“Dad, if you don’t stop talking I’m going to kick your ass.” He moved his head and made a pained sound. “Or I will as soon as the room stops spinning.”
He father walked out of the room and returned with a glass of water and a pill. “Drink this, and go back to sleep if you can. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Kane obediently swallowed the pill and the water then dropped back onto the bed. “I’m an idiot.”
His father sat back down on the chair near Kane’s bed. “No more than most people, but I do want to make sure you handle this thing with Gigi the right way. You and Gio have been friends a long time. I’d hate to see that end over something like this.”
Kane closed his eyes again. “There is no this. I don’t have to tell Gio anything because nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. I don’t know what I said last night, but it was the Scotch talking, not me. Maybe I find Gigi attractive, but the world is full of beautiful women. My phone is full of numbers of gorgeous women who would be here in five minutes if I asked them to. I don’t have the time or the desire to get into anything as complicated as
doing
anything with Gigi would be. Frankly, she’s not worth the trouble.”
His father gave him a pat on the shoulder and picked up the empty glass from the nightstand. “Okay, but call me if you need to talk about it. I wasn’t always this old, you know. I remember what it was like when I first saw your mother. I was stupid in love with her. Still am. I’m glad she wasn’t my best friend’s little sister because I couldn’t have walked away from her for anyone or anything.” He walked over and closed the drapes, bringing blissful darkness once again to Kane. “Get some sleep, Kane. Don’t worry about the office. I’ll head over there now and make sure everything is going smoothly.”
Kane went to sit up again then stopped himself. “Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks. Tell Marge I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“Get some rest, Kane. You want to look human for Gio’s dinner tonight.”
“If I spilled everything to you last night, then I’m sure I told you I’m not going.”
His father gave him a look he knew well. Without words it said, “I expect better from you.” So far, it had never failed to sway Kane. His father was a good man who wanted the best for his children. It was hard to look him in the eye and not want to be deserving of that kind of parent.
“Dad, it’s not wise for me to see Gigi again.”
The look persisted. “Gio has been like a brother to you, like a son to me. I’ll be there at the dinner, and so will you. And if it’s too damn hard to look at his sister, then you wait until you can speak to Gio alone, and you tell him the truth. But don’t let it keep you away from what is a very important dinner for your best friend. My son doesn’t hide from problems. He faces them head on. It’s the only way to win.”
“There is no winner or loser in this. Trust me, Gio would prefer I stay away from his sister.”
Shaking his head, he said, “I’d agree with you if I thought there was a chance in hell that was going to happen.” He paused at the door. “And watch your language. I raised you better than that.”
Kane lay in his bed in his Upper West Side apartment staring up at the dark ceiling. Getting involved in each other’s lives, regardless of whether or not they were asked to, was practically a family pastime. On a good day, it was one of the things Kane loved most about his family. There weren’t many Sanders, but they were fiercely protective of each other. It wasn’t surprising his father had stayed at his bedside the whole night.
Mortifying that at thirty-five Kane had given his father reason to, but Kane didn’t resent his intrusion. The older he got, the more he admired his father and the way he handled himself.
I just hope he’s wrong this time.
I can’t have feelings for Gigi. Gio would never forgive me.
Never before had he been faced with a temptation he didn’t know if he could resist. There had to be something he could do to take his mind off how much he wanted Gigi. Kane rolled over and dialed the first number on his phone. As soon as he heard someone pick up, he said, “Lynn, it’s Kane. Would you like to attend a party with me tonight?”
‡
G
igi stepped away
from the crowd of people who had spilled into every downstairs room of her brother’s home and slipped into what she hoped was the sanctuary of the kitchen. Her face was sore from smiling, and she’d thought she was a person who enjoyed hugs, but now she realized everything was better in moderation. In the beginning she’d tried to remember the names of everyone who rushed over and threw their arms around her as if they weren’t complete strangers to her. It was odd to be in a house full of people who wanted to meet her and still feel so alone.
Instead of the quiet she’d sought, the kitchen was a flurry of cooks and staff, rushing to fill plates. A man with a thick French accent was barking orders while the man beside him grew more sweaty and nervous. He picked a shrimp spring roll off a tray and held it up. “Look at this. I wouldn’t serve this to my dog. When did you prepare these? Yesterday? Last week? I hope sometime this year, yes? You cannot serve this. Start over.”
The man beside him waved a hand frantically around him. “Start over? There is no time. We’ll have to make do with what we have.”
The Frenchman began to swear in French. “You’re fired. Get out of this kitchen.”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but you’re not the one who hired me.”
The Frenchman walked toward him while shedding his dinner coat. “But I am the one who will throw you out the door with my bare hands. Your choice, walk or fly.” He picked up the tray of appetizers and dumped the contents into the trash. “I could not sleep tonight if I let this pass as food.”
Standing at the door of the kitchen, the man held up his phone. “I don’t know what to do. If I call my brother and tell him I messed up the first gig he put me in charge of, he’ll never trust me with one again. Should I leave? Do I take my staff with me? You . . . or someone . . . signed a contract. You’ll still have to pay for today. I don’t have the money to pay my brother for all these supplies if you don’t. I’m sorry they aren’t perfect. I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like. All I know is I need this job, and if I leave I can kiss it goodbye, brother or no brother.”
After saying something harshly in his language, the Frenchman seemed to calm. He rolled his eyes skyward then clapped his hands. A hush fell over the kitchen. “If you work here normally, raise your hand. Everyone else, step to the left of that table.” With the regular house chef at his side, they organized the staff and soon the kitchen was running smoothly, and the Frenchman seemed satisfied. He waved for the man at the door to return and held up a batch of shrimp spring rolls. “This is what a fresh spring roll looks like.” He tossed it to the man. “Taste it. Good food, like a good woman, is always worth the wait. Now, organize your people to serve this as it comes out. No one needs to know about this, but have some pride in what you serve. Especially if you represent your brother.”
