The Playboy of Rome. Jennifer FayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
able to track down a friend of one of his daughters, he’d gotten lucky.
Relief flooded through Dante. Help was here at last and by the looks of her, she’d certainly be able to draw in the crowds. Not so long ago, they hadn’t needed anyone to draw in customers; his grandfather’s cooking was renowned throughout Rome. But in recent months all of that had changed.
“And I’d be the luckiest man in the world to have such a beauty working here. You’ll have the men lined up down the street. Just give me a moment.” Dante turned and signaled to the waiter.
When Michael approached Dante, the man’s forehead was creased in confusion. “What do you need?”
In that moment, Dante’s mind drew a blank. All he could envision were those mesmerizing blue eyes. This was ridiculous. He had a business to run.
When he glanced over at the line of customers at the door, the anxious stares struck a chord in his mind. “Michael, could you seat that couple over there?” He pointed to an older couple. “Give them the corner table. It’s their fortieth anniversary, so make sure their meal is on us.”
“No problema.”
Lines of exhaustion bracketed Michael’s mouth. Dante couldn’t blame the guy. Being shorthanded and having to see to the dining room himself was a lot of work.
Dante turned his attention back to his unexpected employee. She had her arms crossed and her slender hip hitched to the side. A slight smile pulled at the corners of her lush lips as though she knew she’d caught him off guard—something that rarely happened to him.
He started to smile back when a patron entered the door and called out a greeting, reminding Dante that work came first. Since his grandfather was no longer around to help shoulder the burden of running this place, Dante’s social life had been reduced to interaction with the guests of Ristorante Massimo.
After a brief ciao to a regular patron, Dante turned back to his temporary employee. “Thanks for coming. If you give me your coat, I can hang it up for you.”
“I’ve got it.” She clutched the lapels but made no attempt to take it off.
“You can hang it over there.” He pointed to the small cloakroom. “We can work out everything later.”
“You want me to start right now?”
That was the plan, but perhaps Luigi had failed to make that part clear. “Didn’t he tell you that you’d be starting right away?”
“Yes, but I thought I’d have a chance to look around. And I didn’t think I’d be a hostess.”
“Consider this an emergency. I promise you it’s not hard. I’m certain you’ll be fantastic...uh...” Did she give him her name? If she had, he couldn’t recall it. “What did you say your name is?”
“Lizzie. Lizzie Addler.”
“Well, Lizzie, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dante. And I really appreciate you pitching in during this stressful time.”
“Are you sure you want me out here? I’d be a lot more help in the kitchen.”
The kitchen? With her looks, who would hide such a gem behind closed doors? Perhaps she was just shy. Not that anything about her stunning appearance said that she was an introvert.
“I’d really appreciate it if you could help these people find a table.”
She nodded.
An assistant rushed out of the kitchen. “We need you.”
By the harried look on the young man’s face, Dante knew it couldn’t be good. He turned to his new employee. There would be time for introductions and formalities later. Right now, he just needed to keep the kitchen from falling behind and giving the patrons an excuse to look for food elsewhere.
“Sorry for this rush but I am very shorthanded.” When the girl sent him a puzzled look, he realized that Luigi might not have filled her in on the details of her duties. “If you could just get everyone seated and get their drinks, Michael can take their orders. Can you do that?”
She nodded before slipping off her long black coat to reveal a frilly white blouse that hinted at her willowy figure, a short black skirt that showed off her long legs and a pair of knee-high sleek black boots. He stifled a whistle. Definitely not the reaction a boss should give an employee, even if she was gorgeous enough to create a whirlwind of excitement on the cover of a fashion magazine.
He strode to the kitchen, hoping that nothing had caught fire and that no one had been injured. When was this evening going to end? And had his grandfather’s friend Luigi been trying to help by sending Lizzie? Or trying to drive him to distraction?
Once the kitchen was again humming along, he retraced his steps just far enough to catch a glimpse of the blonde bombshell. She moved about on those high-heeled boots as if they were a natural extension of her long legs. He swallowed hard as his eyes followed her around the dining room. He assured himself that he was just doing his duty by checking up on her.
When she smiled and chatted with a couple of older gentlemen, Dante’s gut tightened. She sure seemed far more at ease with those men than when he’d been talking with her. How strange. Usually he didn’t have a problem making conversation with the female gender. Lizzie was certainly different. Too bad she wouldn’t be around long enough to learn more about her. She intrigued him.
* * *
Obviously there was a misunderstanding.
Lizzie Addler frowned as she locked the front door of Ristorante Massimo. She hadn’t flown from New York to Italy to be a hostess. She was here to work in the kitchen—to learn from the legendary chef, Massimo Bianco. And to film a television segment to air on the culinary channel’s number-one-rated show. It was a dream come true.
The strange thing was she’d flown in two days early, hoping to get her bearings in this new country. How in the world did this Dante know she was going to show up this evening?
It was impossible. But then again, this smooth-talking man seemed to know who she was. So why put her on hostess duty when he knew that her true talents lay in the kitchen?
Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, but all it took was recalling Dante’s flattering words and the corners of her lips lifted once again. She’d heard rumors that Italian men were known to be charmers and now that she knew that it was true—at least in Dante’s case—she’d have to be careful around him. She couldn’t lose focus on her mission here.
She leaned her back against the door and sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time her feet ached this much. Why in the world had she decided to wear her new boots today of all days?
Oh, yes, to make a good impression. And technically the boots weren’t new—just new to her. They were secondhand, like all of Lizzie’s things. But in her defense, some of her things still had the tags on them when she’d found them at the gently used upscale boutique. And boy, was she thankful she’d splurged on the stylish clothes.
Her gaze strayed to the wall full of framed pictures of celebrities. There were black and whites as well as color photos through the years. Massimo was in a lot of them alongside movie stars, singers and politicians from around the world. As Lizzie scanned the many snapshots, she found Dante’s handsome face. In each photo of him, he was smiling broadly with his arm around a beautiful woman.
“Pretty impressive?”
She knew without looking that it’d be Dante. “Very impressive.” She forced her gaze to linger on the army of photos instead of rushing to ogle the tall, dark and undeniably handsome man at her side. “Have all of these people eaten here?”
“Yes. And there are more photos back in the office. We ran out of space out here.” His voice was distinguishable with its heavy Italian accent. The rich tones flowed through her as seductively as crème brûlée. “We should add your photo.”
“Me.”