A Perfect Fit (12 page)

Vince came into view, eyeing her as she descended. “Wow. Do
you need more words, because I’m afraid if I try I’ll trip over my own tongue,”
he said as she reached the bottom. He took her hands and pressed a kiss to her
cheek.

The comment made her grin. “I think wow will do. And right
back at ya.” Whatever Cami had expected, it hadn’t been the navy suit with a
stark white pinstripe. He’d said to dress up, but she’d never imagined ‘up’ was
for him included a suit coat. He looked every bit as appealing clean shaven as
he had with a sexy scruff of beard. “I admit, I’m not sure what you have in mind
tonight.”

A smile curved his lips. “Good.” He turned to Lana. “It’s
good to see you again. Hope you don’t mind me taking off with your sister when
you probably just got in.”

“I’ll catch her when she comes back. It sounds as though she’s
been working hard all week. And Vince, sometime I’d like to take a ride in your
balloon.” She lifted a hand as she added a caveat, “But without the kissing,
since she’d break off all of my fingers.”

Cami rolled her eyes, but he laughed. “As soon as I get a
chance I’ll arrange to take you both up for a ride.”

“I’m going to hold you to it. Now have a good evening.”

“I guess we have her approval,” Cami said as she gave Vince’s
hand a light tug toward the door. “See ya,” she said to Sage as they walked by.
The two of them had shared bits of conversation over the previous few days, but
they’d both been very much wrapped in their own pursuits. Sage seemed to have
put her hurt over Cami’s thoughtless comments in the park behind her, but Cami
couldn’t forget them.

It occurred to her maybe Sage had been a little lonely in
the past few days. Despite the free time on their hands, she rarely went
anywhere besides the hotel. Cami pushed that to the corner of her mind to
consider some other time—when she didn’t have tall, dark, and handsome taking
her out.

 They rounded the patio to the driveway and she grinned as a
classic Mustang in metallic blue came into view. She sent him a sideways glance.
“Borrow it from Jeremy?” She was relieved as she’d only ever seen his truck and
her dress and his four-wheel drive weren’t a great combination.

He put a hand over his heart. “You wound me. Jeremy did help
me fix it up, but this baby’s mine. It’s nothing compared to your Z4, of
course.”

“Few things are.” But she loved the lines and angles of the
Mustang. “What year is it?”

“1967.” He opened the door for her. “I bought it when I was
fourteen, spent the next two years pouring all my summer earnings into getting
it to run.” He shut the door when she was seated and circled around to his
side. “Best investment I ever made,” he said when he was putting on his
seatbelt.

“I bet you got a lot of chicks with this car,” she
suggested, though she had the feeling she already knew the answer. It wouldn’t
have been a classic back when he was in high school, but a hot Mustang was a
hot Mustang at any age.

He grinned but declined to answer, making her like him
better for not bragging or denying the truth.

As they pulled onto the road, she asked, “So where are we
going, anyway?”

“You’ll see.”

It ended up being a little mom-and-pop shop off the beaten
path with fabulous pasta and a soft, romantic atmosphere.

“I never would’ve expected to find this here,” Cami said as
Vince held her hand across the table. The staff was friendly and her spinach
linguini in pesto and the slice of tiramisu she’d shared with Vince had been
incredible. “If it wouldn’t offend Rosemary, I’d put a bug in Lana’s ear about
trying to steal the chef. On the other hand, we have three restaurants, and a
number of openings coming up, maybe I will anyway.”

Vince laughed. “Since Carlotta owns the place, I doubt even
you or Lana could convince her to jump ship.”

“Oh, well, you can’t have everything.” But she made a mental
note to add it to the restaurant list for the concierges.

“How is Rosemary in the kitchen, anyway?”

Cami took a sip of her water; she’d stopped at a single
glass of wine. “I hear she’s fabulous, but I haven’t had a chance to sample
anything she’s cooked yet—except espresso, and she’s a whiz at that. Best on
the
planet
!”

“And you?” He lifted her hands, kissed the backs of her
fingers slowly, eyes focused on her face. “What are you good at?”

