Authors: Judi Fennell
Tags: #romance, #guardian angel, #angel, #contemporary, #restaurant, #fairy tale, #italian, #disney, #cinderella, #stepmother, #prince charming, #stepsister
“
Why would you do that? This is
our livelihood.”
“
Because everyone knows I want to
be on the Board and if I don’t get the position, I’ll never be able
to hold my head up in this town again. Especially if
she
—”
Madeleine shook her head. “I can’t live like that, Lucinda. I’ll
cut my losses and leave. The house, the restaurant, your sister…
all of it will be gone.” The finger-strumming stopped. “So do we
have a deal?”
Bella wanted to claw her eyes out. Wanted to
toss a few hundred grand in her face and buy the place out from
under her. Wanted to lock Sophia in a room where Madeleine couldn’t
touch her.
But she couldn’t do any of those things. The
only thing she
could
do was give in.
Bella exhaled. She should have taken Reese up
on that kiss. At least she’d have had something great to remember
him by other than two quick stolen ones and the absolute derision
and loathing she’d see when she did as Madeleine asked.
And if this wasn’t nightmare enough, another
shouting match erupted from the kitchen.
Although, it could actually be a good thing
and put Mr. Fiorello off the thought of buying the
place.
Bella hurried through the swinging saloon
doors into the kitchen to find Bruno wringing the threads out of a
dishtowel and Gus flailing his arms, bellowing in
Italian.
“
What’s going on?”
“
He—” Gus yanked a rag from his
apron pocket and mopped his face while Bruno slumped against the
countertop, cringing. “Again, with the big noise! It is
ruined!”
Today’s Special. “What was it, Gus?” Not that
she really wanted to know—one more payment to make to Perla and
Harry—but if Gus cared, so did she.
He sank onto the stool at the prep table. “A
soufflé. A pumpkin soufflé. I make it to practice for the
auction.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him they
wouldn’t need it. Especially when this was something that people
might actually want to order. “What happened, Bruno?”
“
Well, Ms. C, I had a bit of an
accident.”
“
Are you okay?”
“
Well, um, yeah, but, um, I did
some damage to the van.”
“
Our van?” Gus threw his rag at
Bruno.
It hit him in the chest and caught on his belt
buckle as it fell.
“
Gus, I’m sure Bruno didn’t do it
on purpose.”
Bruno shook his head. “I think the van will be
okay. I can work on it for you. I know about engines and
stuff.”
“
Well that’s good.” Bella smiled
at him, then turned to Gus, trying to placate him, because once the
issue with the van was finished, he’d be back to the ruined
soufflé. “Why were you working on a soufflé, Gus? We were doing
Baked Alaska for dessert.”
Were
being the operative word.
God, that was a phone call she did
not
want to
make.
“
It is not for dessert.” Gus
pulled his bulk up a little straighter on the stool. “I, Guiseppe
Sorcio, will donate my expertise to the highest bidder at the
auction. The soufflé is but a taste of what I will create for the
winner.”
Except that Reese wouldn’t want to have
anything to do with this place once she told him.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to
stave off both the headache and the tears. But what else could she
do? Madeleine held all the cards.
Bella sucked in a breath. She’d deal with
Madeleine later. “Okay, then let’s get this cleaned up. Come on,
I’ll help you. Bruno, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?
Get to work on the van. I can handle the restaurant until Aunt
Theresa comes in. Her daughter is helping out today, anyway so she
can bus the tables.”
“
Thanks, Ms. C. I will.” Bruno
slunk out the door, avoiding Gus like the plague.
Giac poked his head in the back. “Is Drew’s
order ready? And what about this guy’s lemonade? Madeleine looks
sour enough to provide the lemon.”
If he only knew how true that statement
actually was.
Bella poured the lemonade and took Drew’s
plate from Gus. “I’ll be back in a jiffy to help you clean
up.”
Gus shook his head. “No, you have enough to do
with that woman. Just go be your charming self and I’ll handle
this.”
