When we started heading through the busy kitchens, I looked back at him in confusion. He stopped for a moment to say something in Italian to one of the chefs. They talked rapidly with lots of arm-waving and shouting and then Aldo turned back to me with a smile again.
“Come, come, he’s waiting upstairs for you.”
“Is everything okay here? If he’s needed in the restaurant I can just tell him we need to rearrange.” I really didn’t want to rearrange, but I was sympathetic to the fact the he was one of the head chefs and might be needed.
Aldo laughed. “Absolutely not, he would how you say, have my guts for garters.” I stared at him in puzzlement and he laughed. “I have been studying history at night school. It is an English saying from”—he looked thoughtful for a moment—“Tudor times. It means he would not be very happy if you were to leave, Belle. Come, come.”
I laughed and nodded, and when we reached the bottom of a staircase he opened the door and directed me up it as he said goodbye.
At the top of the stairs I tapped on another door and Lorenzo swore in Italian behind it before the sound of his footsteps came quickly toward me and he opened the door. He was dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of light blue jeans. He looked handsome and he smiled widely as he took in my outfit. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel and threw it over his shoulder before dragging a hand through his hair and smiling at me.
“Belle,” he said, looking me up and down appreciatively, “you look ravishing. Please, please, come in, dinner is almost done.”
His living room was bigger than my entire trailer, and I looked around at the beautiful artwork on the walls and the contemporary furniture that filled his home, feeling out of my depth and a little overwhelmed by it all.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” he said, oblivious to the fact that I was in a state of awe. “Shit, the food.” He darted off, telling me to make myself at home, and then I was alone.
I tentatively went further into the room, feeling out of place and awkward, but that was more to do with me than it was with Lorenzo or his home. The place was beautiful, tastefully decorated. It wasn’t flamboyant or trashy, it was warm and welcoming, but all I could think about was what he would think when he saw where I lived. My trailer was falling apart—literally. There were holes in places, windows glued in place, the furniture wasn’t second hand—it was third, maybe even fourth.
Soft music was playing in the background from some hidden speakers in the walls. I walked around the room gazing appreciatively at the art and photos everywhere. Family was clearly very important to him, and I liked that. I didn’t have much in the way of family, but what I did have was everything to me.
Lorenzo came back in with two glasses of red wine. “Sorry about that, you came at a crucial point in the process of cooking.” He handed me a glass and clinked his against it. “To new possibilities.”
“To new possibilities,” I mimicked with a smile. I was feeling completely out of my depth and all the confidence I’d felt after shouting at Beast seemed to have vanished completely. His words echoed in my head about what men think about when on a date. But when I looked at Lorenzo I just couldn’t see it. He seemed too genuine for that. Surely he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if he just wanted sex.
“Everything okay?” he asked, sensing my awkwardness.
“Yes! Just nervous, I guess.” I took a sip of the wine and tried to pull myself out of the dark space that Beast had sent me. “Oh wow, this is gorgeous.”
He smiled, looking more than happy with the comment. “So, I hope you don’t mind but I didn’t do anything fancy tonight. I made lasagna and some arancini balls and a salad. We serve a lot of the fancy stuff downstairs, but I prefer my mama’s secret recipe lasagna over almost anything.” He took a sip of his wine and I realized that he was obviously feeling a little nervous too.
My stomach rumbled. “That actually sounds perfect.”
“Plus, I remembered that lasagna was your favorite.” He grinned. “It helps to know your customers, huh?”
“Clearly,” I replied with a smile.
He guided us through the apartment toward what I thought would be a small kitchen, given how big the living room was, but it was actually a huge kitchen. A large AGA cooker sat along one wall and there was a large island in the center of the kitchen, separating the kitchen from another small lounge area with a dining room table, a little sofa, and some bookshelves. A large metal rack hung from the ceiling over the island and stainless-steel pots and pans and some baskets with fruit and vegetables hung. It was every chef’s dream to have a kitchen like this. No wonder he didn’t need us to eat in the restaurant downstairs.
“I love your place. It’s so much bigger it looks from the outside,” I gushed.
He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me to the island before pulling out a stool for me to sit on. Lorenzo smiled and looked around.
“Well, it used to be three separate apartments, but my dad bought each one of them over the years as the restaurant and his family grew. When he retired he found that he couldn’t stay out of the restaurant, and so my mom made him buy a house for them far away from the restaurant and I took it as my opportunity to completely revamp the place.” He ran a hand through his hair almost nervously.
“You have brothers, right?”
“Yeah, two. Mateo and Carlos. Neither of them were interested in the restaurant business though.” Lorenzo fell silent, his thoughts elsewhere for a moment, and I realized that I must have hit on a touchy subject.
I put my hand on his arm. “Hey, I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
Lorenzo looked back at me and smiled, the expression vanishing. “You did nothing wrong. I just don’t talk about my brothers much—none of us do.” He fell silent a moment, his expression darkening. “Let’s just say they chose a different path than I did.”
*
The food was amazing, the wine was gorgeous, and Lorenzo’s company was perfect. The evening was going just how I’d hoped, after a nervous start from us both.
“Let’s go sit,” he said, gesturing to the small sofa opposite the kitchen after we’d finished eating. “I’ll clean up everything tomorrow.”
