If The Shoe Fits Page 10

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cheers greeted Bella as she entered Casteleoni’s for her shift Monday morning, the Society page on every table.

  All the regulars were there: Mr. Campanale raised his cup, Tony and Rose stopped talking to smile and wave, Mrs. Angelelli—and even Joey, her nephew, was there early to take his aunt to her morning bridge club.

  Giac flew from the kitchen and threw his arms around her neck. “Congratulations! We saw the write-up in the paper.” He steered her toward the counter and pulled out one of the vinyl-covered stools.

  As Bella allowed herself to be settled on the seat, Giac pulled another one up for himself and slid onto it, his elbow coming to rest on the counter, his palm cradling his chin. “Tell me all about it.” He tapped her arm. “What was Constance wearing? Was it a little black number or did she do belle-of-the-ball? Sleek and sexy or uppercrust?” He sighed. “That woman has looked gorgeous since grade school.”

  Bella chuckled. “She had a very pretty dress on. But what’s with the interest in fashion?”

  “Oh.” Giac actually blushed—and that was odd because he never blushed. “I can’t tell you right now, but we’ve had some success. Gus has found a new creative outlet, and, phew! the man has been on fire.”

  “You are not telling my secrets?” Gus boomed from the back.

  “No, but hurry up or I might!” Giac shouted back.

  At least they weren’t arguing, so that was something.

  Hopefully this new creative outlet didn’t involve cooking. Since Gus had started experimenting with their menu, he’d put on considerable weight. And so had poor Willow.

  Speaking of which, she wondered where the kitten was. She’d brought him back to the restaurant and he’d made a beeline for the trashcans out back. Not that she could blame him, and thankfully, he always showed up whenever Sophia came around. It wasn’t optimal, but at least it kept the Health Department off her case and Sophia happy.

  “Fine, fine. I’m coming.” Gus shoved himself through the door, and flourished a gift-wrapped box from behind him and set it on the counter. “For your success.”

  Everyone in the restaurant stopped talking as Bella opened the box. Inside was the most beautiful soft pink satin fabric.

  She lifted it out. It was a blouse. But not just any blouse; there was nothing ordinary about this. The delicate fabric was cut into a tuxedo style with three-quarter sleeves with flared, angled cuffs. The neckline Vee-ed to an opening fastened with three oversize opalescent buttons and a tapered waist, and her name was embroidered in silver on the left side.

  “It’s beautiful, Gus. Thank you so much.” She squeezed his hand, squeezing her eyes at the same time so she wouldn’t cry. He’d made this just for her and it touched her more than any expensive gift ever could.

  “Black, she is no good for you,” Gus said, gruffly—because he was a softie when it came to her and Sophia. “Now, when you work the big parties, you must look beautiful. As good as the food we make.” He puffed out his chest, tapping it with one meaty fist. “I make the gift for you so people ask, ‘Who is this girl? I meet her and learn her name.’ “ He brought his thumb to his first two fingers and shook them backward in a familiar gesture from the old country. “They see, they talk, they like, and they buy.” He kissed the grouping of his fingers with a loud smack. “You make much money and we say ‘Ciao, Madeleine!’ Good idea, eh?”

  Bella laughed. It was good to see him happy and excited about something. Even though his logic was faulty—it’d take more than a piece of clothing to best Madeleine—she couldn’t fault his attitude. Or his effort. The blouse was truly spectacular.

  Bella leaned across the counter and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Gus. This is perfect.”

  Gus beamed and tapped Giac on the chest with the backs of his fingers. “My first Guiseppe Sorcio original. But not my last, eh?”

  “No, Guiseppe.” Giac kissed those fingers, then folded them against his heart. “Definitely not your last.”

  The bells jingled then and Perla’s “Dollface!” curtailed the rest of what Bella wanted to say to her two friends while everyone else went back to their normal routine.

  She hurried over as Perla tottered in on spike-heeled sandals. Nice weather signaled the advent of pedicure season and Perla was the leading dignitary at Nina’s Nails. She even bought her shoes to display them accordingly. Shoes that Casteleoni’s had helped finance.

