“I thought you might turn up today,” Blair Carson, Sr. commented without turning his back as Blair entered the kitchen.
“Hello to you too, Dad.”
Blair smiled at his usual, taciturn nature. Not even a surprise visit could wrest a smile from his careworn features. But then she hesitated.
“What made you expect me today?”
Her dad gestured to the laptop computer open on the small kitchen table. “That.”
Blair sat down at the table and focused on the screen. Even though her dad was an hour from the city now, he liked to keep a finger on the pulse of what was happening, especially in the restaurant and entertainment industries. Her heart plummeted when she identified herself and Draco in the photo. The picture showed Draco holding her fingertips to his mouth, and more damningly, showed the expression of longing on her face.
The editorial accompanying the photo was full of conjecture and innuendo about what “something new and exciting” loomed on Blair’s menu. It made her feel sick to her stomach. Worse, the reporter had gone to great lengths to emphasize the title and estates that Draco would inherit on his ailing father’s death, giving him a celebrity she knew he would loathe.
“I thought you’d sworn off men,” her father commented dryly after she’d read the e-zine page through to its end.
“I have.”
“Then what was that all about?”
“It was him.”
“The one you met in Tuscany, at the palazzo? Isn’t his family some kind of royalty over there?”
“Ancestral nobility, but they haven’t used their title in years. But yeah,” she sighed. “The very same.”
“Did he follow you here?”
“No. He was at the memorial service for Mrs. Woodley. Believe me, I tried to put him off trying to see me again.”
“Obviously not all that effectively.” Her father turned back to the stove. “Oh well, we should see an upswing in patronage at the restaurant. Are you going to see him again?”
Blair got up from the table and helped herself to a mug from the cupboard and poured herself a coffee from the carafe her father kept constantly full. It bothered her that her father instantly thought of the advantage to Carson’s. How she felt about Draco didn’t enter into it.
“No. Last night was a one-time-only.”
Her father turned to look her in the eye. “Really?”
“Yes, Dad. Really.”
“That’s a shame. You should see him again. If only because the publicity would be good for takings. Want some breakfast?”
What? Was that it? Inquisition over already? Blair could hardly believe her father had let the subject go just like that. Still, he’d equated the e-zine gossip spread with a chance to keep Carson’s up there in the public eye.
“Yes, thanks. I’m starved.”
Her dad laughed, the sound like wind through dry leaves in autumn. “You’re always starved. About time you put some meat on that frame, young lady.”
“You can talk,” Blair responded with a genuine smile.
Her lean build was a direct legacy from her father. At least she assumed it was just from him. She’d never seen a picture of her mom, and her memories of her were vague—more the sensation of a brief hug here, a lingering scent of fragrance there. The trill of amused laughter. The sound of weeping late at night.
The coffee in Blair’s mug left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. What was it about Blair and her father that they couldn’t find happiness in lasting love? She’d lost count of the failed relationships he’d embarked upon and then left during her childhood, let alone since her teenage years. They’d clung to one another many a time, secure in the knowledge that no matter how often others came and went they’d always have each other.
Yet, would they? Blair felt increasingly vulnerable. A heart attack had forced Blair Sr. into early retirement. In fact, it had only been her taking over his dreams and vision for Carson’s that had seen him agree to withdrawing from the restaurant. He’d had to move out of Auckland as well, because he hadn’t been able to stay away, or out of the kitchen, when he’d remained in town. And while he’d been happy to cover for her during her Tuscan culinary tour—a trip that was supposed to have been her honeymoon—she could see how taxing it had been for him when she’d returned.
She owed it to her dad to see his dream for Carson’s—her dream as well—come true. And if she was to achieve that ever-elusive five-star ranking for the restaurant, she had to pour everything she was into making it work.
Which meant pushing last night’s memories and Draco Sandrelli very firmly into her past.