Christmas with the Boss (The Fiore Family 2)

“Have a good time, and if the boss man is there, tell him you’re off the clock.” She gives me a wink, but an overwhelming sense of panic surges through me.

“Would he really be there?” I ask, voice shaking involuntarily.

“Yeah, he’s always at one of his restaurants. He rarely takes a day off.” I roll my eyes and then slip on my nearly floor-length wool coat—because this dress deserves a pretty coat, not so much a functional one like I normally wear.

“Don’t forget we’re doing some Christmas decorating before you go back to work,” I remind her. It’s supposed to be a big deal tomorrow because we only have two weeks until Christmas. It used to be my favorite holiday, full of love, cheer, pretty decorations, and of course, tons of presents. Gifts aren’t the same when you’re an adult. It’s like the magic fades, but I know that if Isabelle or I ever have kids, that magic will return.

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ve got nothing else to do most days. I could have this place decorated…” she checks her imaginary watch and continues “…like yesterday if you’d let me do anything by myself.”

“Remember, you’re the one anxious to get back to your career.” She didn’t want the surgery because she feared Fabio would replace her, but it’s quite the opposite. He can’t wait for her to get better and return, even going so far as to pay for the surgery outright.

“True,” she sighs, shoulders dropping.

I hate how depressed she sounds, but I don’t trust her not to test her limits, and there’s no one here to watch her. “Don’t do too much tonight.”

“I’m not. I have a book to read.” She waves the latest thriller she picked up this morning during our little trip to Barnes & Noble.

“Love you,” I say, scooping up my keys off the rack by the door.

“Love you too.” I wave at Isabelle as I walk out the front door and hop into my car. Since he has to work tonight, I decided it was best I drove myself.

When I arrive at the restaurant, a valet comes around and holds my door. I quickly change shoes, earning a smile from him. “It’s much easier to drive without heels on.”

“And definitely much warmer,” he adds.

A second valet escorts me inside. In the back of the middle tables, Fabio’s sitting across from John. I’m stunned, stopping in my tracks. Fabio packs a punch without a word. They both do, but they’re night and day: John is blond hair and blue-eyed, while Fabio’s eyes and hair are dark.

I fix my expression and hold my head up as I make my way to the table.

“Ah—there she is.” They both look my way. John smiles broadly, but Fabio’s face expresses pure shock and then it flattens to anger.

“Am I late?” I ask, wondering why they’re sitting together.

John stands and kisses my cheek. Wow, we don’t know each other like that, and he’s acting like he’s marking his territory. I want to tell him to back off, but if I’m honest, there’s something about Fabio that I can’t get out of my head. “Not at all, darling. I didn’t want you to sit around all alone, so I decided to come a bit earlier. We were just talking.” Okay. He’s laying on the charm thick, but it doesn’t upset me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Fabio says, standing and glaring at me. I scowl at him, knowing damn well that he’s got to be confused—or could he really believe that I’m supposed to be on his schedule and not mine?

“This isn’t Isabelle—this is her lovely twin, Anabelle,” he informs Fabio.

He snarls, “I know who she is. She’s supposed to have a meeting with me tomorrow.”

“Actually, our meeting is for Monday afternoon, Mr. Fiore. This is my free time. You’ll have your requests met then.”

A waiter approaches Fabio and whispers something in his ear. Fabio says, “Yes, you’re right. Please excuse me. Have a good night.” He walks away, but I have a feeling he’s not happy. Is it because he doesn’t like his employees not working like dogs, or could the player be jealous? It’s got to be the former because he’s engaged to that Instagram model who doesn’t even touch her food when she eats here.

John steps behind me and helps me remove my coat. “Wow, you look incredible.” As he says those words, my eyes dart up to see Fabio watching me intently. No, actually he’s watching John’s hands that linger on my shoulders a bit longer than acceptable.

“Funny, that’s the same thing Isabelle said when I left,” I say with a smile, turning slightly so that he’s no longer touching me.

“There’s no other word for it. Please, sit.” I nod and sit on the chair that Fabio just vacated, and it’s still warm. A filthy thought comes to mind, and I push it away as John scoots in my chair and then takes the seat across from me. Focus on your date, Anabelle.