Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“You make it sound like she can’t do better.”
“No man will ever love her as much as I do,” I said. “I loved her the moment I saw her.”
Dante looked away again. “What do you want from me?”
“Tell her the truth.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll tell her to forgive you, and she will. It might take some time, but it’ll happen.”
“Not worth the risk.”
“Dante—”
“Axel.” He looked at me again. “The answer is no. I won’t change my mind. Do what you want, just remember what the consequences will be. There’s nothing left to discuss here, so you can show yourself out.”
Chapter 4
Scarlett
I walked into the vacant space, the floor empty of tables and chairs, the back counter where the bar was located covered in old dust. Passersby moved down the street, carrying their groceries, sandwiches, or gelato. Pino’s, the sandwich shop my father and I had visited a while ago, wasn’t too far from here.
It was a little dark and a bit small, not exactly what I pictured for a restaurant, but that was how all the restaurants were in this part of town. In a city as old as this, space was very limited. “What do you think?” I turned back around to look at Axel.
He was wearing a long-sleeved gray shirt and black jeans, his thick muscles impervious to the cold. His hands were in his pockets, but he withdrew them and crossed his arms over his chest as he examined the bar. “A little small…”
“They’re all this size on this street.”
He stood at the counter and leaned forward. “You can only have about twelve tables at a time…and the kitchen is cramped.”
“It’s a starter restaurant. I’m not going to open an enormous place right off the bat.”
“Why not?” He pivoted toward me as he leaned against the counter, the light from the hanging lamps striking his blue eyes perfectly. He was a beautiful man, and whenever we were out in public together, I noticed all the stares he got. I saw women ogle him openly, not caring whether I saw. There were times when it got under my skin, but I reminded myself it was the price I had to pay to have a gorgeous husband…and that was a fee I was happy to pay. When I didn’t say anything, his eyes narrowed. “Baby?”
“Hmm?”
A slow grin moved over his face, like he suspected what had distracted me so deeply. “Why not start with a big restaurant?”
“Because I’d have to hire more staff to run it, which costs more money, and if I don’t have customers to support that, then the business goes belly-up. Basically Business Management 101.”
“You’re preparing for failure before you’ve even named your restaurant.”
“I’m not preparing for failure. Just being realistic.”
“Look, I know everyone worth knowing in this city, and I know all the people who come to visit. I recommend your restaurant on opening night, they all love it, reviews come pouring in online and in the papers, and then your restaurant is a massive hit.”
“It’s only a massive hit if they like it.”
“That is one thing we don’t have to worry about,” he said. “They’ll love it.”
“This is going to cost a lot of money,” I said. “I don’t want to lose it—”
“You won’t.”
“And I really don’t want to lose your money—”
“Our money.” He left the counter and straightened. “This place is too small, baby. Maybe for something casual like sandwiches and salads or a dessert shop, but not for your cooking. Your culinary excellence deserves serious fanfare. I see lots of black marble, coffered ceilings, gold tumblers, real fancy shit.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re just used to fancy parties and snobby people.”
“And I know what snobby people like—good food.”
“I think I need a second opinion about the cooking. You seem like a guy who would be happy with a sandwich.”
He grinned. “I have my own chef. So I’m used to the finer things in life.”
“I still think you’re biased.”
“What does your father think?”
“I’ve never really cooked for him before. Sometimes I bring things by his house and he likes it, but I’ve never prepared a meal or anything.”
“Invite him over for dinner and see what he thinks.”
“Both of you together?” I asked in disbelief.
“He is my father-in-law.”
“I don’t know if I can trust him. I could put a pile of dog shit on his plate, and he’d eat it with a grin.”
A slight chuckle escaped his lips. “I’d love to see that.”
I smacked his arm playfully and turned to the door.
“You know who will give you their straight opinion?”
We walked out, and the real estate agent locked the door.
“I don’t think this place is right for us,” I said. “We’d like to keep looking.” We said our goodbyes, and then Axel and I walked down the street, past the little shops, as we headed to our car a couple blocks away. “Who?”