I grab my coat and phone and don’t bother shutting off my computer before I run out of my apartment to confirm for myself that I didn’t make a mistake.
I have to be certain.
Chapter Five
Lorenzo
“This is a nice place, do you come here often?”
I pull my eyes from the menu and to the woman seated across from me. When my father called me to ask for a favor, I never thought he’d ambush me at my office, telling me about a date he'd set up for me with Estella's niece. My stepmother has been hinting for weeks that her niece Natalie would be perfect for me, and my father—ever eager to please his new wife—took it upon himself to arrange this lunch. I didn't want to insult Estella by refusing outright. She's been nothing but kind since she married my father, and her happiness matters to him.
Lately, he's been whining and groaning about being the only one of his sons who still hasn’t settled down, but I never thought he'd take matters into his own hands. I shouldn't be surprised that he has.
Even so, I tried to back out of the date and pointed out how busy I was, which technically wasn't a lie. My office looks like a printer exploded with the number of files lying around. My father wasn’t hearing any of it, even offering to stay in my office and take my calls while I was away, essentially backing me into a corner.
Natalie is a beautiful woman, and her company is pleasant enough, but she's not Fiona. The two are complete opposites, and while I know I shouldn't compare them, I can't help but do just that. For one, Natalie is a book of prim and proper—from the way she talks and carries herself. A complete opposite of Fiona with her wild red hair and wide blue eyes that feel alive. Fiona wears her heart on her sleeve, and it's always easy to tell what she's thinking and feeling.
This would hurt her.
Maybe coming on this mockery of a date was a mistake, but I figured I could buy Natalie lunch first, then break the news gently that I am interested in someone else and apologize for wasting her time.
I am in love with Fiona O'Shea.
A fiery little woman who will not sit down and cry when wronged. She’d go scorched earth on both Natalie and me. Maybe even my father when she learns the date was his idea.La mia flammahas a temper to rival the sun when she is wronged. I smile at the thought of my pretty little redheaded Norse goddess seated in her apartment and cracking into my iron-hard security just to get back at me for having lunch with another woman.
“This place has great food. Let me know if you need help with the menu,” I tell her, closing mine. I already know what I want anyway; I've come here a few times and know what I’m going to order already.
She smiles politely. “Okay, I’ll trust your judgment.”
We place our orders and sit back to wait. Before she can start with small talk, I decide to be honest. “Natalie, I need to tell you something. I only agreed to this lunch because I didn’t want to hurt Estella’s feelings—she’s been nothing but kind to my family. But the truth is, I’m already involved with someone.”
I brace myself for disappointment or anger, but instead, Natalie’s face floods with relief. “Oh, thank God,” she breathes, then catches herself with a laugh. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just—I’m in the same situation. There’s someone I’m in love with, but my family doesn’t know. They keep setting me up on these dates, and I keep going along with it to keep the peace.”
“Someone they wouldn’t approve of?”
She hesitates, then nods. “Her name is Valentina. We’ve been together for two years, but I haven’t found the courage to tell my parents yet.”
I lean back in my chair, surprised and oddly relieved. “Then why are we sitting here?”
“Because I didn’t know how to say no without explaining why.”
“Call her,” I say. “Tell her to come here. I’ll cover the meal—consider it an apology for wasting your time.”
Natalie’s eyes widen. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. One of us should enjoy this lunch with the person we actually want to be with.”
She stares at me for a moment, then pulls out her phone with a grateful smile. While she texts, I allow my mind to drift to Fiona. I promised to call her this morning, and it’s already past noon. She must be wondering where I am. It would be rude to check my phone now, but I’m tempted to ignore all etiquette and just use the damn thing.
A few minutes later, Natalie looks up, beaming. “She’s on her way. She works a few blocks from here.”
.
I try not to show relief when our waiter arrives with our appetizers, and even before she can serve us, my heart sinks. The aroma hits me first, a wave of nauseating, earthy, slightly pungent smell that I instantly recognize. And when the server places the plate in front of me, my suspicion is confirmed.
Mushrooms.
I’ve hated mushrooms since I was a little boy, and even the family cooks knew not to use them in any food. I've been to this restaurant several times—I know the quality is excellent—but I'm not a regular the staff would recognize.
