Miracle for the Girl Next Door / Mother of the Bride: Miracle for the Girl Next Door. Rebecca Winters

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      “But not you?” He sounded intense again, as he had yesterday.

      “Of course it does!”

      “It’s the only transportation I have at the moment,” he murmured in a voice deeper than she remembered. The eighteen-year-old Tino had become an incredibly attractive male. “Come for a drive with me. I need to talk to you.”

      With that silken tone, Valentino had a way of getting under her skin, but the last thing she wanted was for him to know about what was going on in her life. To spend any time with him when he was no doubt leaving town again would be like standing too near a white-hot conflagration. No more pain…

      She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time. When you drove in, you saw Tomaso opening up the stand for business. I’m running it today.”

      “Give me five minutes.”

      Clara got this suffocating feeling in her chest. “Can’t we talk right here?”

      His striking features darkened with lines. “What are you afraid of?”

      The blood hammered in her ears. She backed away from him. “Nothing! I just can’t imagine what’s so important you would come all this way. It’s been years.”

      “Nine, to be exact. That’s too many between old friends. I’m here to atone for my sins.” His lips smiled, but for a brief moment his dark eyes looked haunted. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse me as easily as you did yesterday when I offered to drive you home—”

      “The bus was there. I saw no reason to put you out, but I meant no offense,” she added to appease him.

      “None was taken.” He cocked his head. “Since you’re busy now, I’ll come by later in the day when you’re ready to close up the stand.”

      Later in the day? “Please don’t—” she cried, working up to a panic. After a full day’s work, she would need to rest and he’d know something was wrong.

      His dark brows lifted. “Have you already made plans for this evening? With a boyfriend, perhaps?”

      “Yes.” She leaped at the excuse he’d just given her.

      Since her weight loss she’d been besieged by different guys from the valley wanting to go out with her. She’d had a lot of dates. One of the guys, Leandro, had been fairly relentless trying to get her to go out with him. When she did, she realized she had no interest in him. But Valentino didn’t know any of her dating history and she wanted to keep it that way.

      “What time will he be picking you up?”

      “When he gets off work,” she improvised.

      “So when will you close the stand?”

      “I—I don’t know,” she stammered.

      “You don’t know?” he enquired smoothly. “Four o’clock? Five?”

      “Why are you asking me all these questions?” she blurted before realizing she’d displayed her anger. Since Valentino had never witnessed this side of her nature, he stared at her as if she’d turned into a complete stranger. In a way she had. Right now her heart was thudding so hard she felt ill.

      “I was hoping you’d find a few minutes in your busy schedule for me.” To his credit he held onto his temper.

      She averted her eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t have any time today,” she said in a subdued tone.

      “I can hear Silvio in your voice,” his voice grated. “Forgive me for coming here and disturbing you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.” He turned away and headed for his car.

      After he’d mentioned her brother’s name, she couldn’t allow him to think what he was thinking. “How long are you going to be in Monta Correnti?”

      He opened the car door. “For as long as it takes.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “My father’s not well.”

      She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Is it serious?”

      “I hope not.” He started to get in the car.

      “Wait—” she called out before she realized how anxious she sounded.

      His dark head reared back. “Yes?”

      “I’m going into town in the morning to do some errands. If you want, I’ll meet you at the Pasticceria Bonelli in the Piazza Gaspare where I caught the bus. We could have a cup of coffee or something beforehand.”

      “What time?”

      “Shall we say ten o’clock?”

      “I’ll be there. Grazie, piccola.”

      At eight the next morning Valentino dressed in a polo shirt and jeans before leaving the villa to walk to the restaurant. He entered through the back door into the kitchen with the key Isabella had given him. His plan was to eat breakfast with his father so they could talk business.

      Valentino didn’t hold out much hope of getting anywhere with him. His father knew the restaurant business inside and out. You couldn’t tell him how to run it. Valentino could only try to make a suggestion, but even then his parent would probably resent it.

      At first he didn’t think anyone was about, but as he passed by the storage area that served as a pantry of sorts he glimpsed someone through the door that stood ajar. On closer inspection he realized it was his father up on a small stepladder with a clipboard. Valentino noticed his cane resting against the leg of the ladder.

      Not wanting to startle him by calling out, he moved over slowly to where his father stood, but when the older man saw him, he still jumped and almost fell off the ladder. Valentino rushed to steady him. He was thinner than the last time he’d seen him just a month ago, but he still had a full head of brown hair though it was streaked with silver.

      “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

      What a great beginning! Valentino had to tamp down his temper. “I was afraid if I announced myself in the doorway, you’d turn suddenly and fall. I can see you’re doing the inventory. Don’t you think—?”

      “Not you, too—” his father barked, interrupting him. “Go on—say it! Everyone else does. Your aunt Lisa yelled at me the other day that I’m too old and crippled to run my own restaurant. That’s the only reason you came back to Monta Correnti, isn’t it? Isabella probably sent you in here to stop me!”

      Valentino winced. His father didn’t want him here. What else was new? “I haven’t seen Isabella today. Isn’t she at market?”

      “Who knows?”

      That was a lie, of course. His father knew everything. “Actually I came early so I could help you do whatever needed doing. Inventory is the only thing I’m good at when it comes to running the restaurant.”

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