10. Ellie

ellie

. . .

I lay awake for hours, struggling to make sense of my feelings.

There was the obvious hurt that Gianni had been offered the 30 Under 30 spot and Tastemaker cover when I’d had my heart set on it, but after the initial anger and humiliation wore off, I didn’t think that’s what was bothering me.

I mean, could I blame Fiona Duff for wanting to put him on the cover? He’d sell magazines. He’d get online hits. And Tastemaker was a business that had to worry about its bottom line, not just about rewarding good or interesting work.

I wasn’t all that stunned by the news that he’d been offered another reality show either. Honestly, I’d figured that was inevitable. It had never made sense to me why he’d come back to Michigan anyway, let alone signed a six-month contract with Abelard to open Etoile. And if he took the offer, I’d be rid of him.

So what was my problem?

After I’d sorted through it all a hundred times, I was left with one thing—I didn’t want him to go.

But that was absurd! Why wouldn’t I want him to go? It’s not like I’d miss him. I’d miss his skill in the kitchen at Etoile and the notoriety he brought, but the restaurant would make a name for itself. We didn’t need him to be successful.

And as for the personal feelings, well...there weren’t any. At least, there wouldn’t be any as soon as the stupid oxytocin wore off. Just because he’d given me a few orgasms and we’d had some laughs tonight didn’t diminish what he’d done to me his entire life, which was ruin my nice things for sport.

My sharp crayons. My dolls. My Cherry Princess moment. My pride.

And now he’d gone and ruined sex for me too. How was I supposed to find another guy so patient and yet so sizzling hot? A guy I felt comfortable enough with to boss around? A guy who could rile me up with half a smile? A guy who turned me on and drove me crazy in equal measure?

Then again, maybe it was good he was leaving. The last thing I needed was to develop any kind of weird attachment to Gianni Lupo. He’d been bad news my whole life, and this only proved he was bad news now. In the morning, I’d make sure he knew I wanted him to take the offer, and I wouldn’t even be resentful or bitter about it.

Good riddance.

I must have drifted off at that point, because the next thing I knew, the sound of a door slamming yanked me from a deep sleep. I sat up and saw Gianni standing in front of the door, stomping snow off his boots. His wool coat was dusted with snow too.

“Morning, princess.”

“Is it still coming down?” I asked in disbelief.

“Hard.” He brushed off his coat, pulled off his gloves and tossed them aside.

“Is your SUV totally buried?”

“ Dead and buried.”

“What do you mean, dead ?” I watched as he removed his boots.

“I mean it’s dead. Won’t start.”

“So get someone to jump it.”

“Tried that. Didn’t work.”

My jaw dropped. “So now what?”

“Now we wait for a tow truck.”

“A tow truck?” I got out of bed wearing just Gianni’s white T-shirt and ran for the window, throwing open the drapes. Immediately, I was blinded by the brightness. Everything was white except the pale gray sky, and the snow continued to fall. The parking lot hadn’t been plowed, and most of the cars from last night were still buried.

“Yeah, but the nearest towing company is backed up all day. We’re going to be here a while.” He crossed behind me and went over to the closet.

“No!” I faced him. “We can’t! We have to work today. I’ve got tastings, and the restaurant opens at five. We’re booked!”

Gianni laughed and shrugged out of his coat. “Ellie, no one is on the road today. The tasting room and Etoile are officially closed, along with every school and most businesses in northern Michigan.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I already talked to Des and Kanani.”

“What time is it? Is she still at the front desk?” Kanani was the night manager. She normally left by eight each morning.

“It’s nine-thirty, and yes she’s still there. She said she can stay until Toby or Winnie arrives.”

Toby was the daytime manager. He and Winnie could handle anything, but I still felt panicked. “What about Des? Did he make it there?”

“Not yet, but he’s doing his best to get there as quickly as he can.” Gianni laughed as he hung up his coat. “He says he might snowmobile in.”

“What about the guests stuck at Abelard? If the restaurant is closed, how will they eat?” Etoile wasn’t open for lunch, and we only served cheese and charcuterie in the tasting room.

“Relax. Kanani was able to put out a continental breakfast, as always, and together she and Des will manage something for lunch.”

“What about dinner?”

“I’ve got that covered too—Trattoria Lupo is closed today, so my dad will go over to Abelard as soon as he can get there and put something together in Etoile’s kitchen.”

“Well, what about us? What are we supposed to do?”

Gianni stretched out across the foot of the bed, head propped on his hand. “Don’t worry, I planned out our whole day. First, we’ll make snow angels for two hours, then we’ll go ice skating, and then we’ll eat a whole roll of Tollhouse cookie dough as fast as we can, and then—to finish?—we’ll snuggle .” He gave me his most charming grin.

