With a Twist (39 page)

“Help me. I
don’t know what to do.”

Vivi and Anthony’s wedding reception was in full swing in the banquet room at Dante’s. The two of them had reached a compromise when it came to the food: guests had a choice between an Italian or French dish for each course.

Natalie was seated at a table with Vivi, Anthony, Theresa, Michael, their kids, Gemma, and Sean. Quinn was seated at a table of hockey players, which he seemed to be enjoying immensely when he wasn’t busy staring at her. It was starting to unnerve Natalie, especially since it was also stirring up excitement within her. It felt different than when his eyes followed her at the bar; here they were all dressed up, and played out against the background of Vivi and Anthony’s wedding, there was an added romantic element to his attention that Natalie couldn’t ignore.

Vivi and Anthony had danced their first dance, and the dance floor was now filling with other couples, who were staring dreamily into one another’s eyes as the band played one classic love song after another. The minute Vivi left the dance floor, Natalie asked her to come with her to the ladies’ room for a minute.

“What’s the matter?” Vivi asked as soon as the bathroom door swung closed behind them, her brows furrowed in concern.

Natalie wrung her hands. “It’s going to sound trivial, but Quinn keeps staring at me, and it’s unnerving me.”

“That’s because he loves you,” said Vivi, fixing the hem of her dress.

“Yes, but—”

“You have two choices,” Vivi cut in softly. “You can ignore him, or you can talk to him.”

“Talking to him will confuse me,” Natalie admitted, catching a brief glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked distressed.

“That’s because you still love him.”

“But I don’t want to,” Natalie said miserably.

“So stop,” Vivi teased. “Tell your heart, ‘Stop loving him.’ I’m sure you’ll be able to turn it off just like that.” Vivi snapped her fingers.

“Very funny.”

Vivi cupped her cheek. “What do you want, Natalie? I mean, truly, deep down.”

“I can’t have what I want,” said Natalie, putting a hand over Vivi’s. “That’s the problem.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, Vivi.” They lowered their hands, twined their fingers together.

“Talk to him. What harm will it do? You talk to him all the time at work anyway, don’t you?”

“Not all the time. I’ve been trying to minimize contact.” She rubbed her arms as if a chill had just entered the room. “But today is different. There’s all this romance swirling in the air. I feel . . . susceptible. You know how charming he is.”

“Yes, I do. But I also know that from the moment you two met, there was an undeniable spark there.”

Natalie covered her face with her hands, sighing. “My mind feels so jumbled.”

“Then talk to him. Either you’ll sort things out, or you won’t. At least you’ll be out of limbo.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Natalie opened the bathroom door. “I should let you get back to your husband. Thank you for letting me take you away from your party for a few minutes,” she said sheepishly.

“You’re so silly sometimes.” Vivi playfully tugged on one of Natalie’s earrings. “Come along,
ma soeur
. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.
It always does.”

37

“Would you like
to dance?”

Quinn looked almost shy as he approached Natalie, where she sat talking to Theresa about fashion. So far, she’d danced with Anthony, Michael, Sean, Bernard, and even Aldo, who complained the whole time about how Anthony should have made the food for the reception himself rather than hire Spallone Catering. She hated to admit it, but every time she was on the dance floor, she hoped Quinn was watching with envy, because God knows, she herself was filled with an unjustified sense of possessiveness when he danced with Vivi, Theresa, and Gemma. She’d had a feeling he would eventually ask her to dance, and when she did catch him out of the corner of her eye coming toward the table, her heart lurched against her will.

She hesitated a moment as Quinn gazed at her hopefully, his vulnerability making it impossible for her to refuse. She stood, taking the hand he’d extended to her. They found an open spot on the crowded dance floor. Natalie could tell he wanted to draw her closer to him, but she resisted, keeping a small distance between them.

“You having fun?” Quinn asked as they began dancing. For some reason, she thought he’d be one of those men who really couldn’t dance and would lead her around in a slow shuffle. But he was light on his feet and seemed to know what he was doing.

“Yes. You?”

Quinn looked thoughtful. “Yes. The food is great.
So is the band.”

“Vivi picked the band. Apparently Anthony was lobbying for a band called the Tarantulas made up of hockey players.” Natalie pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Honestly, I don’t know what he was thinking.”

Quinn tilted his head in the direction of Anthony and Vivi, who were making the rounds from table to table, talking to their guests. “They look really happy.”

“Yes,” Natalie agreed.

“Despite quite a few bumps in the road before they finally got together,” Quinn pointed out.

Natalie said nothing, trying to ignore the innuendo in his voice as well as her heart picking up pace. He drew her a little closer, and she let him, but she resisted the urge to let their bodies touch completely.

“You look really beautiful,” Quinn said, awed.

“Is that why you’ve been looking at me all day?” she asked quietly.

“Partially. But mainly I’ve been looking at you because I love you.”

Natalie closed her eyes, trying to harden her heart. “Please. Don’t.”

Quinn ignored her. “I know you still love me,
ma petite blaireau
.”

My little badger.
He was trying to charm her, like the old days. She refused to give in.

“Oh?” she replied coolly. “And how do you know that?”

“Because every time we talk, there’s still a spark between us. I can feel you fighting with yourself, trying not to look at me. I’m a reporter, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Natalie said dryly.

