine,” he declared.

“Why are you here?” I blurted. “In my kitchen, I mean.”

His dark brown gaze slid over my face, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There was something dangerous and enigmatic about him. “Because I feel sorry for you,” he replied, confirming my earlier suspicion.

Oh, god. That was depressing.

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