The flurry of kitchen activity tensed my shoulders immediately. Determined to stay cool and collected, I rolled them back, washed up, and headed to my station. Three dishes were on the menu for the dinner, one of which was the Linguine di Mare I’d made during my interview. I’d be taking point on that dish, so I got to work prepping it for the approximate number of guests Collin and I had estimated would order it.
After my prep work was done, I helped one of the other chefs. I didn’t even get a break before the orders started rolling in, and the next several hours were spent boiling, sautéing, and chopping. My first break didn’t come until well after we’d served dessert, and by then my bladder was about to burst. Since the employee restroom was occupied, I removed my apron and cap and headed for the customer bathroom.
Piano music played in the main room. I glanced inside long enough to confirm that the plates had been cleared away and several of the tables were pushed to the side to open up the dance floor. Men wore tuxes and the women sported fashionable gowns, each no doubt costing more than I made in a year. A lovely pink gown worn by a girl who I’d guess to be still in high school caught my eye. Plain-faced, with brown hair styled up on top of her head in a complicated-looking braid and heavy makeup, she looked like a little girl playing dress up.
She caught my eye because I recognized the smartly dressed, handsome man she was on the arm of.
Dominico returned her smile and patted her arm as he bent to say something.
He had a girl.
Wonder what that little wannabe tramp would think about him taking me out for a drink and holding my hand?
Ugly thoughts about something that was none of my business. Disgusted with myself and desperate to flee the scene, I tore my gaze away from them and hurried to the bathroom on autopilot. I’d known he was a player from day one and I was foolish to think he’d turn out being different, so why did my eyes burn and my chest hurt? I shoved through the doors and found an empty stall. There I leaned against the wall and tried to figure out why my heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest and stomped on.
I was a reasonable person, and nothing about what I felt now was reasonable. It had to be Adona’s fault for putting those ridiculous fantasies about Dominico in my head. I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths and tried to let the ridiculous notion of me and Dominico being more than friends go. I clearly felt more for him than a friend should, so I needed to stop accepting rides. It wasn’t fair to his girlfriend, after all.
And what did he see in that girl anyway? She was way too young for him. What sort of creep was he? And my god, her makeup! The trampy little bitch!
What is wrong with me?
I shook my head, appalled at my thoughts. Dominicohadlied to me. Which would explain why my cheeks felt like they were on fire and I desperately wanted to punch something. He said he worked security, but he sure as heck didn’t appear to be working tonight. No, he was definitely entertaining. Or being entertained. Why?
Maybe they’re related?
Wishful thinking. I’d seen the way she looked at him. If she was family, then she had some sort of sick and twisted crush on her kin. But really, who could blame her? Certainly not me. I didn’t even want a relationship, and Dominico’s charm had done me in.
So you have a stupid crush. Get over it.
As I tried to talk my heart into not hurting, the bathroom door opened, and giggling voices drifted in.
“Ohmigod, he is so fine. I can’t believe how lucky you are, Valentina,” a voice said. “Your dad said it’s for sure?”
“Yep,” another girl replied.
Not wanting to be accused of eavesdropping on customers and losing my job, I flushed the toilet and headed out of the stall to wash my hands.
The girl in the pink dress had brought in an equally young-looking friend. “Michael has to get married first, because that’s the way these things work,” she said, applying even more makeup to her already overly-painted face. “But Don Mariani will announce Michael’s engagement as soon as Abriana’s on her honeymoon. Michael should be married by the time I turn eighteen.”
Michael from my interview? Michael, Dom’s brother?
“Michael is dreamy, too,” the first girl said. She wore a peach chiffon dress and had gems in her hair and stars in her eyes. I kind of wanted to smack them both into reality. High school girls should be focusing on their futures and realizing their own dreams. Not fawning over some way-too-old for them boys. “I wonder who he’s gonna marry?”
“Father said Michael will end up with one of the Caruso girls, but I don’t know which one.”
“Well one of those girls will end up very happy. Can you imagine being lucky enough to be married to the Mariani heir?”
“Hey, I’m not doing bad. I mean, Dom is a lot hotter than Michael.” She sighed.
Married… to Dom. She’d said her dad had confirmed it. I felt sucker punched. Forcing myself not to react, I kept my gaze lowered, dried my hands, and headed out the door. The stupid, girly part of me wanted to rush out of the restaurant and hop on the first bus home, but thankfully the practical side kicked in, forcing me to march back into the kitchen and finish my job. I’d worked hard for this opportunity, and I sure wasn’t going to let some stupid crush on some boy I barely knew ruin it.
“You okay?” Brandon asked the second he saw my face.
“Oh yeah, fine. Just tired.” I forced a smile and batted away his concern with a hand. “Let’s get this finished up so we can all go home.”
I busted my butt to get out of there while my brain worked out the puzzle. Brandon had been right, Dominico didn’t work there. The party must have been for someone in his family… a family so important he and Michael had been in on hiring the help for it. Dominico was dating the jail-bait in the pink dress, and eventually they’d get married. No big deal. It’s not like we had anything going on. And good riddance! After all, I had no room in my life for some rich, smooth-talking charmer.
So why did my chest suddenly feel like a gaping hole?
