Chapter Five
“Mama, Pop, this is Miranda Storme.”
Miranda shifted her feet as the elderly couple stared at her in astonishment.
Damn, she’d known this was a mistake.
Why would Gavin’s parents welcome her to their restaurant when she’d been the one to trash it in the first place? She craved to remain in the background and observe tonight, but the moment she appeared he dragged her back toward the kitchen.
Sweat dampened her palms and she fought the urge to swipe them down her skirt.
As if he sensed her anxiety, Gavin linked his fingers within hers. Gently, he squeezed, and she relaxed at the full impact of his support.
His father cleared his throat. “Um, are you the Miranda Storme who did the review?”
“Yes, sir. I’m afraid I am.”
The couple exchanged glances.
“I see,”
Archimedes Luciano said.
“Are you here to do a second review?”
“She’s with me, Pop.
Miranda’s my date tonight.” Gavin flashed her a mischievous grin. “And she says she won’t do a second review under any circumstances.”
Gray brows slammed together. “You dated my son years ago, yes?”
She nodded.
Archimedes glared at Gavin. “You messed up the relationship, didn’t you?”
Gavin winced. “Yeah.”
His father let out a long stream of Italian. Miranda figured the words weren’t meant to be said in polite company since his wife gasped and cut him off with one sharp command.
“Passion without pain, sunshine without rainy days, huh? You wanted it all, but you lost a little thing called love. True love. Real life does not work like this, Giovanni.”
She turned with fascination and caught a flush on her ex-lover’s cheeks. “Giovanni?”
“I don’t answer to that name,” he stated with a straight face. “Stop quoting Sinatra, pop. That’s not what happened.”
His father snorted.
“Everything about life is learned from Frank. I have told you this over and over, but you still refuse to listen.” He focused his attention on her. “My son does many mistakes, but he’s trying to make up for them. I just have one question to ask you, signorina.”
She swallowed. “Yes, sir?”
“Did the broccoli rabe really taste like rubber?”
Miranda nodded. “I’m afraid it did.”
“Then you told the truth, and my son has another problem to fix. You are welcome here. Gavin tells me he has a surprise for the guests tonight. Yet another unveiling of these so-called modern features that make a successful restaurant.”
She smiled. “Thank you, I’m looking forward to it.”
His mother shook her head and patted her hand.
“I agree with my husband.
We are honored to have you as our guest.” She wagged a finger at her son. “Just make sure this surprise doesn’t contain anything distasteful. No lewd singers or dancers to bring in customers. No nak*dness, either.”
Gavin rolled his eyes.
“Mama, give me a break.”
Miranda tried not to giggle. His parents walked away, and she realized Gavin still held her hand.
She tugged but he kept his grip, raising her hand to press a kiss against her palm. His steel-blue gaze pierced into hers. “They like you.”
His warm lips skated over her wrist, and her skin prickled. “How can you tell?”
“Pop yelled at me. That’s always a good sign. He also respects your honesty.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, he likes your hair.”
She blinked. “My hair?”
He released her hand and brushed his fingers down over the strands.
The curls jumped and wrapped themselves around him. “Fire trapped in satin,” he murmured.
“Just like the woman herself.”
A rush of lust hit her hard.
She shifted her weight to relieve the ache between her legs. “What about your mother?”
Gavin grinned. “She likes your spirit. She says I usually walk all over women, and Mama admires strength.”
“Funny, I’ve never met them before this.”
He tilted her chin up. “I kept you away from my family because I knew they’d fall in love with you, and then I’d have nothing left to fight.”
She ached to smooth back the unruly curl that fell across his forehead.
Trace the heavy line of his brow, the thrust of his jaw, the sensual curve to his lower lip. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Want to give me a full tour?”
He allowed her the space and nodded. “Of course.”
She followed him deeper into the back. Half of the tables were filled, and the clean white tablecloths mocked the loss of the majority of customers.
“I want to show you my vision,” he said. “We were losing a lot of clientele because we lacked features that mark the more New World Italian restaurants.” He stopped at the large modern bar, where the bartender chatted with one of the customers, refilling her glass of red wine. “We renovated the bar for the after work crowd, and added an appetizer menu to bulk up customers at lunch and happy hour.”
“I assume your parents didn’t approve of these renovations?”
“They threw a fit. After I found out Mia Casa was on the verge of bankruptcy, I used my money to overhaul the place and hopefully draw in a new client base. But Mia Casa has always been built on tradition, so my family was afraid we’d lose all the solid customers that started our business in the first place. I’m looking for a balance.”
She nodded.
