Page 7 of Dangerous Secrets

Nick opened the door for her and ushered her in with a hand to her back. A woman could get used to those old-fashioned manners.

Da Emilio’s was, as always, warm and welcoming, with a huge roaring fire in each room. A cozy bar area beckoned off to the right and Nick steered her towards it. The portly maitre d’ came up to them. Nick stopped and murmured, “Reservation in the name of Ames,” to him, but the maitre didn’t pay any attention to Nick at all. He just barreled on towards her.

Charity sighed and braced herself.

“Signorina Chaaariteee!” She was enveloped in an embrace of big hard arms and a big hard belly. A hug fragrant with Versace and garlic.

“Sergio.” Charity smiled at him when he finally released her. Emilio’s brother in law was a much more outgoing personality than Emilio himself. He made a very good maitre d’.

“Welcome, my dear. Where have you been? Why have you not been eating here?” He held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down critically. “You’re lookingmagra. Too thin. Have you been eating enough?” He frowned and shook his head. “What am I saying? Of course not. Emilio!” he called while taking her coat and—clearly as an afterthought—Nick’s. “Vieni qui subito!”

Some customers walked in through the door but Sergio ignored them. “Emilio!”he bellowed.

Charity winced, glancing up at Nick. He looked amused, totally relaxed.

“Emilio’s going to be delighted to see you, Miss Charity. Why, just the other day he mentioned you. Anna came home for the weekend and?—”

“Charity!” Emilio came out from the kitchen, a tall, lean handsome man. His food was so good, Charity couldn’t understand how on earth he managed to keep so trim. Probablybecause he worked so hard. He’d landed outside Parker’s Ridge twenty years ago, a good-looking young Italian student from Bologna, hitchhiking his way through the States after college, eventually bringing his fiancée, his sister and her husband over from Bologna.

God knew why he’d elected northern Vermont to settle down in, but Parson’s Ridgers were grateful he had. It was the most successful—and best—restaurant in this part of the state.

Emilio folded her in his embrace then held her at arm’s length, looking at her critically, just as Sergio had done. “You haven’t been?—”

“Eating enough,” Charity said on a sigh. “I know, Sergio already told me. But I am, you know. We’re not all fortunate enough to have Silvia’s figure.”

At the mention of his beloved wife, who handled the accounts and ran their family ruthlessly and well, leaving him time to create, Emilio smiled. Silvia weighed thirty pounds more than Charity did and every inch was drop-dead curves that were magnets for male eyes.

“This is true,” he said proudly. “Still, you should be eating more.”

Charity refrained from rolling her eyes. It was time to change the subject. Emilio was perfectly capable of keeping this up forever if she let him.

“But enough!” Emilio held up an imperious hand and the waiter Charity would swear had been across the room materialized in a second by his side. Without turning around, Emilio said, “Dario, two glasses of our finest Prosecco and some hotantipasti.” In the blink of an eye, the waiter disappeared again.

“Come, sit down.” Emilio led them to the nicest part of the bar area—comfy armchairs upholstered in brilliant red brocaderanged around an antique door that served as a coffee table, just to the side of the huge roaring fire.

Emilio sat with them, as if he had all the time in the world, though it was coming up to dinner time and the restaurant was starting to fill up.

“How’s—” Charity began, but Emilio ignored her. He swiveled and stared at Nick, a frown between his heavy black eyebrows.

“So,” he said, showing acres of white teeth in what was not quite a smile. “You’re dining with Miss Charity. Are you a colleague?”

Nick was sitting back, relaxed. “No, not at all. An acquaintance. Charity did me a favor and I asked her out to dinner to thank her.”

“Have you known each other long?”

Nick didn’t even blink at the personal nature of the question. “No. We just met today.”

Emilio narrowed his eyes. “So, do you live in this area or are you just passing through?”

Charity gasped. Emilio wasgrillingNick, exactly as if she were his daughter and Nick an unwanted suitor. She opened her mouth to protest when she caught Nick’s smiling gaze. He winked, subtly, and shook his head. The message was clear.Don’t interfere. It’s okay.

“Actually, I live in Manhattan, but I’m thinking of relocating and have been scouting out areas. I’m also looking to make some investments. I retired a couple of months ago from my job in a big brokerage firm and cashed in on the bull market before it turned south. I’d like to set up my own little boutique brokerage firm, but I haven’t decided where yet. All I know is that I wouldn’t mind eventually getting out of Manhattan. So my life is pretty much up in the air at the moment.”

How clever of him, Charity thought. He managed to convey very neatly that he was single, well off, unencumbered and willing to settle down here in a few short sentences. She had no idea if what Nick said was true or not, but it definitely got Emilio off his back.

Emilio’s face relaxed. “Well, enjoy your evening. It was nice meeting you, Mr.—” he paused delicately.

“Ames. Nicholas Ames. And the pleasure is mine.”

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