Frankly, she’d rather scrape the pumpkin off
the oven door than deal with Madeleine, but she also didn’t want to
leave her alone with Mr. Fiorello too long. Lord only knew what
she’d tell him.
Except when she went back out, Mr. Fiorello
was nowhere to be found.
“
Where’d he go?”
Madeleine whipped around so fast, the air
buzzed. “You and your… your…
heathens
chased him off. Do you
know how long it’s taken me to get him here? He’s been dangling on
my real estate agent’s hook for months now and I finally manage to
reel him in and you and that… that…
beast
back there have
undone everything I’ve worked for. Don’t think it’ll save you,
Lucinda. I meant it: get rid of Reese or I get rid of
Sophia.”
“
I heard you, Madel—”
“
Pardon me, madam.” Mr. Griff
seemed to materialize out of nowhere and tapped her stepmother on
the shoulder.
Poor guy probably had no idea how dangerous an
action that was.
Madeleine glared at him. “I don’t believe this
concerns you, sir.” Ice could have formed with her tone.
“
But you’d be wrong,
madam.”
Hmm, the little guy had a backbone—one
Madeleine would make it her business to sever if he hung around
much longer.
“
Hi, Mr. Griff.” Bella stepped in
to ward off the eruption simmering beneath Madeleine’s surface. “I
see you’ve met my stepmother, Madeleine Fontaine Casteleoni.
Madeleine, this is Mr. Griff. He’s opened a shoe store in the old
Colantonio place.” She wrapped her arm around the man’s shoulders
to steer him toward a booth. “What can I get for you today, Mr.
Griff?”
Mr. Griff wasn’t budging. “Actually, Bella,
I’m in the mood to celebrate. I’ve been awarded a seat on the City
Council as the merchant liaison to the Chamber of
Commerce.”
“
Congratulations. You’ll be
representing all of the business on Main Street, then.” She cleaned
off one of the tables, sticking a discarded napkin into her apron
pocket. A couple of coins fell out. She wished he’d sit down so
he’d be away from Madeleine.
He slid into the booth. “And I’ll have the ear
of all the town dignitaries.”
“
Dignitaries?” Madeleine leaned
onto the edge of the booth, all traces of her earlier disdain and
condescension gone.
Bella should have guessed that would be a
subject near and dear to Madeleine’s cold, dead, calculating
heart.
Her stepmother slid into the booth. “Do tell
me all about it.”
The poor guy did not deserve this. Bella set
the lemonade down. “Madeleine, perhaps you should—-”
“
You know, I wouldn’t mind one of
Gus’s specials if you have it, Bella,” said Mr. Griff.
“
Sorry, but there’s no special
today.” Unless he wanted to scrape it out of the oven.
“
Well then, I’d love a cup of your
potato soup, if you wouldn’t mind.”
If Bella didn’t know better, she’d think Mr.
Griff was trying to get rid of
her
.
“
Yes, Lucinda dear, why don’t you
bring this nice gentleman a cup of soup?”
Madeleine, on the other hand,
definitely
was.
Mr. Griff smiled at her and nodded back toward
the kitchen. Bella hung out for another few seconds, fingering the
coins in her apron. Either Mr. Griff was utterly clueless, or he
had more grit than she gave him credit for.
She just prayed he knew what he was
doing.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Jonathan Griff held back his smile as he
watched Madeleine try to reign in her social aspirations. She was
far too self-involved to pull off the sycophantic façade she was
attempting. Even without his Guardian insight, he could see right
through her.
If it were up to him, he’d
poof
her off
to some little deserted island with a palm tree, three coconuts,
and an army of angry sand crabs, and make his job that much easier.
But that went against every tenet in the Guardian handbook and The
Boss had ingrained in him the belief that there was goodness to be
found in everyone if one looked hard enough.
Well, he was looking, but he’d yet to find
Madeleine’s. So, he let her say her piece and contemplated what
role her absolution would play in the Grand Scheme.
