A Little Slice of Heaven (7 page)

“
I didn’t say that,” she replied a little too quickly. “And anyway, you’re blowing Kyle’s looks way out of proportion.”

“
Oh?” A golden eyebrow arched, and then fell. “My mistake. Here I thought you were telling me this guy’s a bigger hunk than your brother, which, in the grand scheme of hunkdom, puts the guy pretty high on the totem pole. So, what’s your Kyle like?”

“
He’s not
my
Kyle, Hayley.”

“
Uh-huh, sure.”

When had Hayley turned up the thermostat? The air had become unbearably warm. Perhaps steam from her coffee cup bathed her face. Or maybe Bomber’s excessive weight added to her body temperature. Either way, she resisted the urge to fan herself. No doubt, Hayley would take such a gesture the wrong way. And she wasn’t in the mood for another round of Hayley’s favorite game—
Could This Be Mr. Right
?

Focused on her breathing, she waited until the fever flooding her face and hands cooled. “What I meant was Joey’s clothes are too snug.”

“
And I repeat. ‘Yum.’ So when do I get to meet this Adonis in bum’s clothing?”

“
Anytime you like. I’m not hiding him.”

“
Maybe you should.”

Puzzlement furrowed Gianna’s brow, embedding imprints on her brain. “Why? There’s nothing between us, Hayley. I’m his boss—”

“
As well as his landlady.”

Shaking her head, she snorted. “Only in the loosest definition. We’re becoming friends. That’s all there is to our relationship.”

“
Uh-huh.” Hayley tossed a curl of hair over one shoulder with that flirtatious grace Gianna envied so much. “Don’t you think it’s about time you considered a new guy for more than friendship? For heaven’s sake, you and Frank broke up six months ago. It didn’t take him long to replace you. Why are you waiting so long to replace him?”

“
Maybe because I have scruples.” A little testy, but between the hair flip and the smart-ass attitude, Hayley deserved a little testy.

“
Or maybe you still haven’t gotten over Frank the Snake. But, hey. All the more reason to have a fling with your Dumpster hunk.”

“
I don’t think—”

“
Ooh, ooh.” Hayley waved her hands like a contestant on a game show. “Take Kyle to the wedding. We’ll do it the way you planned. You all dolled up with a new dress, new hairstyle, a whole Pimp-My-Look kinda thing. Frank’ll take one look at you and wonder what made him choose the runner-up instead of the real prize. Even better, he won’t be able to do a thing about it, ‘cuz the yummy Kyle will be draped around your shoulders like a cheap stole.”

“
I didn’t say I was taking Kyle, remember?”

“
You’re running out of time, sweet cheeks. Besides, Claudio already put the idea in his head, right?”

“
Well, he didn’t say he’d go,” she murmured.

All trace of humor gone, Hayley leaned on her elbows. “Maybe because
you
haven’t asked him yet. So what are you waiting for?”

The heat in the room increased to the interior of an active volcano. Gianna scanned the grapes and apples decorating Hayley’s wallpaper, the oaken tabletop, the mug of coffee, and Bomber’s swishing tail.

She had no one to blame but herself. All she wanted was the opportunity to shine, to show Frank and his blushing bride she’d survived their backstabbing. In thirty days’ time, she’d only discovered one viable candidate to play the gorgeous man on her arm. A homeless stranger lurking around the restaurant’s Dumpster. God, wouldn’t Frank and Rachel
love
that?

Humiliation scorched her cheeks, and she fought the urge to hide her face. Then, a little voice inside her head whispered, “Frank and Rachel don’t have to know.”

True. They’d be playing host to two hundred guests. If she and Kyle got through the receiving line with a minute or two of idle chitchat, Frank and Rachel wouldn’t have time to find out who Kyle was or where she’d met him. He’d just be the nameless Greek god on her arm.

Maybe this was doable after all.

Chapter Five

When Kyle placed the pineapple and avocado pizza with extra cheese in front of the gaggle of teenagers, Bethany, the purple-haired girl, fixed him with a solid stare. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“
Yes.”

