“Umm...no. I just thought we could do something, you know, together.” Did she really have to spell it out for him?
The intercom buzzed. Who in the world could that be? From what she’d gathered living here for the past several weeks, Dante didn’t entertain much, and when he did, it was down in the restaurant.
“That’ll be for me. They sent a car.”
“Who did?”
His face creased with stress lines. “The people interested in buying the ristorante.”
His words knocked her off-kilter. She sat down on the arm of the couch. And here she’d been daydreaming about them one day running the restaurant together. She didn’t have a clue how she’d work things out with Jules being so far away, but Massimo’s words came back to her: Love will always find a way. Now all of her daydreams were about to be dashed.
“You’re really going through with it?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Why do you seem so surprised? I told you I was considering it. And thanks to you, things between me and my father are looking up. It’s time I do what’s expected of me.”
He was trying to be noble and earn his father’s respect and love. That she could admire. But at what cost?
“Dante, do you really think that you’ll be happy working at the vineyard? After all, you couldn’t wait to leave when you were younger. Do you really think it’ll have changed?”
His gaze darkened. “Maybe I’ve changed.”
“And you aren’t going to miss the restaurant—your grandfather’s legacy? Have you even told Massimo?”
Dante’s brows gathered. “When I took over the ristorante, he gave me his blessing to do what I thought was appropriate with it. And that’s what I’m doing.”
She knew the decision was ultimately up to him, but if she didn’t say something now, she’d regret it—they both might regret it. “Don’t do it. Don’t sell the restaurant.”
Dante grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. “I’ve got to go.”
“Wait.” She rushed over to him. “I’m sorry. I’m butting in where I don’t belong, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
“I won’t. I know what I want.”
And it wasn’t working here side by side with her. Her heart sank.
“We’ll do something when I get back.” The buzzer sounded again. “I really do have to go.”
He rushed out the door. She willed him to come back, but he didn’t. Deep down she had a bad feeling that Dante was about to make a decision that he would come to regret. But there was nothing else she could do to stop him.
Not quite an hour later, as Lizzie was trying to find a television show to distract her from thinking of Dante, the phone rang. Maybe it was him. Maybe he had come to his senses and couldn’t wait to tell her.
“Hello.”
“Lizzie, is that you?” Definitely not Dante’s voice, but still it was familiar.
“Yes.”
“This is Dante’s father.”
“Oh, hi. Dante isn’t here. But I can give him a message.”
“Actually, you’re the one I wanted to speak to. I wanted to know if you needed any help with the food for the party tomorrow. My sisters have been pestering me to know how they can help.”
How in the world had she let Massimo’s party slip her mind? Of course, with the crazy filming schedule and the vibes of attraction zinging back and forth between her and Dante, it culminated into a surge, short-circuiting her mind.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I have everything under control.” No way was she telling him the truth. Not after that disastrous dinner.
“I knew I could count on you.” His confidence in her only compounded her guilt. “This party is going to be just what Massimo needs. A houseful of family and friends with great food, music and the best vino.”