  “Quick, doll,” Perla stage-whispered to her, “what’s Gus’s special today? I want to prepare myself before Harry hears it.” She tapped her manicured fingers on the Formica.

  “Actually, Perla, it looks like Gus is taking your suggestion to heart. I got a beautiful new blouse today and there is no special.”

  Perla clapped her hands together, bangle bracelets clanging, with a small hop in her heels. “Oh, wonderful! When do I get my new outfits?” She pushed off from the counter. “I’ll go talk to the dear man right this instant. Harry and I are going to the beach with the family this summer and I need a whole new wardrobe.” She scurried off. “Won’t Francesca just die when I show up with designer originals,” she said to no one and everyone; that was Perla. “Of course, I’ll need shoes too. I should probably try that new shoe store, too—oh, doll. I almost forgot. There’s a cute guy asking for you over there.” The word subtle was lost on Perla as her voice carried throughout the restaurant. The cute guy—Reese—was sure to hear.

  Bella’s stomach flip-flopped as she turned—

  But the flips flopped as she saw, not Reese, but someone else. Tall, dark, and definitely good-looking, he wore a business suit and carried a briefcase. Gray eyes and hair the color of steel completed the whole package, but Bella had no idea who he was. Referral business from the DeLeos’ party, perhaps?

  Bella pasted her most professional smile on her face and walked over, arm extended. “Hi, I’m Bella Casteleoni. What can I do for you?”

  “Hello. I’m Jake Adams. Reese’s business partner.” He lifted his briefcase. “He asked me to stop by and give you our subcontractor contract. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure. Let’s have a seat here.” She led him to the booth in the back corner and tried to squelch the disappointment that Reese hadn’t been the one to bring it by. Of course, it was probably better that he hadn’t. Allowed her to concentrate on business rather than the hot guy sitting across from her.

  “Is Reese out of town or something?” She asked oh-so-nonchalantly as she signed the paperwork.

  “No, just tied up with meetings and since I was on my way to see another client, it made sense for me to bring them.”

  The explanation, however logical, didn’t make her feel any better. Her illogical reaction to it didn’t either.

  And Madeleine entering the restaurant at that moment really didn’t make her feel good at all because the last time her stepmother had set foot in the restaurant had been when she’d wheeled her father in right before she’d wheeled him down the Justice of the Peace’s courtroom aisle.

  This time, as then, Madeleine coasted into the suddenly-silent restaurant like the lady of the manor, a nod here, royal wave there. To whom, Bella couldn’t imagine.

  And she didn’t want to waste time trying to. She excused herself from Jake to intercept her stepmother before she could make it to the kitchen. God only knew what havoc the woman was planning to wreak now.

  Madeleine’s eyes flashed, but she quickly reigned in her temper. Madeleine was always calm, cool, and collected in public. Always image-conscious. Too bad she didn’t pay that much attention to her soul.

  She smoothed a hand over the French twist she’d probably spent a week’s worth of receipts on, then rested it on the top of a booth. Carlo Marinelli shrank back. Took a lot to make Carlo back off; the guy was tough.

  “Why Lucinda, dear, is that any way to greet a member of your family?” Politeness dripped from every syllable as Madeleine’s obsidian eyes skirted the interior of the restaurant.

&nb
sp; “Don’t remind me,” Bella gritted through her teeth. “What could possibly bring you here?”

  “I thought it might be a good idea to see how the restaurant operates, meet the clients, that sort of thing.”

  The whole speech was said through the phoniest smile Bella had ever seen. Who was the act for?

  “What’s going on, Madeleine?”

  “Whatever do you mean, dear girl?”

  Dear girl? Madeleine had never entertained the idea of Bella being dear to her in even the most remote sense. Bella tried to figure the woman’s angle, but no answers came.

  “Why shouldn’t I watch over Sophia’s interests? I am, after all, her legal guardian.”

  She smiled at someone. Bella fought the urge to see who had betrayed her by greeting this witch. Though, in all fairness, that person probably only returned Madeleine’s smile to keep from getting struck with her metaphorical fangs.

