Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Toni explained to the hospital staff that they were family, a kind nurse took pity and let them in Marcello's room. They were quiet, feeling better being by his side. But the stress of the day finally got to all of them, and one by one they all dozed in their chairs.

Dani woke and raised her head from the hospital wall. She blinked against the grogginess of jet lag and pure exhaustion from the night before. The room was dim, but a sliver of daylight shone through the closed curtains. Steps away, Marcello lay in a deep sleep hooked up to beeping monitors, and her mind ran through the events from the night before.

Marcello had almost died.

She relived seeing him lying on the floor and wheezing out the word kitchen. Was that what he cared about most? Dani thought back to what Andre had said to her, that all she thought about was the kitchen. That wasn't true...was it? Would she be dying on the floor one day using her last breath to say "kitchen"? Nothing about that thought was appealing.

Then there was Toni. That kiss. She turned her head and found him at the other end of the room slouched in his chair, his eyes closed and head resting on the wall. He was too tall and broad for the small metal frame and she suspected he'd be feeling pains in his back later. Sophia was curled up in the chair next to him, her body leaning into his. A protective arm was slung around her.

Long deep breaths came through his slightly parted lips, emphasizing his sensual mouth. He had a beautiful easy smile that had charmed even the hardest customer in the restaurant. By the end of the night everyone knew his name, and loved him.

Kind of like Andre, she winced. Charming the ladies right out of their pants.

But she hadn't expected Toni to be so competent and collected. Men like him wanted attention, nothing more. And yet he'd served more dishes and poured more wine than the staff. Eight hours on his feet without complaint. Andre never worked that hard a day in his life.

Are you seeing someone?

Grabbing her little bag she quietly found the bathroom and recoiled from her reflection. Her flawless night-out makeup had melted down her face, settling into creases around her eyes that didn't need to be emphasized. Baby hairs frizzed around her face. And her lips were drained of color.

And she smelled. She had worked too hard and long for there not to be a tinge of BO, but her beautiful dress had also absorbed every splatter and aroma from the kitchen. She pulled the soft band from her hair and shook out the waves over her shoulders. Yeah, her hair got it too.

Dani ran the hot water and prepared for a thorough whore's bath in the sink. She placed her hands under the water and pulled back at the sharp sting. Burns, she'd forgotten them. Tiny fresh marks from oil splashes and hot plates. They were a chef's badges of honor and she'd gotten used to them appearing in all sorts of places on her body, but she had no ointment to rub on them. Maybe she could trouble a nurse for some.

She pumped the little hospital soap dispenser and in only a few minutes she was fresh faced with her damp hair up and smelling like medical grade hospital soap rather than a garbage dump. Digging in her little clutch, she pulled out a nude lipstick and felt like a woman again with each glide over her lips.

Satisfied that she no longer looked like a zombie chef, she tiptoed back into the room intending to go into the hallway and call her mother. Instead she walked straight into Toni's solid chest.

He was gripping his phone and although it was still dark she could see the concern in his bright eyes. "Are you all right?" he whispered. Sophia and Marcello both still slept.

She nodded and held up her phone in silent communication. He nodded back and they both softly shuffled into the lit hallway.

"I need to call my mother," Dani said when the door shut behind them.

While she was working, her mother had sent several texts, the last one a sarcastic plea: You better be with a man.

She didn't know whether it was good or bad that after long absences her mother had never assumed she was dead or dying. Dani had "run away" when she was ten. It was Paris Fashion Week and in protest of being left again with the hotel housekeeper, Dani had run down to the parking garage and hid behind a cluster of bins. Where she fell asleep for hours.

Knowing she was in trouble, little Dani ran back to her hotel room and walked through the door to find the hotel manager, a policeman and the maid who was watching her—all sighs and relief to see her safe. The maid had actually dropped to her knees in tears.

Her mother? On the couch in her pink silk lingerie set and heeled slippers, reading the evening paper. Francesca had half lowered the paper and peered at Dani over a bent corner.

See, she's fine. Just out exploring. Thank you all so much for coming, but I must get some sleep.Dumbstruck, the group had filed out, but not before the maid kissed Dani on the head. Dani had bet she would make a good mother one day.