She felt a frisson of anticipation rush through her at the
contact. “I’m a whiz at a lot of things, and I can make my own meals when I
must, but cooking isn’t my biggest talent. You?”

“I make a mean spaghetti.”

 She couldn’t look away, felt sucked into his dark gaze. “Yeah?
Anything else?” 

He turned her hand over and traced the inside of her fingers
and along her palm with kisses, demonstrating how good he was at seducing a
woman’s senses. “Coffee. Cold cereal. Peanut butter sandwiches—I make the best
you ever tasted.”

Air shuddered into her lungs at his touch and the fluttering
in her chest that he was so good at producing had returned. wondered how such a
simple touch could affect her so much. “Maybe I’ll give them a try sometime.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” He lowered her hand, his expression
regretful. “I suppose we ought to head back. I have to be up before sunrise.”

“Already?” She could have sworn they’d only been there for
an hour or so.

He chuckled. “We’ve been here over three hours. I think they’re
hoping to close soon.”

She glanced around them and realized there was only one
other customer in the building. “Well, then.” She pulled her hand free and
stood. A glance at her watch proved it was nearly ten. “This was a great idea.”

He tossed a tip onto the table as he’d already paid their
tab. “I’m glad you approve.” He threaded his fingers through hers and led her
to the door. “I thought something different was in order, to show you I’m more
than a glorified mower of lawns.”

“I had already figured that out,” she reminded him.

“Yes, so you said.” They walked through the front gardens to
an arch covered in climbing roses, still in bloom and filling the night with
their soft fragrance. Twinkle lights had been wound into the arch and along the
bushes beside the path. He turned her into his arms. “You’re an amazing woman.”

“I’m glad you think so.” It was all she got out before he
covered her mouth with his. This kiss was as different from the first as night
from day. Where the first kiss had been gentle, sliding into sensual, this one
started strong, and only grew deeper. He slid his hands up her arms—which were
covered in goosebumps—and to her neck, tipped her head, and took it deeper.

Cami felt like she was drowning and didn’t care about coming
up for air. She held on and pulled him closer, tasting his mouth, nipping at
his bottom lip.

When she eased back, she thought if he was going to make a
habit of sending her head whirling, she’d have to stop wearing high heels. She
felt wobbly and held onto his arm for support while she got her bearings. “You
have a way of knocking me for a loop.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” He took her elbow, steadying her,
and they continued to his car.

After a far less explosive, but every bit as mind-numbing
kiss when they reached her front door, Cami floated into the house to find
Rosemary and Jonquil in the great room with Lana and Sage.

Lana smirked at her. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I didn’t say that.” But she couldn’t wipe the smile from
her face.

“Like the stars in your eyes aren’t enough? How stupid do
you think we are?” Rosemary asked. She pushed a long fall of blonde hair behind
her shoulder. “I’m almost surprised you noticed we were in the room.”

Cami beamed at them. Then her brain kicked in and she saw
the worry on their faces. Rosemary and Jonquil shouldn’t have been there. When
had they arrived? Had something happened after she’d turned off her phone? Her
smile fell and she crossed to them. “What’s going on?”

A frown came over Lana’s face. “We didn’t want to ruin your
date. You’d better sit down. There’s another media issue we need to handle.”

Cami stared at the news article Lana had brought up on her
laptop.

Life of crime: Did Daddy DiCarlo make a big mistake?

As if the pictures of debauchery from a few days ago
weren’t enough, stories are flooding in about the other sisters in the DiCarlo
debacle. Reports that Jonquil Chestnut has a history of theft and criminal behavior
have been confirmed. Rosemary Keogh was expelled from more than one school for
refusing to follow the rules, and actually held internships under two different
chefs in Europe—which begs the question, did Daddy have to pay someone off so
she could finish her training—training she apparently couldn’t get anyone in
the U.S. to give her?

The world waits to see if the daughters of hotel magnate
George DiCarlo can pull off the launch of his newest resort.

Cami gnashed her teeth. “All right, I already know this is a
load of crap, so tell me what really happened. If we’re going to twist it back
our way, I need all the facts.” She looked at Jonquil.

