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Miracle for the Girl Next Door / Mother of the Bride: Miracle for the Girl Next Door. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.

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


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he’d talk to her about some ideas he had to promote the business. With a quick fix he could be out of here a lot sooner!

      His sister saw him enter the kitchen. A glance from her expressive blue eyes told him she wanted to talk to him. She took her leave of the chef and signaled with her head that Valentino should follow her out the back door to the nearby stream that ran through the town. In recent years it had been cemented into a channel with bridges where they could lean against the railings and talk in private.

      “I was hoping you’d get back in time for dinner,” she began without preamble. “Are you going to take the villa? It’s been empty for ages. Max hoped you might be interested in it.”

      Valentino nodded. “I told Max I would rent it on a month-to-month basis. It’s roomy and the view is great. It’s an ideal solution for my temporary situation.”

      She looked chagrined. “I thought you said the whole summer.”

      He’d thought so too until his own pride had suffered a debilitating blow from Clara, the one person he would never have imagined could inflict hurt of any kind, not even unconsciously. It surprised him how much he cared. He was a fool to let it bother him, yet it was eating at him like a corrosive acid and he didn’t like the feeling.

      “You know me. I have an aversion to being pinned down.” Isabella didn’t like hearing those words, but she had played mother to him and Cristiano for so many years, she couldn’t help but try to manage everything, even now.

      Once he’d committed to coming home for a while, she’d insisted he stay at the vacant Casali home on Lake Clarissa now used for vacations. It was only a half-hour’s drive from town. When she’d first mentioned it, he’d told her it was too far away to be convenient. In truth, he didn’t know if he could ever step inside that building again. What had happened there so many years ago would haunt him to the grave.

      “I’m sorry you didn’t choose to stay in the apartment with Papa. He was hoping you might move in with him.”

      Isabella was out of her mind to say something like that. He swore his sister lived in denial. Her constant desire to make everything right between everybody and get along drove him around the bend. He was still furious with her for insisting they get to know their two older half-brothers, Alessandro and Angelo. Until little more than a month ago, no one in the family had known of their existence. Unbelievable!

      Yet thanks to his trouble-making aunt, Luca’s guilty secret had been exposed and now Isabella was determined to make them a part of their dysfunctional lives. No, thank you.

      “I’m afraid I’ve been on my own too many years, Izzy. Besides, let’s be honest. You’re always looking in on Papa and don’t need a second person being underfoot, even if I am your brother. Please don’t take that the wrong way.”

      She kissed his cheek. “I didn’t.”

      “I admire you for taking care of him.” That part was the truth. In her own right she was a terrific person. With her long, wavy black hair and olive skin, he considered her the quintessential Italian woman. “Papa couldn’t have made it this long without you.” She’d been the glue holding the family together.

      “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice.

      “I should have said something long before now.” When he saw the work she did without complaint day after day, it made him feel all the more uncomfortable that already today he’d been entertaining thoughts of bolting before morning.

      Her eyes searched his. “You’re in a strange mood. You burst into the kitchen like you were being pursued, and now you’re being uncharacteristically reflective. What happened to you after you talked to Max about the villa?”

      Like a mother with eyes in the back of her head, his sister saw more than he wanted her to see. He’d run into Clara Rossetti on the way here, but their unexpected encounter hadn’t turned out as he’d anticipated, leaving him strangely unsettled.

      “I’ve had an idea on how to expand the business. Unfortunately Papa is such a traditionalist, I don’t know if he’ll hear me out. I’m the last person he wants advice from.”

      “How can you say that?” she cried. “You’re an international success in business. You could double your fortune showing others how to make it big.”

      “That doesn’t impress a bona fide restaurateur like Papa.”

      “Of course it does!”

      He shook his head. “Let’s not play games, Izzy. You know why.” They stared at each other. “I’m not his biological son. I’m a reminder that I was Mamma’s love child from another man.”

      “Papa raised you as his own with me and Cristiano.”

      “Yes, and every time he sees me on television or hears about me on the news, he has to wonder about the stranger who was half responsible for my existence. I gave up caring a long time ago when I realized my birth father didn’t want anything to do with me either.”

      Her soulful eyes looked up at him helplessly.

      “If he had, he would have made arrangements with Mamma for visitation. Papa had to take me when he took Mamma back. After she died, he was stuck with me. Considering he didn’t want his first two sons, let’s just say the bastard child comes in last on all counts.”

      “No, Valentino!” She threw her arms around him. “That’s not true. You simply can’t believe those things.”

      “Let’s not talk about it anymore, Izzy. It’s water under the bridge.” He didn’t want to get into the subject of their father. The shocking revelation that his first marriage had produced two sons living somewhere else on the planet had done too much damage to Valentino. He felt emotionally wiped out. Erased.

      Isabella wiped her eyes. “Then tell me about your idea.”

      “I don’t know if it will work, but I think it’s worth a try. This establishment has been Papa’s dream. None of us wants to see it go under.” In Luca’s own way he’d been a good father to Valentino. It was payback time.

      “We can’t let that happen.”

      “Agreed. What would you think if we did some advertising with various tour-group operators from Rome and Naples to bring in more people? I’ll do the groundwork, of course. If it’s a go, I’ll contact other operators in Florence and Milan.”

      “That’s pure genius!” she cried excitedly.

      He shook his head. “Papa will probably hate it. Secondly I’d like to set up an Internet Web site for us. Anyone seeing our name on a restaurant list can contact us to make advance reservations. Once we’re set up on the best search engines, we ought to see an increase in traffic.”

      “Those are both fabulous ideas. Once people discover us, they always come back for repeat business.”

      “The trick is to get them here. We just need to spread the word. When do you think would be the best time to approach Papa?”

      “Mornings, after he’s up and dressed for breakfast.”

      “I’ll come tomorrow. Depending on how he’s feeling, I’ll broach the subject.”

      “I’m so glad you’re here.”

      Wishing he could say the same, he hugged her instead. Unfortunately being back meant having to face his old ghosts. The fact that Cristiano was in Australia only reminded Valentino how far the Casali family had grown apart emotionally. Which reminded him of something else unpleasant.

      “Did I tell you I happened to see Clara Rossetti in the piazza this afternoon?”

      “Oh, yes? You two were inseparable growing up. Sometimes I think she was the only person you ever truly cared about after Mamma died. I used to be jealous of her.”

      He blinked, not only shocked by her admission, but by the fact that his attachment


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