“Gianni!” I stamped my foot. “This is no time to quote Buddy the Elf. That isn’t prop snow out there, it’s the real thing! And this is a real emergency! We’re stranded here, and I want to leave.”

“I do too, but we can’t go anywhere until my car starts and the roads are clear, and that could be a while, so we might as well make the most of this unexpected opportunity to spend more time together.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “If you think I’m going to sleep with you again, you’re crazy.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Good.” Sighing, I dropped my arms and closed my eyes. “This sucks.”

“Come on. It could be worse.”

I opened them and stared at him. “How?”

“You could be trapped with someone a lot less fun than me. You could be trapped alone. You could be trapped in a burning building.”

“I guess this is preferable to that ,” I muttered. “But I still want to leave as quickly as possible, so keep calling the towing company.”

“I definitely will.”

“In the meantime, I guess I could make some coffee.” I glanced at our kitchenette. “What should we do for breakfast? Gas station treats?”

“We could, but I asked Rose in the office what the options were, and she said we could snowshoe up the highway to her sister Mae’s diner. It’s open.”

“We don’t have snowshoes!”

“Rose said the motel owns some they rent out, but we can use them for free.”

“How come that diner is open but everything else is closed?”

“I asked that too, and she said Mae lives above the diner and has been open every single day for twenty-seven years. Apparently, it’s a point of pride.”

I nodded. “I wish I had some snow pants. That snow looks deep.”

“You don’t have to go. If you want, I can go and bring food back.”

“So that you can tease me about being such a princess that I can’t go out in the snow? Forget it,” I snapped, heading for the bathroom. “I can manage.”

Thirty minutes later, Gianni and I were trudging up the road with snowshoes and poles borrowed from Rose. The snow was a foot deep at least, and continued to fall in thick, heavy flakes, although the wind wasn’t as bad as it had been last night. Still, it was freezing cold, and I could hardly feel my nose, toes, or fingers after just a few minutes. My pants were probably going to be ruined. The good thing was that snowshoeing was hard work, so the trunk of my body stayed fairly warm.

Even so, I was happy when we reached our destination—an old, two-story house whose clapboards had been replaced with vinyl siding with an addition off to one side. A wooden sign out front read Mae’s Diner, Open 365 Days a Year. Several snowmobiles were parked outside the place, and it occurred to me we hadn’t seen a single car or even a plow on the road.

The front walk had been shoveled at least once this morning, so we took off our snowshoes and carried them up the steps onto the porch. Leaving them outside the door along with our poles, we entered the diner. It was a small place—really just one big room—with polished oak floors and furniture. Despite the fact that it was late January, Christmas lights were still strung up, shining in all their multi-colored glory. It was blissfully warm and smelled delicious, like bacon and savory potatoes and something sweet too, maybe donuts. My mouth watered as my toes thawed.

A plump silver-haired lady who looked a lot like Rose came bustling over to us, a coffee pot in her hand. “You must be the two Rose called me about. Come on in and sit wherever you’d like,” she said. “Not too busy this morning, so plenty of options.”

We thanked her, and I followed Gianni across the room to a booth where I slid in across from him. It was set for two, with upturned mugs on a paper placemat featuring different birds of North America. Mine was a tufted titmouse, which I hoped Gianni wouldn’t notice. After removing my hat and gloves, I unbuttoned my coat and pulled my arms out of the sleeves.

“Want me to hang it up?” Gianni offered.

“No, thanks.”

Mae came by a minute later with menus and the coffee pot. As she turned the mugs over and filled them, she chattered nonstop. “How about that snowstorm? One of the worst ones I ever seen, and I seen a lot. I wasn’t even sure Harold—that’s my son, he just lives across the street—would make it over to cook this morning, but he did.” She chuckled with pride. “Otherwise I’da been cooking and serving today. Sign says three-sixty-five, and I mean three-sixty-five. Never been closed a single day in twenty-seven years.”

“That’s what we heard from Rose,” said Gianni. “So what should I have?”

“The farmer’s omelette,” said Mae without hesitation. “With a side of breakfast sausage and toast. We make our own sausage here, and you don’t want to miss it.”

“Sounds perfect.” He handed her the menu back.

“I’ll have scrambled eggs and bacon please,” I said. “And a side of breakfast potatoes.”

“You got it. Any juice for you?”

Gianni and I both shook our heads, and Mae left to put our order in with Harold.

Alone again, I picked up my thick white coffee mug and took a sip, carefully avoiding Gianni’s eyes.