Jonquil spread her hands. “The best I can think of is that I
stole a candy bar when I was nine. My mom found it, took me back to the store,
and arranged with the store owner for me to go in every afternoon for a week to
sweep the floors. I didn’t even get to keep the candy bar.”

“And you’re supposed criminal record?” Cami asked.

Jonquil’s lips twisted and she avoided eye contact. “I had
too many parking tickets—give a girl a break; do you have any idea how hard it
is to find a parking spot in Philly? Anyway, I didn’t get them paid in a timely
manner, and I ended up with a warrant for my arrest. A friend of mine worked on
the force, mentioned it to me and I went in the next day and took care of it. I
wasn’t ever booked.”

“All right. I’m surprised there was still a note anywhere
about the warrant.” Cami rubbed her temples. “Those should be easy to prove,
but I want you to call your friend and find out why the warrant is still
popping up under your name, and get it cleared out. If they’re finding it, the
warrant may still show it’s valid.”

Jonquil covered her mouth. “I didn’t think of that.”

Already feeling a little better, Cami turned to Rosemary. “Okay,
spill, you rule breaker. What happened? Were you actually kicked out of your
schools?”

Rosemary smirked. “Okay, I can’t help it; I was a bit of a
rebel. Dad always said I should’ve grown up in the sixties.”

Not amused, Cami pinned her with a hard glare.

“Fine. You need to lighten up! I wasn’t actually kicked out.
We had an administrator at the school who was giving a teacher problems. She
was a great teacher, totally dedicated, and didn’t even have to work. She had
plenty of money.” She lounged back on the sofa.

When Cami kept staring at her, Rosemary shrugged and
continued on. “Anyway, I was on the student council when she tendered her
resignation in the middle of the year because the dude was picking at her so
much. We talked about it and decided to stage a walkout. I headed the whole
thing. The administrator quit that day and left town, and the teacher stayed.
If I served a week’s after-school detention, it was well worth the price.”

“And what else? I understand you actually completed two full
internships in Europe with chefs who focused on different things. The second
one was a pastry chef, right?” Cami leaned back in the chair, not quite ready
to relax, but feeling a little better about things.

“Exactly. So it’s total crap.”

“And before that?”

Rosemary’s lips pursed. “Okay, there was one more situation,
but I was framed.”

Framed? Really? Cami wanted to reach out and smack Rosemary
for not getting to the point. She’d been in such a great mood ten minutes
earlier. “Details. Now.”

“Keep your shirt on, or should I say, your dress, and did I
mention how much I love those sandals? Wow!” She shifted further into the
cushions and took a sip of her Diet Mt. Dew—the only thing Cami had ever seen
her drink besides espresso. “Anyway, I was going to a private school, and the
cheer queen was upset the football captain liked me. We had words, which a
teacher stopped—
words
, no physical fighting involved. Of course, there
may have been slapping and scratching in the future if the teacher hadn’t
stepped in, but that’s beside the point.”

Rosemary waved the comment away. “Okay, so I probably would’ve
used my fist, but it never got that far. Anyway, we had a report due for
history class, and she copied a paper from the Internet, put my name on it and
somehow swapped my actual report. No, I can’t prove she was responsible, but,”
she shrugged, “who else? Then she went to the teacher and said she’d overheard
me talking about how I didn’t care about the class anyway, and so I’d totally
poached a report from online. Of course the teacher did a couple of searches
and proved it was stolen. It didn’t matter that I had a copy of the report I’d
written, the school put me out to dry as an example.”

Cami was sure dealing with Rosemary was going to give her
ulcers. “You were how old?”

“Seventeen. And I had great self-control. I only keyed her
car in response, but I made sure it couldn’t be pinned on me, so it’s fine.”
She folded her arms over her chest.

Cami swore. She stood and walked over to the window, fisting
her hands to keep from hitting something. Why was she having to deal with this
woman? What had her dad been thinking putting Rosemary to work in his hotel?

“Chill, kidding, I didn’t key her car. It crossed my mind
when I saw it sitting in a parking lot one night, but I held myself back. There
is a line.”

Cami felt some of the tension eased from her back and
shoulders, but kept her hands fisted at her sides as she turned to everyone.