If The Shoe Fits (4 page)

Bella advanced further into the war zone,
ponytail bobbing over her shoulder as she skidded to a halt at the
too-familiar site.

“
Okay, Giac.” She leaned across
the booth to plant a kiss on the bald patch at the back of the
heap’s head. “What is it today? Zucchini torte, cucumber flan, or
cream cheese chocolate chips?”

Giac leaned back against the booth’s blue
vinyl and crossed his arms. “This idiot...” He nodded at the idiot
in question. “Thinks our patrons are salivating for spinach
donuts.” He shook his head. “Incredible.”

“
If they try them, they will like
them.” Guiseppe, who went by Gus in his calmer, less
Italian-accent-laced moments, gave Giac the Evil Eye before looking
at Bella. “Everyone, they want healthy food. I try to give our
customers what they want and he—”

“
Healthy donuts?” Giac shot to his
feet. “Are you out of your mind, man? You simply cannot make
healthy
donuts. The term itself is an oxymoron.” He
approached the counter, planting his hands on the floured surface.
“Just like the person inventing them.”

Gus turned purple, the veins on the sides of
his head above his hairline threatening to pop. His knuckles turned
white. “Why... why... you…”

“
Now, Gus.” Bella ran over to them
and put her hands on his. “You know Perla and Harry always love to
try out your newest creations. You go right ahead and keep making
them.” She winked over her shoulder at Giac. Usually, he was the
calmer of the two. “We need Gus’s creativity for our more
adventurous guests and your artistry, Giac, for the regulars.” She
kissed Gus’s bald head and squeezed his hand. “I couldn’t have done
this without both of you since the accident. You’ve kept Dad’s soul
alive in this place.”

Mention of her father’s passing bound them all
in a moment of silence before Giac hastily cleared his throat and
leaned in to give her a quick peck on her cheek. “And you are our
sunshine.”

Gus shot a disgruntled look at Giac, then,
with a heavy sigh, wiped his hands on his apron. He tweaked Bella’s
chin. “For
you
, I work.” One more disdainful look toward
Giac, then Gus waddled through to the back, letting the hinged
countertop fall into place, the resulting crash saying exactly what
he did not.

Bella slipped beneath the counter, arranging
items on the other side of it. She placed a metallic napkin
container on the countertop and slid a salt and pepper holder next
to it. A glass shaker of crushed pepper followed.

Giac and Gus, they were like family—definitely
more of one than Madeleine and her daughters that was for sure—but
their arguments were happening much too frequently. With the
Madeleine nightmare, Bella didn’t know how much more stress she
could take.

Giac bent down to retrieve the rag at his feet
then sighed, absently pushing the flour around on the countertop.
“I don’t understand why he insists on such… such…”

“
Creations?”

“
Actually I’d call them
creatures—and monstrous ones at that.” Giac shook his head. “Why
must I put up with this?”

Bella reached out to take the ineffectual rag.
“Because you love him. And when you love someone you do whatever it
takes to make it work, no matter how much you hate it.” That
included dealing with wicked stepmothers.

Giac raised an eyebrow. “Even if he makes me
crazy?”

“
Would he be Gus any other
way?”

He sighed. “You’re right. But you should hear
him at home. He’s getting worse—always trying more adventurous
combinations. No one will eat them.”

“
Perla and Harry will.” Bella
swallowed her chuckle.

Giac laughed outright, their little conspiracy
out in the open. “Even though you pay them to eat the food, it
amazes me that those two keep coming back. They’re our best
customers. But I wonder how much this newest batch is going to cost
you. You know you keep Perla in all her newest sandals with the
money you pay her, don’t you?”

“
I’ll do whatever it takes to make
him happy.”

He chucked her under the chin. “You are too
good.” His face hardened. “And
that
woman takes advantage of
your good nature. You really should—”

Bella held up her hand. “Giac, as long as
Madeleine has custody of Sophia and, therefore, control of this
business, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my sister grows up
in our family’s house, knowing she’s loved. With a family business
for her future.”