“So are we going to talk?” he asked.

“About what?”

“About what I told you last night.”

“I don’t see what’s to talk about,” I said evenly. “You should take the offers—both of them.”

“Are you saying that because you want to be rid of me?”

I hesitated. “Partly.”

He laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

“Always. And I think that’s what had me so upset last night. I felt like you’d been dishonest.”

“Ellie, I just needed time to think the offer through—I was going to tell you. And the Tastemaker cover...” His eyes pleaded with me to understand his position. “I couldn’t tell you right away. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

I averted my gaze so that his sincerity wouldn’t get to me. “It just felt like one minute you were all ‘I’ll always have your back’—”

“That’s true.”

“And the next you were like, ‘and while I’m here at your back, rubbing my dick on your butt, let me just stick this knife in and twist it a little.’”

He laughed, then quickly straightened his face. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “And maybe it’s not really what happened, but that’s what it felt like in the moment.”

“I get it,” he said. “And I really am sorry.”

I took another sip of coffee and tried to ignore the way my heartbeat was quickening at his puppy dog eyes. “But let’s forget about me for a minute. What do you want?”

Gianni lifted his coffee to his lips and thought about it. “I want to wake up and feel alive every day. I never want to dread going to work. I never want to be bored. I want to challenge myself to do new and different things. And most of all, I want to prove Mrs. Peabody wrong.”

For a second, I was confused. “Wait. Mrs. Peabody, our fourth-grade teacher?”

“Yeah. She once told me I’d never amount to a damn thing.”

My jaw dropped. “She said that to your face ?”

“Yeah. She said I was lazy and stupid, a waste of her time, and I’d never amount to anything.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I mean, looking back, maybe I can’t blame her, since I was always missing assignments, constantly talking and fooling around in class, breaking playground rules.”

“But she was an adult , and you were a kid.”

“Yeah. I never told anyone about it either—not my parents or my brothers or my friends. But I never forgot it.” He focused on his coffee again, like it was no big deal, but something struck me.

“You believed her.”

He didn’t say anything for a second. Then. “Maybe.”

“She was an adult and authority figure, so you believed her.” My heart ached for the nine-year-old kid who must have been devastated to hear his teacher say such mean things. “Gianni, it wasn’t true. I mean, maybe you weren’t well-behaved, but you weren’t stupid.”

“I wasn’t smart like her favorites though. She preferred the brainy, quiet kids like you. The ones who sat still with a book and actually read it. I couldn’t sit there for a minute without looking around and trying to think up some other way to pass the time, even if it meant getting in trouble.”

“Your talents just weren’t obvious to her. I bet she’s the one who feels stupid now. Look how far you’ve come.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I should thank her. Sometimes when I feel like giving up on something, I remember what she said.”

I smiled. “Think she watched Lick My Plate ?”

Gianni laughed. “God, I fucking hope so.”

“If she came into Etoile, would you poison her dinner?”

“No way. I’d make sure it was the best meal she ever had.” He grinned at me over his mug. “And for dessert, I’d make her eat her words.”

I chuckled as I set down my coffee. “Always a bitter dish. Anyway, if you’re feeling stuck or bored at Etoile, Gianni, you should go.”

“That’s just it—I’m not feeling stuck or bored. I really love Etoile, and if it weren’t for this offer, I wouldn’t leave before my contract was up.”

“Tell me about the offer.”

While we waited for our food and the blizzard continued outside, Gianni explained the idea behind Hot Mess. My side hurt from laughing so much, and I nearly spit coffee, but I could understand why he had a feeling it would take off—especially with him as host.

“Is it good money?” I asked.

“It’s fucking great money.” He shook his head. “It would be really hard to walk away.”

“Then don’t.”

Mae appeared with our food. “Are you ready?” she asked with a grin.

“I sure am.” Gianni moved his coffee mug and tapped his bird placemat. “You can put it right here on my nuthatch.”

I shook my head as Mae set down two enormous plates of food. Gianni would always be a ten-year-old boy at heart.

Our meals looked delectable, and we eagerly dug in. The last real meal either of us had eaten was nearly twenty-four hours earlier, and we were both ravenous. I wasn’t sure if that was the reason the food tasted so delicious, but it did. The eggs were fluffy and perfectly done, the bacon was thick but crispy, and the potatoes had the perfect amount of crunch to each bite. Gianni said his omelette was fantastic, and traded me some house-made breakfast sausage for a piece of bacon and a forkful of potatoes, which he stole off my plate.

“So you say do the show?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Yes. If it takes off—and I bet it will—you can probably write your own ticket after that. Maybe the network would give you that travel show you want.”