Quinn looked frustrated. “Let me finish.” He drew her closer, their bodies lightly touching now. “As I was saying: as a reporter I have a highly developed sense of intuition and instinct. And mine tells me you still care.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. When my article finally ran, I should have been on the top of the world, but I wasn’t. You know why? Because it finally dawned on me that without you, I really don’t have a life.”

“You didn’t want one.”

“I didn’t know how to have one.” He pulled her as close to him as she could get, and her heart began pounding. “Listen to me. Remember when you told me I was stupid?”

“Oui.”

“Well, you were right. I was a jerk. The night the article ran, after the guys and I left the pub, we went over to another bar where a lot of reporters hang out. Everyone was congratulating me, and yeah, it was nice. But as I looked around, I saw a vision of my future. Half the guys there were divorced or had never been married because they live for their job. I realized I do not want to end up like that.” His gaze was intense. “Without you in my life, I have no life at all. I’ve been a total idiot, Nat. But if you give me another chance, I swear to you that I will never put my work before you again.”

Natalie shook her head sadly. “People don’t change.”

“How can you of all people say that?” Quinn rebutted incredulously.

Natalie was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“You were a total snob when you came to this country. Now you’re not. You had a problem with spending. Now you don’t.”

“That’s different, Quinn. That’s an addiction I struggle with every day.”

“Yeah, and work has been my addiction. But people learn to manage their addictions so it doesn’t ruin their lives.” He tenderly brushed his face against her hair. “One more chance, Nat. Please.”

Natalie felt her resolve weakening. “Quinn . . .”

“I know you’re afraid of getting hurt. But I swear that won’t happen again.
I swear it.”

Natalie swallowed hard as she held his gaze. The love for her that she saw in his eyes was so intense she had to look away. He was right: people could change. And she was indeed proof of that. Didn’t he deserve the benefit of the doubt?

“All right,” she whispered, her defenses crumbling. “You can have another chance. But if you—”

He didn’t allow her to finish, silencing her with a kiss. Natalie succumbed to it, fully allowing yearning to conquer fear. She loved this man, and he loved her. They could have what Vivi and Anthony had. They could.

The kiss ended far too soon. Were it up to Natalie, they would keep kissing as romantic music swirled around them. “I love you,
ma petite jambon
.”

She kissed his nose. “I am not ‘your little ham.’ And God knows why, but I love you, too.”

38

SIX MONTHS LATER

“You’re offering me
a job?”

Natalie couldn’t hide her bewilderment as she sat across from Anthony at Dante’s. Three weeks ago, Aldo, the restaurant’s beloved headwaiter and Anthony’s right-hand man, died of a sudden heart attack. It was a shock to everyone but most especially to Anthony and Michael, who had known the old man all their lives. Vivi had told Natalie that Anthony had been walking around in a daze since the old man’s death but that in the past few days he’d seemed to pull out of it, more out of necessity than anything else. Natalie was puzzled when Anthony asked her to stop by on her day off, assuming it had to do with Vivi. She was shocked when they sat down and he asked her if she wanted to manage the restaurant.

Anthony nodded.

“But you know how little experience I have,” Natalie pointed out, puzzled.

“Yeah, but you’re never gonna get experience unless someone gives you a shot. And now that Aldo’s gone . . .” Anthony’s voice trailed off sadly.

Natalie was confused. “I thought Aldo was the headwaiter.”

“He was, but he was also the manager, even though he never officially held that title.”

“And you’re willing to let me fill his shoes?”

“Someone’s got to. Why not you? I know you. I trust you.”

Natalie’s mind was churning. “But what if I make a mess of things? Make mistakes?”

“Then I’ll scream at you,” Anthony said matter-of-factly, “but you’ll know I don’t mean it, and eventually, you’ll stop making mistakes.”

“You don’t expect me to waitress, too, do you?”

“No. Just manage.”

Natalie peered at him skeptically. “Did Vivi put you up to this?”

“No.” Anthony looked mildly offended. “I am capable of an original thought, you know.”

Natalie settled against the back of her chair, quickly calculating the pros and cons of Anthony’s offer. Pros: It was a chance to get experience managing a midlevel restaurant where she knew the chef was temperamental but not abusive, crazy, or a lecher. She’d be right across the street from her sister. It would be more money. Cons: She’d have to do a reverse commute, but that wouldn’t be a problem, now that she and Quinn had bought Vivi’s old Honda Civic.

“I’d need to give Quinn’s parents time to find someone to replace me.”

“Obviously.”

“Can I talk to Quinn and get back to you?” she asked tentatively.

“Of course. But I need an answer really soon. I’m tearing my hair out here trying to manage both the kitchen and the front of the house, and Mikey isn’t helping any, always putting his two cents in where it isn’t needed.
Madonn
’, he’s a pain in my ass.”

“I understand.” Natalie jumped up and gave her brother-in-law a quick peck on the cheek. “I really appreciate this.”

“Hey, you’re family. We help each other out, right?”

Natalie nodded. “I’ll ring you tomorrow,
oui
?”

“Yep.” Anthony stood. “Back to the fifth circle of hell,” he joked, jerking a thumb in the direction of the kitchen.
“Talk to you tomorrow.”