The Playboy of Rome

Her mouth went dry and she struggled to swallow. “Yes...yes, the last customer just left.”

Lines of exhaustion etched the tanned skin around his dark eyes. His lips were lifted in a friendly smile, but something told her that it was all for her benefit and that he didn’t feel like doing anything but calling it a night.

“I can’t thank you enough for your help this evening.” His gaze connected with hers, making her pulse spike. “I suppose you’ll be wanting your pay so that you can be on your way. If you would just wait a moment.”

Before she could formulate words, he turned and headed to the back of the restaurant. Pay her? For what? Playing hostess for the evening? She supposed that was above and beyond her contract negotiations with the television network.

Dante quickly returned and placed some euros in her hand. His fingers were warm as the backs of his fingers brushed over her palm, causing her stomach to quiver. She quickly pulled her hand away.

“Thank you so much. You truly were a lifesaver.” He moved to the door to let her out.

She didn’t follow him. She wasn’t done here. Not by a long shot. “I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

Dante shot her a puzzled look. “If this is about the money, this is the amount I told Luigi I was willing to pay—”

Lizzie shook her head. “It’s

not that. I came here to meet with Chef Massimo.”

“You did? You mean Luigi didn’t send you?”

“I don’t know any Luigi.”

Dante reached in his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. A few keystrokes later, he glanced up. “My mistake. Luigi wasn’t able to find anyone to help out. Thank goodness you showed up.”

“And I was happy to help. Now if you could introduce me to Chef Massimo.”

Dante’s forehead creased. “That’s not going to happen.” His tone was firm and unbendable. “He’s not here. You’ll have to deal with me.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll wait for him.”

Dante rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “You’ll be waiting a long time. Chef Massimo is out of town.”

“Listen, I know I’m here a couple of days ahead of time, but we do have an agreement to meet.”

“That’s impossible.” Dante’s shoulders straightened and his expression grew serious. “I would have known. I know about everything that has to do with this place.”

“Obviously not in this case.” Lizzie pressed her lips together, immediately regretting her outburst. She was tired after her long flight and then having to work all evening as a hostess.

“You’re obviously mixed up. You should be going.” He pulled open the front door, letting a cool evening breeze sweep inside and wrap around her.

She couldn’t leave. Her whole future was riding on this internship, and the money from participating in the upcoming cooking show would pay for her sister’s grad school. She couldn’t let her down. She’d promised Jules that if she got accepted to graduate school she’d make sure there was money for the tuition. Jules had already had so many setbacks in her life that Lizzie refused to fail her.

She stepped up to Dante, and even though she was wearing heeled boots, she still had to tilt her chin upward to look him in the eyes. “I did you a big favor tonight. The least you can do is hear me out.”

Dante let the door swing shut and led her back to the dining room, where he pulled out a chair for her before he took a seat across the table. “I’m listening.”

Lizzie wished it wasn’t so late in the evening. Dante looked wiped out, not exactly the optimal position to gain his understanding. Still, she didn’t have any other place to go.

Her elbows pressed down on the white linen tablecloth as she folded her hands together. “Chef Massimo has agreed to mentor me.”

Dante’s gaze narrowed in on her. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“Why should you know about it? My agreement isn’t with you.”

“Massimo Bianco is my maternal grandfather. And with him away, I’m running this place.”

This man wasn’t about to give an inch, at least not easily. “When will he return so we can straighten things out?”