“Maybe,” he said. “The main reason I don’t want to do the show is that it involves zero cooking.” He ate another bite of his omelette. “What if I’m bored?”

“Think of it as a stepping stone. You said yourself, the money is great. After it’s over, you can invest in a passion project.”

“That’s what my dad said.” Gianni smiled. “You two think alike.”

My face grew hot. “Hey. You said that secret would stay at the Pineview Motel.”

“I did, that’s right.” He pushed some food around on his plate. “How about I trade you a secret in return?”

I raised my eyebrows and swallowed the bite in my mouth. “Okay.”

He kept his eyes on his fork. “My mom had breast cancer last year.”

I gasped and sat up straight, setting my fork down with a loud clank. “What? Gianni! How did I not know that?”

“She didn’t want anyone to know about it.”

“Well—is she okay?”

He nodded. “She’s okay now. It was non-invasive and she had a lumpectomy and six weeks of radiation. She’s considered in remission now, because her last scan showed no sign of cancer.”

“I can’t believe it.” I wiped my hands on my napkin. “Does my mom know?”

“Yes. Your parents were the only people to know outside my immediate family.”

“They never said anything!”

“She didn’t tell them right away. I think she was worried your mom would cancel the plans to go to France. She didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t go.”

“But you can’t go through something like that alone. You need friends around you!”

“She had my dad. He cut his work hours way down to be with her more, and that’s why I took over at Trattoria Lupo last summer. Actually, that’s why I came home in the first place.”

I nodded slowly. Now it made sense. “I didn’t know that.”

“I never told anyone.” Gianni picked up his fork and started eating again. “After she finished radiation, my dad was able to go back to work. He told me I didn’t have to stick around, but I was glad when the offer from your parents came in to open Etoile. Not only because I liked the concept and the setting, but because it gave me a reason to be around home a little longer...just in case.”

“But everything is okay now?” I asked with concern. I kept picturing Coco, Gianni’s mom, with her beautiful blue eyes and wide smile and easy laugh. She’d always been so easygoing and spontaneous, to the point where I often wondered how she and my mother were such good friends.

“Everything is okay now,” he said.

I exhaled in relief, putting a hand over my heart. “Poor Aunt Coco. I wish I’d have known.”

“Honestly, I wanted to tell you a bunch of times. But I had to respect my mom’s wishes.”

It struck me how devoted Gianni was as a son, and I admired him for it. “That had to be tough for you—not saying anything. Were you scared?”

“Yeah. My family is everything to me.” His tone was fierce and sweet at the same time, and my heart cracked open a little more.

We got back to our room just after noon, stuffed and sleepy. “I’m too tired for snow angels,” Gianni said, falling face first onto our bed.

“Same.” I sat on my side and pulled out my phone. I had texts from Des and Winnie telling me not to worry about anything and asking me to call them when I could, and I had a voice message from my mom.

“Hi honey, just calling to check on you and see how everything went last night with the tasting. Looks like the weather is awful at home. Call me when you can. Love you.”

I knew I should call her back, but I didn’t feel like rehashing the evening just yet. Instead I texted: Everything went fine, Gianni and I ended up not driving all the way home because of the snow, but we’re safe at a motel and heading back as soon as the roads are plowed. I decided not to say anything about car trouble, so she wouldn’t worry more.

Then I called Des, and he picked up right away, letting me know he’d made it into Abelard on his snowmobile and would handle tastings all day for guests who were stranded. “It’s actually great for the winery,” he joked. “What else is there to do here today but taste wine and then buy what you like so you can drink more of it while you wait out the blizzard?”

“Good,” I said with a laugh. “Thanks, Des. I’m hoping to be back later tonight, but I’m sure I’ll miss anything scheduled today.”

“Not a problem. Be safe on the road—it’s bad out there.”

We hung up and I called Winnie. Glancing down at Gianni next to me—his eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and even—I decided to take my phone into the bathroom so I could actually talk to her.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” I shut the bathroom door and perched on the edge of the tub. “It’s me.”

“Hey! How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t want Gianni to hear me. He’s asleep in the bed, so I’m in the bathroom.”

Winnie laughed. “This is so insane.”

“You have no idea .”

She gasped. “Did something happen? Something happened.”

“Yeah—twice.”

“Shut up! Tell me everything!”

“I will, but first, are you at Abelard? What’s happening?”

“Yes. Dex managed to get me here about an hour ago, but it was rough. In fact, he stayed with me so he wouldn’t have to leave and come back later.” She giggled. “I’m putting him to work.”

“Doing what?”

