“What? You’re denying me?” He was doing his best to sound offended but he was failing miserably. When his chuckles spoiled it he knew, where acting was concerned, he would never make the grade. Any hopes he had of giving Orlando Bloom a run for his money were hopelessly dashed.
“Sorry,” she said with a grin, not looking sorry at all. But then she took pity on him and came over to wrap her arms around his waist and gaze up into his eyes. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
Slowly, he nodded. “I know you do,” he said softly, “but not as much as I love you.”
That made her shake her head and smile. “Not possible.”
He responded with a smile of his own but behind that smile was a maelstrom of turbulent thoughts. There was something he had to do, something he had to say. He only hoped Arie would go along with it.
“I’ll prove it,” he said, his smile dissolving in the seriousness of the moment.
She cocked her head to one side. “How?”
“I want to take you to Italy with me. A week from today. To meet my parents.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “But I thought you said…later…at the wedding?”
He shook his head. “No. I want you to meet them now. It’s very important.”
That made her frown. “Why?”
“I…” He’d been about to say, because I need them to know you the way I know you, I need them to see who you really are. But he didn’t. Arie would never understand. “I just think it’s time.”
He’d thought that explanation would be enough. After all, it was expected that he would present his bride-to-be to his family. Surely she would understand that.
But when he looked into her eyes, instead of acceptance and instead of understanding, what he saw there was fear. And for the life of him he couldn’t understand why.
Which, as much as he tried to fight it, lit a spark of apprehension inside him. Was it possible that his father had guessed right? Did Arie have something to hide?
CHAPTER FIVE
“Arie, they’re calling you to the front. Hurry up.”
“Huh?” She whipped around when she heard her name. “What?”
Farah, who’d been working the event with her all afternoon, put a hand on her boss’s shoulder and turned her toward the banquet hall. “They want to thank you for your impeccable service. They loved it. Now go on before they change their minds.”
To the sound of applause and a little shove from Farah, Arie stumbled into the room then drew in a quick and steadying breath and pasted a broad smile on her face. She hadn’t been prepared for this one bit. It wasn’t every day the caterer was called on for special acknowledgement.
Still, one had to rise to the occasion so, straightening her back and holding her head high, she walked with confidence and poise like this sort of attention was no big deal whatsoever.
To her surprise, New Orleans Lighting Company presented her with an elegant plaque on which her company name and logo were engraved, right above a declaration that Talk Of The Town represented service ‘par excellence’. She’d catered their conference every year for the past five years, never once expecting greater thanks than the knowledge that they were satisfied. Still, it felt good knowing they appreciated her enough to give her special recognition.
She gave the briefest of acceptance speeches – later she wouldn’t even be able to remember a word of it – and fled back to the comfort of her catering team, all twelve of them applauding along with the diners as she exited the room.
“Whew,” she breathed as she slipped past Farah and Paul and handed her plaque to her head chef. “Here, Marcel, take care of this for me, will you? I’ve been so distracted all day I don’t want to lose it.”
“You got it, boss,” the lanky man said with a grin. “Wouldn’t want you sticking it in the oven, right?”
At his words her entire crew burst out laughing and all Arie could do was throw them a haughty glare and flounce off down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Yeah, she’d been distracted all right, and they had every reason to laugh. Why wouldn’t they, when she’d been making dumb mistakes all afternoon, the worst of which was when she’d been busy giving directions to one of the servers and stuck the centerpiece in the oven. It was Farah who rescued the unfortunate flowers from a fiery fate.
It was a wonder the event had gone so smoothly, what with the leader of the team feeling like her mind had gone for a walk and left her body to fend for itself. And it was all Rome Milano’s fault.
Arie was grumbling to herself as she gathered up her things. She had to get out of there. She needed space to think. After giving her staff clean-up instructions she bid them a hasty goodbye and headed for her car. Maybe a drive on the highway would air her head out. Better yet, maybe she should just go home.
But, creature of habit that she was, before she realized it Arie was pulling into the parking lot of her office. She shook her head then gave a sigh of resignation. She was too distracted to even play hooky. So sad.
That left her with only one thing to do – go on in and drown her fears in work, work and more work. Her plan backfired, though, because when she walked in Lena was waiting for her, a look of concern on her face. “Let’s go into my office,” she said as soon as Arie walked in. “We need to talk.”
Arie was tempted to roll her eyes but instead she followed her business partner, her demeanor as meek as a lamb. She knew it would be useless to fight. When Lena wanted answers, Lena got answers, and that was that.
“What’s going on?” The words were out of her mouth before Arie’s bottom even touched the chair. “You’ve been like Alice in Wonderland these past couple of days. Something’s going on. Spill it.”
Arie grimaced and shook her head then opened her mouth to speak. She didn’t get far.
“And don’t give me your usual story that everything’s okay and it’s nothing. Farah called me. She told me what happened at the luncheon.”
Arie frowned. She wouldn’t have tagged the girl as a tattletale. She could only hope she hadn’t told Lena everything. “What did she tell you?” she asked, dreading the answer.
“Everything,” Lena replied, her tone like the perfect school marm. “The forgotten napkin rings, the 'little-girl-lost' look and the baked flowers.”
“They weren’t baked. They were rescued in time.”