She leaned forward to inhale the scent of the pizza in one loud sniff. Sliding her black-rimmed granny glasses down her nose, she inspected him from brow to chin. “What’s your name?”

He didn’t reply to the teenage interrogation. This Gothic librarian would soon learn he didn’t play adolescent games.

“
You dating Gianna?” she persisted.

“
No.”

“
Why not?” Her voice rose an octave and a decibel. “You prefer guys?”

In a curling wave of interest, a dozen teenagers stopped all conversation, slamming textbooks closed, to pay devoted attention to his reply.

“
No,” he managed through an exasperated breath.

“
Can you speak in more than one syllable?” Tommy interjected from the far corner of the booth.

“
When the mood strikes me.” Their amused snorts followed him to the counter where Gianna stood. Curiosity reflected in her unwavering stare, but he shook off her silent questions.

Dating Gianna. What a ridiculous supposition
.

Oh, she was pretty enough. And in an unspoiled way, not like the debutantes and social climbers with whom he normally came in contact. Still, she and he had nothing in common. He was a product of breeding and Fifth Avenue. His family could trace their roots back to the Mayflower. She was a product of
hoi polloi
and the suburbs. No doubt her roots were steeped in extra virgin olive oil.

Unaware of what he hid behind his furrowed brow, she smiled. Molten heat simmered in the pit of his belly, and then spread through his limbs like hot coffee, enervating and energizing him at the same time. With the same strength Atlas must have used to carry the world on his shoulders, Kyle tore his gaze away from her intoxicating mouth and frowned. Gianna evoked the strangest emotions in his psyche.

While he couldn’t wait until this episode in his life came to an end, a part of him knew he’d miss her smile, the powdery scent of her skin, the thick river of black hair cascading to the middle of her back, the melodious song of her voice…

“
Don’t let Tommy scare you off, Jeeves,” Bethany called, breaking the mystical spell Gianna cast. “We’re just having a little fun.”

At first he thought to ignore the name, but the snickers grew so loud they burned his ears.

“
Yeah, c’mon, Jeeves. Can’t you take a joke?”

“
Hey, Jeeves, what happened to your sense of humor?”

He whirled from the counter, his gaze boring into the leader of the brat pack.

“
Uh-oh, Beth. I think you got Jeeves mad now,” Tommy announced in a mock whisper.

“
My name is Kyle,” he finally said through clenched teeth.

“
Too late.” Bethany waved off his angry stare with a flutter of silver-ringed fingers. “You had your chance to tell us your name, but you didn’t answer. So we made one up. From now on, you’ll be known as Jeeves.”

“
Bethany,” Gianna chided gently. “Don’t tease Kyle.”

“
His name is Jeeves, Gi,” Bethany insisted.

“
My name is Kyle!” By God, how many insults would he be forced to take from these hooligans?

Gianna leaned over the counter and placed a hand on his wrist. Amazing how, with such a simple gesture, she instilled peace to his frazzled nerves. “Remember what I told you about treating everyone as if they were family?”

Yes, but for every rule there was an exception. “To quote Rodney Dangerfield,” he replied, jerking his head toward the teenage ambush squad. “‘Now I know why tigers eat their young.’”

She giggled, and then lowered her voice. “If they see they’ve got you rattled, they’ll keep harassing you. Don’t give them the satisfaction. And if it makes you feel better, when they first met me they gave me the name Mama Celeste.”

Despite a fight for self-control, a snicker escaped his clamped lips.

Her eyebrows shot up in a questioning glare.

“
Sorry.”

“
Don’t be.” She held a finger before his nose. “But if you tell anyone what they used to call me, you’ll go through the rest of your days here as Jeeves.”

“
Fair enough,” he agreed. Just then, Claudio shuffled by, dragging a wet mop across the floor. Kyle nodded in his direction. “What’d they call him?”

“
What they still call him...Mumbles.”

He tossed his head and laughed. “Perfect!”

“
So you’ll put up with Jeeves for a little while?”

“
For a
very
little while. How’d you get them to stop calling you Mama Celeste?”