“
What about the boarding school
threat?”

She exhaled. “I have a plan.”

“
Does it involve cement shoes?”
Giac twirled his handlebar mustache.

Bella couldn’t help laugh. “Me ending up in
jail won’t do us any good, Giac, so no, it doesn’t. It does,
however, involve you and Gus.”

“
Us? Madeleine’s not exactly our
type, sweetheart, but if you want one of us to marry her to get
control of the place, I guess we can take one for the
team.”

“
No, not that. I want to fight for
custody of Sophia.”

“
Oh, honey, that’d be wonderful,
but that witch isn’t going to give up her meal ticket.”

“
I know. That’s why we have to
make
meals. A lot of them.” She brushed a hair from her
face. “I didn’t tell you, but I put in a bid to cater the hospital
auction.”

“
We’re catering
that
? More
work sounds exhausting, Bella, love,” said Giac.

“
Unfortunately I didn’t win the
contract. But I’m going to pursue other events. Sophia’s worth it.
But, you’re right. It’s going to be a lot of work, so if you’d
rather not get involved—”

“
Now I didn’t say that. You know
Gus and I will do whatever you need, but if only there was some way
to challenge Madeleine’s claim on Sal’s estate—”

“
Don’t go there, Giac. It’s
fruitless. And hopeless. Trust me, I’ve tried to come up with a
way, but Uncle Vinny’s lawyer said it’s iron-clad.”

“
Well, maybe your prince will
finally come.”

Yeah. Wouldn’t it be great for Prince Charming
to ride in on his white horse and slay the dragon that was
Madeleine? That would be the only time that the similarity between
her and the fictional princess would be welcome.

Thoughts of Mr. Art Sculpture from yesterday
danced in her head.

She made them waltz right out again; fairy
tales could break your heart if you tried to apply them to real
life.

Chapter Five

The merry jingle of bells rippled through
Casteleoni’s as the early morning regulars streamed in. Bella
quickly donned her apron and set about pouring coffee. Plates of
eggs, muffins, croissants, and donuts—though not spinach
ones—appeared as if by magic from the back, so Bella knew Gus had
calmed himself down and was fully engaged in his
creativity.

Bella loved being in the thick of the
community, loved hearing the latest news of everyone’s families.
This place, this business, was her sanctuary. It was the home she
didn’t have in the house she
should
call home.

Father DiGennaro stopped by after morning
mass. The Napoli brothers hopped in for a cup of coffee and their
regular cannolies, while the Donatelli twins played hooky from
third period to flirt with the construction workers on a break from
their job site. Bella was wiping down a table and admonishing the
girls on the merits of English lit when a shiver flashed over her
skin.

She recognized it immediately; Mr. Art
Sculpture had entered the building.

“
So what’s Gus’s special of the
day?” The voice behind her played like the slow, sensuous melody of
a violin up her spine.

She turned slowly. Six foot plus of gorgeous
with a strong, sculpted face, that smile—Lord, that smile—and those
eyes... It was as if the air came alive, the sunshine brighter,
sounds crisper.

“
Hi.” He smiled at her.

She gulped. She honest-to-God gulped. “Um,
hi.”

His smile deepened. Ah, those dimples. She
could do nothing but stare at them.

“
So… the special?”

They certainly were—”Um, I’m sorry.
What?”

“
The sign. It says to try Gus’s
special of the day. I’m interested.”

So was she.

Bella shook her head and tried to scoop up her
composure that was melting all over the floor. “It’s, um, spinach
donuts.”

The dimples disappeared. “On second
thought…”

Bella laughed. “I know. It takes a certain
amount of daring to try them.”

“
And an iron stomach.”

She couldn’t help glancing at his. His golf
shirt molded nicely to a very iron-like stomach. Probably a
six-pack.

Bella tucked some of her stray hair into her
ponytail. “Um, so you’re saying that your stomach isn’t up to the
challenge?”