“You’re right. How are you trying to draw people in?”
“We’re advertising entertainment on weekends now. Come on, I’ll show you the lounge.”
They walked into the back room, which was set up with a sleek black piano and dance floor. Rich Tuscan landscape paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and simple arrangements of fresh flowers rested on low tables. Candles filled the room and added to the intimate atmosphere.
“It’s beautiful. I like the way you set up the seating. There’s enough space in between tables to guarantee privacy.”
“That’s what I wanted.
Tonight is the grand opening of the lounge. Our singer starts at nine.”
Her lip twitched. “Lady GaGa?”
His face was deadpan.
“No, Kid Rock.”
She laughed.
“Your mother will be thrilled.”
“Hey, Gavin! I got a huge problem at table four, I need you now—oh, hi, Miranda.” Brando stopped short in front of them.
“How ya doing?”
“Good, Brando. How’s Tracey?”
He beamed.
“She’s great. She told me you went to check out her pizza place and that you told the manager she was one of the best waitresses in town.”
Gavin lifted his brow.
“You actually went to that dive in the Village?”
Brando stuck out his lower lip. “It’s not a dive, they have the best Sicilian.
Right, Miranda?”
“I have to agree with your younger brother. Sal’s Slice is certainly not a dive.”
Gavin groaned. “I can’t believe this. You trash Mia Casa and give four stars to his girlfriend’s pizza place.”
“I call them as I see them.”
“Yeah, Gavin. If you didn’t act like such an idiot years ago, maybe she’d have given us a break.
And she was right. The broccoli rabe sucked.”
Gavin put up a hand.
“No more. Don’t give the woman ammunition. I’m trying to convince her to do a second review.”
Brando snorted. “She never does second reviews. Get over it.”
She bit her lip hard.
“So you’ve been reminding me. What’s the trouble with table four?”
“They want me to bring over a side of sauce for their linguini.”
“So?”
“They’re having the linguini with garlic and oil.”
Gavin winced. “You can’t put sauce over that type of dish.”
“Yeah, but they’re not Italian. They don’t get it.
Anyway, Tony refuses to give them the sauce. Says it will ruin his reputation.”
Gavin shook his head.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“Hey, can I work the bar?”
“You’re under age.”
The famous pout rested on Brando’s lips. “I won’t drink, I just want to serve.
I’m sick of waiting tables.”
Gavin sighed and turned to her. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need to get some things settled with the staff.”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll sit at the bar.”
The brothers left the room and a grin tugged at her lips. She’d never seen this side of her old lover.
Watching him not so in control of the elements made him more approachable. Human. A flare of hope ignited. Was it possible to get a second chance? Or did Gavin just want to save his family restaurant? Miranda pushed away the disturbing question and headed toward the bar.
… He wasn’t happy.
Miranda threw back her head and laughed at something the bartender said.
A rush of possessiveness settled over him, and his hands clenched around the china as he fought the urge to howl and drag her away.
He knew Dominick was happily married, but it didn’t stop the man’s gaze from roaming appreciatively over her body. And he seemed to lean in a bit too close when he spoke.
“No, I asked for the chicken Parmesan,”
Gavin’s customer told him as he set the plate down.
“I’m sorry, my mistake.”
He shook his head to clear it and switched the plates to their correct positions.
“Can I get you another glass of wine?”
“No, thanks, Gavin. How about some more bread?”
He nodded. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Diamonte.”
Gavin muttered a curse as he hurried back to the kitchen. He’d invited her out for a romantic evening and ended up taking over the role of waiter. He was going to kill Brando. His half-hour break now stretched to over an hour.
Probably making out with Tracey in the car, and God knows that could take forever.
Gavin glanced once more to his date, but she seemed perfectly at ease with Dominick’s company. And Antonio’s.
And Pop’s. Hell, even the singer he hired stopped to introduce himself and chat.
Everyone seemed to get a chance to enjoy her company except him.
The smell of smoke made him turn left. He stopped at the corner table where Pop and his Sinatra crew played cards, drank wine, and snuck cigarettes.
When had he become the straight one in the family? “Pop, what are you doing?”
His father waved him off.
“Cosmo isn’t hurting anyone by having a quick smoke.”
Gavin crossed his arms over his chest and gave him his best hard ass stare. The other members of the group ignored him and concentrated on their hand. Cosmo was second in charge, evident in his appearance. A thick gray mustache set off a face that would make any gangster proud, but he’d gone bald years ago. His thick black glasses hid a sharp gaze that had run a successful place in Little Italy, before he gave it up to his two sons and hung out with his posse across town.