“
I utterly adore the patrons of
our establishment,” Madeleine cooed as she fiddled with the pearls
around her neck.
One of the first lessons of Guardian training:
nervous twitching usually signified the beginnings of a lie.
Madeleine was a textbook example.
“
They are part of the family.”
Madeleine waved at Rosa Angelelli with a smile faker than a two
dollar bill. “Hello, Mrs. Andretti.”
Jonathan bit his lip and shook his head when
Rosa raised her eyebrows.
Ah, Rosa… She’d been a challenge in her youth,
but, Lord love her—-and He did—-the dear girl never forgot a face.
Or how to keep a secret. Her nephew, bless him, was turning out to
be as much of a challenge as his aunt. But Joey was a project for
another time.
“
How is it that you were chosen to
represent the merchants?” The slit of white between her lips was
Madeleine’s newest attempt at sincerity. “I thought you were new to
our community.”
“
New? No, I’m afraid not. I’ve
been coming here a lot longer than you’ve been around, my dear
woman.”
Sure enough, Madeleine preened. Ah, vanity. It
ought to be the eighth deadly sin.
“
But why I haven’t seen
you?”
Because she never saw past the end of her
nose. “Well, I’ve been travelling for a bit, and I did just open
the shop.”
“
I’m just surprised that they’ve
elected someone so newly arrived to such a prestigious post. Why,
you’ll be meeting with every decision-maker in the city, and at
some rather impressive gatherings. I can’t imagine that you’ll be
able to remember everyone’s names and positions so quickly. Are you
certain you’ll be able to represent our merchants
adequately?”
Her fake smile wasn’t a buffer for the
sentiment behind her oh-so-innocuous words. Jonathan had to reach
deep within his heart to locate the forgiveness he knew The Boss
would want him to find.
He also had to find some forgiveness for
Giovanni for bugging out early. Not everyone liked every Charge,
but it was still a Guardian’s duty to work on their
behalf.
“
My dear lady, I’ve always found
people to be quite generous. Haven’t you? Until someone removes the
reason for that trust, that is.” Jonathan sat up straighter. Thank
heavens the words he needed were coming to him. Wasn’t it always
the way? About the time he didn’t know what to say, he’d think
about The Boss and then he’d come up with just the thing. “I gave
the folks here my word that I’d do my best by them and they put
their faith in me. Now all I have to do is make sure that trust
isn’t misplaced.”
“
Well, yes, of course, but I still
am surprised that the guild has trusted you with this
responsibility when I’ve—I mean,
Casteleoni’s
has been such
a predominant part of this neighborhood for so many
years.”
There was a reason Pride was on that deadly
sins list.
“
Perhaps, it’s not the length of
one’s service that counts, but the quality of it.”
Madeleine fell against the back of the booth,
her
hauteur
finally knocked sideways.
Jonathan resisted the urge to grin. Guardians
didn’t gloat. But he was rather pleased that he’d given her
something to think about other than her favorite topic—herself.
Madeleine always forgot to take into account the other lives she
was affecting and it was time she was reminded of them.
Just then, Bella swung through the saloon
doors carrying his soup. Jonathan smiled at Madeleine; nothing
killed like kindness. “Would you like to join me,
madam?”
Madeleine scrambled from his booth as he’d
known she would. She’d never eat “peasant” food again; she’d worked
too hard to settle for that. Which was fine with him—and the very
reason he’d offered.
“
Er, thank you, no.” It took her
all of two seconds to remember who she was pretending to be. Then
one hand slicked back the hair and the other went straight for the
pearls. He’d always found the amount of atonement one needed was
directly proportional to the fidgeting one did. Madeleine’s fidget
was off the charts. “Perhaps another time.”
Jonathan inclined his head, willing to let her
stew on his words. Maybe he’d done some good with them. One never
knew.
But then she blew it when Bella set his soup
down.
“
Don’t forget to make that phone
call, Lucinda.” Her tone could have frosted his glass of
lemonade.