The Frenchman rolled his sleeves back down and picked up his jacket. He caught Gigi watching him, and his face transformed as he smiled. “Gigi, do you cook?”
Gigi glanced around awkwardly at the staff, who were curiously watching her. Perhaps she would have learned had she stayed with her mother in Venice. She could easily imagine her mother being just as opinionated about every item that came out of her kitchen. “No, not like this.”
“You forgot me already?” He walked toward her, not at all the intimidating man he’d been a few moments before. “I’m Richard, Maddy’s husband. Don’t worry; I know you met half of New York today. It’s a bit overwhelming at first, non?”
“Yes,” Gigi said with a relieved sigh. “I remember Maddy said you were a chef.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Don’t tell Maddy what you saw in here. She told me not to come into the kitchen, but I couldn’t help myself. Why should what we put in our mouths be less perfect than what we hang on our walls? Because it is more fleeting? Life is fleeting, but—” He stopped at the look on Gigi’s face. “Sorry. I am passionate about food.”
Gigi let out a breathy laugh. “Apparently.”
He studied her face again. “Are you hungry or hiding?”
“Regrouping,” Gigi said with a self-deprecating smile.
Richard pulled a stool away from a counter and motioned for her to sit on it. He took the one across from her. “A family the size of yours is not easy to get to know, but they are good people.”
“They seem to be.”
“This was the first time you met your brothers, yes?”
“Yes. And they seem wonderful, too. Their wives are also nice.”
Richard poured each of them a glass of wine. “Yet you look sad.”
Gigi accepted the drink. She suddenly wished she’d brought her mother with her. How strange that it took going so far away from her to want to be with her. “I was afraid it would be awful here, but I also hoped it would be different . . .”
“Have you had a chance to talk to your brothers yet?”
Gigi found it surprisingly easy to open up to Richard. She had a feeling he didn’t do or say much if he didn’t want to. If he was asking her questions, he was interested in the answers, simple as that. “Only briefly, except Gio. I’m staying here with Julia and him.”
Richard nodded. “After tonight, you’ll have time with your brothers. Think of this as an initiation by fire.”
Gigi chuckled. “Or death by excessive hugging.”
Richard laughed along with her. “Yes, but there are worse ways to die.” He stood up. “Come, you can’t spend the evening in here. Nor can I, even if I would like to. If I must suffer the groping, then so must you.”
They walked into the hallway together, still smiling. Gigi came to an abrupt halt, however, when she spotted someone she’d been trying not to think about since he’d left her the day before. There he was, just as gorgeous as she remembered. He looked perfectly at home at the party as well as in his expensive suit. A tall blonde woman, who Gigi cattily thought resembled a plastic Barbie, hung on his arm like a decoration. Each time he spoke, she laughed and rubbed herself against him. Gigi tried, but she couldn’t look away.
As if sensing her, Kane raised his eyes to her. Gigi’s breath caught in her throat, and she took a step back. She didn’t want to feel the heat that always swept through her beneath his gaze. She cursed herself for wanting a man who was clearly not interested in her. For reading what she wanted into the way he looked at her. Because for just a moment she’d almost convinced herself he wanted nothing more than to walk away from the woman he’d brought and come to her side. Kane had brought a date to her welcome home party. If she was still wondering if he was interested in her, he couldn’t have been clearer.
He turned away, and Gigi gasped from the physical pain she felt at his rejection.
Richard studied her expression and shook his head. “Oh, Gigi, there is nothing there for you but trouble.”
Gigi straightened and started walking. “Where?” she asked, as if she had no idea what he was referring to.
“L’amour fait les plus grandes douceurs et les plus sensibles infortunes de la vie,” Richard said as he walked beside her. Gigi understood enough to get the gist of what he was saying, but she pretended not to. Richard added, “It’s a very old quote: Love makes life’s sweetest pleasures and worst misfortunes.” Richard glanced over at Kane, who was still standing with the overly affectionate blonde. “Be careful, Gigi.”
Gigi followed his gaze, then gave herself an inner smack. She refused to spend another moment mooning over a man who couldn’t have been more obvious about how he felt about her. Gigi excused herself from Richard. “It was really nice speaking with you, Richard. But you’re right; I should go hunt down my brothers. They’re the reason I’m here.”
* * *
“How long do
we have to pretend to care about who just had which baby? I’d rather be asking, my place or yours?” Lynn Thistle whispered into Kane’s ear.
“What did you say?” Kane asked absently, keeping his eyes focused on a plant on the far side of the room because he refused to turn to see if Gigi was still in the room.
“Earth to Kane. You asked me out not the other way around. The least you can do is pretend to be listening to me.”
Kane nodded without looking at Lynn. Bringing her had been a mistake. He’d had fun with her in the past. They were friends of sorts. Sometimes more than friends, but never anything serious. “Sorry, I’m horrendously hung over.”
She knew him too well to accept that. “No, that’s not it. Are you sleeping with someone’s wife?”
Kane’s attention snapped to Lynn. “Why would you ask that?”
She tapped him on the chest. “Because you couldn’t care less that I’m with you. I’d be offended if it weren’t sort of sweet. You have that guilty lover look about you. Is it someone who won’t leave her husband for you? Or someone you’d like to make jealous? If so, I bet she’s dying, watching you here with me.”
Kane shook his head in indulgent amusement at her antics. “Is that why you’re hanging all over me? You’re evil.”