His dark eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?
Spinach donuts are
really
his specialty?”

She led him to one of the booths. “We never
kid about Gus’s specialties. And a few people have tried them.”
Aside from Harry and Perla, the construction crew came in every
Friday to reward the winner of their weekly bet: losers bought the
winner Gus’s special. Gus, thinking it an honor, was thrilled, and
everyone let him think it was. The truth, however, was that the
so-called “winner” wasn’t the guy who’d done the best job for the
week, but the biggest screw-up. “I’ll just get you a menu
and—”

He—Reese—clamped his fingers around her wrist.
“Hang on.” He cleared his throat and slid onto the vinyl. “It’s not
like it’s going to kill me, right? I mean, spinach’s good for you,
and donuts, well, they taste good. So… yeah. I’ll give it a
try.”

Bella blinked. “Are you sure?”

“
I am.” He didn’t look
it.

She took pity on him. Some. “If it’s any
consolation, those who’ve tried them said they aren’t bad.” They
weren’t good either, but at least the donuts stayed
down.

“
What about you?”

“
Me? Haven’t tried them.” She
never did so she wouldn’t have to lie to the customers. Or to Gus.
“If I sampled everything I wouldn’t be able to fit through the
door,” she said, heading toward the front counter.

“
So what’s Adonis doing in our
humble abode?” Giac asked as she set the hinged countertop back in
place.

She’d been wondering that herself. “Having
breakfast?” A foreign concept indeed.

“
Hmmm, is that what it is?” Giac
waggled his eyebrows. “I don’t recall you leading Mr. Fazio to his
table in a quite so, shall we say, come-hither way.”

“
Okay, okay.” Bella bent down to
pick up a napkin she’d brushed to the floor so he wouldn’t see her
blush. With her composure once more regained, she explained how
she’d coerced the poor guy into trying Gus’s special.

“
Bella.” Giac sighed. “You are not
doing Gus any favors, truly, by paying or bribing people to eat his
‘creations.’ “ Giac punctuated his statement with air-quotes.
“Honey, I know you mean well, but there’s nothing to be gained by
it. He gets all excited and inventive, and then absolutely crushed
when they don’t sell. It’s getting harder for me to pick up the
pieces.” Giac shook his head. “I don’t think you should encourage
him.”

“
But he wants to be creative and
he says the bakery just isn’t enough anymore.” Bella sighed. “I
don’t want to lose him.”

Giac wiped down the Formica. “Oh honey, don’t
you worry about that. He’ll never leave you. And neither will I.
Why, you’re like the daughter we never had. We’ve watched you grow
up. There is no way we’d leave you to fend for yourself against
that werewolf you live with.” He shook his head and scrubbed the
countertop a little harder. “If that judge had been more
open-minded about Gus and I... Well, that’s water under the bigot
bridge. But don’t you ever again worry that beautiful head of yours
about us abandoning you.”

Bella smiled and covered his hand. “You two
are so good to me and Sophia. I just want you both to be happy. And
if eggplant quiche and spinach donuts do that for Gus—”

“
Ugh. Don’t mention those words to
me. I shudder when I even
think
of those concoctions. Now—”
Giac turned her around, took the dishtowel from her hand and swept
his fingers through her ponytail. “You swish your way over to that
very interesting hottie and see what it is he really wants because
it sure as heck isn’t Gus’s special.” He gave her a little push,
flipped his hands in the air, then strutted back into the kitchen.
“And I’ll see if I can get Gus to work on something productive,
like a death-by-chocolate triple layer cake with whipped cream
icing.”

Great. Another argument.

She momentarily considered taking Giac’s
advice to go chat with Reese, but what, really, would be the point?
Nothing would come of it. Madeleine was violently opposed to Bella
having anything resembling a personal life that would take from the
time she could be devoting to waiting on the woman hand and foot.
It only took one threat to Sophia for Bella’s relationships to
disappear—and not in a
poof!
of fairy dust.