Alone in the room, neither moving from their prospective positions, Dani had crossed her arms. You don't care about me!

Of course I do, don't be ridiculous. And is that grease on your shirt? You better get in the shower before you come tracking all that stuff in here.

I could have been killed!

But you weren't.

Someone could have taken me!

Francesca had rolled her eyes. This is Paris, not New York. There is no better place to get lost.

You weren't even worried!

Her mother had stomped across the room in her heels and stood her five-foot-eight-inch frame in front of Dani. Dani had dropped her arms and prepared to run. Did you see all of those people I called? Yes, I was worried, but stress lines on this face won't do, young lady. You are going to stop this nonsense. And that maid is going to be fired for letting you out of her sight. Dani had gasped and run to her room.

"Hey, where'd you go just now?" Toni was standing close, his voice low and a frown on his handsome face.

"Sorry, I'm just tired."

"I bet. You were incredible last night. I don't know what we would have done had you not been there. Fate, no?"

She shook her head and shrugged. Fate? She'd just call it coincidence. "I'm just glad I could help."

"I was in New York recently. I had made reservations at Via L'Italy." His hands went into his pockets. "I wanted to say hello, but my plans got cut short." He frowned, trying to make sense of it. "And here you are, saving my family. I say fate. You must be some sort of angel."

She paused, glad he hadn't come to L'Italy, preferring he not know that she was a ghost chef. Or that she and Andre had been lovers.

"I'm no angel, Toni. I think you know that. I'm just a chef—who needs to call her mother." She lifted her hand and waved her phone. His hands flew from his pockets and grabbed her hand.

"Angel, what is this?"

"What? Oh, it's just a burn." She winced when he touched it. Then his hands ran up her forearm and over the colors of the tattoo, frowning at the bumpy texture of her skin there. The burn had been so bad that the skin had scarred, so her father created some artwork for her and covered it up.

Toni's gaze scanned the hall and then focused. He shouted at someone and in a blur of activity several nurses arrived and ushered her into a florescent room. Several coats of ointment and one bandage later, Dani's burns no longer stung.

"Let me see," he said when she emerged, slowly inspecting their work as if he would make them do it over if he wasn't pleased. He nodded his approval. Toni walked to the other end of the hall and made a call. Dani did the same. Her mother picked up on the third ring.

"You know how I feel about worry lines, Danica."

"I'm sorry, Mother." She explained the events of the night.

"Well, I know how you feel about Marcello. Is he going to be all right?"

"I'm not sure, he hasn't woken up yet. But he's stable."

"And who is this man who helped you?"

"Toni, Marcello's nephew. He's part owner."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Is he cute?"

From the corner of her eye Dani watched Toni slide his phone in his pocket and walk back down the hall toward Marcello's room. He looked pale and his broad shoulders slumped with fatigue. He fought a yawn and rubbed at his jawline, disturbing his perfectly lined beard.

His long legs carried him gracefully and his muscular thighs stretched at the fabric as he walked back and disappeared through the hospital room door. She recalled that he had to have his suits customized to fit his length. He'd need a custom bed, she thought, briefly recalling his naked form tangled in white sheets.

"Are you still there?"

"Sorry, yes."

"Well? Is he?"

Suddenly the door to the room opened and Toni jerked his head toward the inside. His wide smile touched the light in his eyes. He's beautiful, she thought. Maybe too beautiful for a woman like her.

"Umm...he's okay. Look I have to go, I think Marcello is awake. I'll see you later."

"I hope so, but I'm leaving for hair and makeup after lunch. The Chanel show is at 7 p.m., Danica. Wear something fabulous. If I don't see you before then I'll leave your pass on the table."

"Okay. I love—" She heard the click and sighed, then walked back to Marcello's room.

Marcello's eyes were slits under bushy white brows and his voice was more gravelly than usual, but the grip the old man had on Toni's hand was strong. He'll be okay, Toni thought-wished.

"Do you remember what happened?" Toni half whispered, careful not to wake Sophia.

Marcello nodded, gesturing for water, which Toni poured quickly and handed to him. "The restaurant," Marcello said after a few sips from his paper cup. "What happened?"

"We took care of it, but I don't think you should worry about this now."