“Right now he’s shoveling the front steps, but after that he’s going to help Felicity and me serve lunch.”

“Felicity is there too?”

“Yes. My dad brought her a little bit ago, and she’s been working in the kitchen ever since. She’s making soup and sandwiches.”

“Please thank her for me.” The tension in my shoulders eased. “So you’re all good there?”

“Totally. And I think Gianni’s dad is heading our way this afternoon to help with dinner.”

“Are guests miserable being stuck inside?”

“Not at all! Some people wandered out into the snow for hikes, some people are just lounging in the lobby by the fire, playing cards or board games, lots of people are asking when the tasting room will open.”

I laughed. “Should be soon. It’s nice of Dex to help out—please tell him thanks.”

“I will, now on to the good stuff! What happened with Gianni?”

“Uh, lots of things.” My stomach whooshed.

“And? Was it good?”

“Yes,” I whispered even softer. “Crazy good. So good I’m mad about it.”

She squealed with delight. “I knew it would be.”

“I didn’t even have to fake the finish!”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

“I know, but it’s so annoying. How come I have such good chemistry with that asshole?”

“Because this has been simmering for a long time, Ell. All that built-up tension was bound to erupt.”

“I guess.”

“So what’s the scoop? Are you guys a thing now?”

“No! I don’t like him any better—I just liked the sex.”

“So why not see where things lead?”

“Because it was just a blizzard bang, okay? It didn’t mean anything.” A knock on the bathroom door made me jump up. “Shit! I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Be safe.”

I ended the call and pulled the door open. Gianni stood there with his hair matted and mussed from his winter hat and maybe the pillow. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand through it. “I drank too much coffee. I need to use the bathroom.”

“It’s fine. I was just talking to Winnie.”

“In there?” He cocked one brow.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” I slipped past him into the room.

“Everything okay at work?”

“Yes. Have you heard from the towing company again?”

He shook his head. “No. They said they’d call me later this afternoon.”

“Okay.” I glanced at the window. “Should we try to start it again?”

“No!” he said with such vehemence that it startled me. “I mean, I’ll try it again in a minute. I don’t want you to have to go outside.” He shut the bathroom door.

After one more hopeless look out the window—the snowpocalypse raged on—I plugged my phone in and flopped into bed. When Gianni came out of the bathroom, he put all his winter gear on again and went outside. A few minutes later, he came back in and shook his head.

“Still dead?” I asked, stifling a yawn.

“Still dead.” He took off his stuff again and looked at his phone. “And no call from the towing company. Sorry.”

“Whatever.” I sighed and plumped up my pillow before falling back and staring up at the ceiling. “I’m giving up on this day. And this week. Maybe this year.”

“It’s only January.” Gianni lay on his side, facing me, head propped in his hand.

“I know. But nothing is going right so far.”

“Stop it.” He pushed some hair off my face. “The blizzard is out of your control, and Fiona Duff is just an editor. Who even reads magazines anymore? You can do bigger and better things.”

I closed my eyes, folding my hands on my stomach. “It’s just embarrassing.”

“What is?”

“To swing and miss.”

“But better than not swinging at all, right?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Ellie, it is.” He took my hand. “Trust me. No one hits a home run off every pitch. This wasn’t your pitch.”

“My mother does.”

“Huh?”

I exhaled, annoyed with myself for what I’d just admitted. “My mother does everything right the first time, and everything just comes easy to her. Sometimes I feel like I can’t even be related to her, let alone her only daughter. She’s perfect.”

“Ellie, you are one hundred percent your mother’s daughter.” He linked his fingers with mine. “And no one is perfect—although you’re pretty damn close.”

“Stop it.”

“I’m serious. You’re too hard on yourself, but you’re beautiful and great at your job. You’re smart and professional. You’re creative and loyal and you work your ass off. You can talk to anyone, probably in two languages. And in addition to all that, turns out you’re an amazing fuck!”

I laughed, even though I didn’t want to. “Thanks.”

“You are destined to do big things, and Fiona Duff is going to kick herself for not getting you in her magazine when she could.”

“I wish I hadn’t told my mother about Fiona Duff. She already called me this morning wanting to know how the tasting went.”

“It went fucking great! You sold a ton of wine and everyone there raved about the bottles you brought. Your parents are in France because they trust you, as they should, to be the face and voice of Abelard Vineyards while they’re away. It’s like they left their baby in your hands.”

“I guess.” I yawned again, suddenly exhausted. “Why am I so tired?”

“We were up all night.”

“Oh yeah.” A tiny smile tugged at my lips.

He moved a little closer to me and draped an arm over my waist. It felt so good I let him leave it there as I dozed off.