“
I made up names for them.” She shrugged. “I guess they didn’t like my choices because they mutually agreed to go back to our given names.”

“
How long before they changed their minds?”

“
Three months.”

Three months. He’d be long gone by then, thank God. This place with all its loony residents would fade into distant memory, like a nightmare brought on by watching a horror movie after eating bad Chinese food. He’d go home and forget all about
Villa Mare
, Claudio, Bethany and Tommy, and Gianna.

So why did that knowledge make his heartbeat slow? Why did he have an inexplicable urge to stop time? Why did his gut twist at the thought of never again seeing Gianna? Where did the stabbing pain beneath his ribs and between his temples come from?

Heartburn. This sudden sickness had to be heartburn from all the heavy garlicky food he’d consumed in the last few days. Not that he wasn’t grateful for Gianna’s meals. Dining here beat trying to ignore the pangs of hunger biting his belly like a nest of vipers. Still, he couldn’t wait to return to his regular diet and normal routines.

All he had to do was put up with the Bethanys in this place for a little while longer. But deep down he knew Bethany wouldn’t cause him trouble. Gianna was the one who could turn his whole world upside-down.

Well, he’d simply have to remain alert.

****

Kyle avoided any issues with Gianna for almost thirty-six hours. Then she cornered him, and he forgot all about his vow to keep her from getting under his skin. His only excuse was she caught him at the end of another grueling shift, and exhaustion had stolen his willpower. Who knew she could be so devious?

Once the last patrons had exited the restaurant and the doors were locked, she approached him, a porcelain cup of cappuccino and a cannoli in her hands.

“
Ah,” he said, eagerly reaching for the treat. “You’ve already learned my weakness. Not good.”

She sat across from him, eyes glistening with what he thought was concern. “How's everything going? Are you comfortable upstairs? Do you need anything?”

In hindsight, he should have realized the interrogation was a set-up. Blissful in his idiocy, he simply bit into the confection, savoring the mini chocolate chips and sweet cream surrounded by a crisp shell. Swallowing, he replied, “Everything's fine. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

As always, the foreign words tripped his tongue, yet she smiled as if he'd presented her with a rope of perfect pearls.

“
Do you appreciate me enough to return the favor?”

Caught. By a cannoli.

He took another bite for sustenance. “I suppose. Why? What did you have in mind?”

“
You know that wedding Claudio told you about?” She traced curlicues into the tablecloth beside his untouched cappuccino. “It's a week from next Saturday, and I still need a date. Think you might be interested?”

“
Maybe.” Last bite. Could he stall until the dessert euphoria passed? “What's the big deal about this shindig?”

“
No big deal. Just a wedding.” A hint of anger laced her words, but he let her speak without drawing attention to her mood shift. “I used to work with Frank and Rachel. From what I've heard, this is going to be a big, splashy affair—two hundred guests at a catering hall called The Crystal Palace. Of course, no one needs to know how we met and we work together or anything. We’ll rent you a nice tux—”

“
God, no.” Jeez, the idea of a rental tux made his flesh crawl, and the cannoli threatened to do an about-face in his stomach. “What I mean is, I can get my hands on a tux.”

She cocked her head. “Really? Where?”

“
From a friend.”

“
Wait a minute.” Beneath the stained glass lamp, her eyes narrowed slightly. Only an excellent gambler would have caught the subtle change, the expression used before calling someone’s bluff. Lucky Kyle was an expert gambler. “You know someone who’ll give you a tuxedo for nothing, but this person wouldn’t help when you needed a place to stay?”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I need a better caliber of friends.”

“
That’s an understatement.”

She propped her chin on her hand. A tendril of black hair fell from its ponytail confines to settle between her eyes, and she blew the hair atop her head. Kyle stared at the small O her lips formed. By God, what he wouldn’t give to feel those lush red beauties on his own lips. They looked as velvety as rose petals, and he’d bet they tasted better than the Napoleon brandy he’d longed for on the night he first met her.

Unaware of where his fantasies led, she leaned to take the plate. Hesitating, she pointed at the coffee cup. “Are you going to drink that?”