"Who cooked?" Marcello barked, color coming back to his cheeks.

"Gianni walked out, so your old friend Danica stepped in."

Marcello smiled like a proud father. "How was she?"

"She's a remarkable chef. A bit stubborn. Too precise when it comes to plating. Obviously the dishes had an American twist to them, but overall it was successful."

"Wow, I feel like I just got graded by a substitute teacher," Dani said behind him, flashing Toni a dark look. "Marcello," Dani whispered with tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad you're awake."

Toni stepped back as Dani and Marcello embraced and Toni caught a tear in Marcello's eye, as well. Because he had no children of his own, Marcello had spoiled Toni rotten. He had the feeling he'd done the same to Dani too.

"Let me see your hands," Marcello asked Dani. Marcello always said burns were his badges. A real chef had scars. Marcello inspected the marks on her hands, then pulled her fingers to his lips for a fatherly kiss. "Now, tell me, what did you make last night?"

Letting them catch up, Toni sat down and put a hand on his sleeping daughter. He looked forward to the day they could talk like Marcello and Dani were, instead of this constant push-pull of rules and values.

"Toni thought the Nebbiolo was the best choice for the dish," Toni overheard Dani say, "but I thought the Sangiovese was a better choice."

"The Nebbiolo was a 2010 from Asti, Marcello. Perfectly balanced. They loved the wine."

Dani whipped around as if she was surprised he was listening. "Sure, it was a nice wine, but it was so rich it overpowered the shiitake mushrooms."

"It was perfect with the spiced lamb, Danica."

"I wouldn't call it perfect. It was too full-bodied."

"Since when is a full body a bad thing?"

Her head whipped around again and he suppressed a teasing smile. He shouldn't have said that but it just came out.

Dani's gaze was steady on his, probably debating if he meant what she knew he meant. Her lids narrowed slightly as she mentally debated a response. She wore her temper on her face. It was adorable, Toni thought. He held his breath at her reaction, but the mood was undercut by a rumbling that turned into loud laughter.

"You two," Marcello sighed. "I can only imagine what it looked like in that kitchen." The old man slapped his thigh and Dani pursed her lips at Toni before giving him her back. "You both have a point, but I would have gone with the Dolcetto. Big enough for the lamb, but light enough to allow the mushrooms their flavor."

Both Dani and Toni opened their mouths then closed them. He smirked at the side-eye she gave him over her shoulder.

He'd meant what he'd said about their meeting feeling like fate. And each time he felt drawn to her; an unfamiliar feeling since his divorce. He shook his head as he recalled the phone conversation he'd had with Ava that morning. On and on about her night out, not one inquiry into Sophia or Marcello until he brought it up.

He couldn't understand how he had fallen so hard for a woman who was clearly selfish and narcissistic. The only explanation was that he had been selfish and narcissistic too. Once Sophia was born, he'd changed, but he still wasn't sure he could trust himself and his feelings when it came to women.

Which made it even more difficult to achieve his ultimate goal of having a stable family for Sophia. Marry a woman who was a good role model for Sophia. Love could be learned, right? It didn't always have to be the tractor pull of desire. That had proven to be a trap.

Dani's full laugh broke his train of thought. She was still wearing her dress from last night, which sparkled in places under the bright lights. He wondered how she managed to still look beautiful after a night on her feet and a few hours of sleep in a hospital room.

"You're staring at her." Sophia uncurled from an awkward fetal position and piled her hair on top of her head.

"I am not," Toni said back, pulling her in for a kiss on her head. Maybe he was.

A nurse and doctor entered the room and shooed them out while they performed an examination.

"He seems good," Dani said to Toni.

"Let's hope the doctor thinks so. I need to get Sophia home. I just want to talk to the doctor first. I can drop you off at your hotel too."

"Thank you." Dani nodded.

"First we need some coffee."

Toni arrived with espresso and pastries just as the doctor came out of the room. The doctor took her glasses off and pulled Toni to the side.

"Your uncle suffered a mild heart attack. We found some calcified arteries around the heart and one of his valves gave out because of it."

"What does that mean?"

"His heart is working overtime. This was a warning." Toni frowned at the doctor's serious tone. "I understand your uncle is a chef and spends hours on his feet. If he doesn't have surgery to unblock those arteries, he won't be able to continue without the threat of something far worse."

Toni tried to wrap his head around the fact that Marcello may not be able to run the kitchen any longer, or possibly die.

This wasn't good.

"Okay, so what happens now?"

"He needs rest. We are keeping him for a few weeks for observation and depending on how he wants to proceed with treatment, maybe longer. If you need to discuss anything with me please call during my office hours." The doctor turned and entered another room.

Toni's gaze shifted to Dani and Sophia, who both were staring pointedly at him.

"He's okay. But he needs to stay here awhile."

"What about the restaurant?" Sophia asked.

"Nonna can take care of it."

"I mean the other one." Toni looked gravely at Sophia.

Dani turned and looked between the two of them. "What other one?"

They filed back into Marcello's room and Toni grabbed Marcello's hand. "We can postpone the opening. You need to get healthy. With Mamma running Via Carciofo we have no one in the kitchen and—"

"No, I am getting out of this bed. I feel fine."

"That's not the doctor's orders."

"I don't take orders, young man, I give them." Marcello rolled up to sit, then clutched his chest as pain showed on his face.

Dani flew to his side. "Lie back, that's an order. Now. What's going on?"

"We are opening a new farm-to-table experience next week a few miles outside of Milan on our family villa," Toni said.

"It's taken over ten years to build," Marcello continued. "The garden is fully grown and the vineyard is now producing enough for wine making."

"A vineyard?" Dani asked.

"Toni has been growing wine grapes and selling them to wineries for years. We finally got him to start producing wine. They are excellent."

"Let me guess. No menus."

"No menu. And only produce from the farm. The rest is sourced locally."

"Wow. You've been talking about a country restaurant since I've known you."

"That's why I am getting out of this bed."

"Uncle, you could die." The room stilled at Toni's truth.

Dani took Marcello's hand when the old man's bottom lip quivered. "Postpone it. It took ten years, what's a few more weeks?"

"Yes, we'll contact—" Toni started, but Marcello cut him off.

"No! Invitations have been sent. Ryan White sent me a personal email and said he was coming. Ryan White!"

Dani sighed, the food critic for The Taste had a blog that could make or break a restaurant.

"Dani can run it," Marcello said into her eyes.

"What? No, I can't..."

"You handled it last night. Toni said you were amazing."

Dani glanced at Toni, whose gaze hit the floor.

"I'm not going to be here that long."

"You have an open-ended ticket."

"Because my mother doesn't know where she is going after this. I'm not you..." Dani took a deep breath and said it aloud. "I'm a ghost chef."

"You are more than that."

"No, I'm not."

"I agree with Dani. She shouldn't do this," Toni said behind her.

Dani's mouth dropped. What the hell? Shouldn't he be begging her to do this?

"We invited a ton of press," Toni said to Marcello, avoiding Dani's eyes. "I'm not sure having her there would attract the type of press we want."

"Antonio Lorenzetti you are out of line!"

"Please, sir. I mean no disrespect, but we have sunk too much time and money to have negative press attached to this project from the start."

Dani rose from Marcello's side. "Excuse me? But what the hell are you talking about? I ran a two-Michelin-star kitchen!"

Toni's mouth was a thin line. He pulled out his phone and held up a familiar blog. When the Chef Can't Cut It splashed across the page of The Taste. She began to shake before she grabbed his phone and scrolled.

Sous-chef Danica Nilsson had a meltdown...

Rumored lovers...

Andre taught her everything he knows. She was talented but missed the nuances of certain dishes. It didn't phase Andre, who delivered a fantastic chef's special of veal shank.

That was her chef's special!

Hate for Andre and hurt from Toni made her legs weak. She handed the phone back to him and fell into a seat. "He's right. You can't have me there," she said quietly, handing the phone to Marcello.

"I don't have my glasses," he said, waving the phone away.

"It's not good, Marcello," Toni said.

"You be quiet," he barked at Toni. Sophia chuckled, then was silenced by a look from her father.

"Dani. I don't care what that blog says. I need your help." His eyes slid to Toni. "We need your help."

Toni shook his head, his gaze locking with Dani's.