  “Are there any of your catering clients here today?” said witch asked, a tad too interestedly.

  Ah. She’d heard about the auction. And since Staci came through the door just then, it was no surprise where that info had come from—

  Actually she thought that was Staci, but the resemblance stopped somewhere at the eyes.

  “Staci? What did you do to yourself?” The tasteful outfit her stepsister wore bore no resemblance to any article of clothing the tacky girl had ever worn. If it didn’t show cleavage, Staci wasn’t interested.

  Staci gave her sleek new cut a pat. “Do you like it? I thought it was time for a change and since I’m going into business with you, I thought perhaps I should hide my... um... charms a little more. Keep the customer focused on the little hor d’oeuvre-y things instead of the help.” Her smile was a glittery, gloss-wrapped nightmare.

  “Going into business with me?” Bella almost shouted. “Going into business? I don’t think so.” She slammed her hands on her hips and glared at Madeleine. “If you’re so anxious for Casteleoni’s reputation to get you on that Board, I suggest you think twice before making me take her on. She may have cleaned up nicely on the outside, but the minute she opens her mouth, the whole façade crumbles.”

  “But you already hired me for a job,” said Staci with a pout she’d perfected years ago. Bella knew; she’d caught her practicing it in the mirror when they were younger. “This is just the next step and since it’s Casteleoni’s and I’m—”

  “You are not a Casteleoni, Staci Fontaine. And even if you were, that doesn’t entitle you to just declare yourself my partner. I only gave you a job because you insisted.”

  Madeleine’s fire engine red lips formed her famed feral grin as she patted Staci’s arm. “And I’m insisting that you take her on as your partner. I know she’s a bit rough around the edges, but we’ll work on her. After all, she does have a degree in public relations.”

  “That’s because she’d thought she could get a TV anchor position with it.” Bella was so angry she wanted to storm off, but Jake was sitting there, watching. It wouldn’t look very professional of her to pitch the fit she wanted to. “She just wants the glitz and glamour. There’s no substance to her. She doesn’t know the first thing about catering, and the last thing I’d do is let her talk to a client.”

  “Now, Lucinda.” Madeleine turned on what she apparently thought was charm, but in reality was completely fake and saccharine-sweet. “Just think how busy you’re going to be with all these catering clients. You couldn’t possibly care for Sophia as well, now, could you? We’d just have to send her off to that boarding school where there are people to take care of her and help her with schoolwork.” Madeleine wiped a non-existent crumb from the corner of her mouth, letting the threat sink in. “Of course, if Anastasia were to help you…”

  Bella looked between the two mistresses of evil. What could Madeleine possibly want with Reese? And, Staci? She already had Luke under her spell; surely she wasn’t after Reese as well?

  “Is there a problem?” Jake walked toward them.

  He and Reese ought to re-think the name of their business. She’d vote for Prince Charming, Inc., Rescuers of Damsels-in-Disgust.

  Madeline turned around, her viper eyes taking him in quickly. “Hello.” She held out her hand with such noblesse oblige Bella almost laughed.

  Almost.

  “Bella?” Jake ignored Madeleine’s hand. “Is everything all right?”

  She nodded, both to clear it and to answer him. “Everything’s fine. This is my stepmother, Madeleine Fon—er, Casteleoni—”yeah, that name still stuck in Bella’s craw—”and this is her daughter, Staci Fontaine.”

  “Hello,” Staci purred.

  See? The inside hadn’t changed.

  “Are you hiring Bella for something?” Madeleine let go of the booth and sidled up next to Jake.

  Carlo Marinelli exhaled and mopped his forehead with a napkin.

  “Yes, I am. Well, we are. I’m Jake Adams. Of Promotional Sports.”

  “Oh, you’re Reese’s partner.” Staci perked up at that. “Is Luke here?”

  Staci didn’t want Reese; Madeleine did. The question was, why? Surely she didn’t think she had a shot with him?

  That time Bella did snort a little.

  Madeleine’s eyes narrowed.

  “No, Luke’s not here.” Jake disengaged himself from Madeleine’s clutches—a very impressive move—and handed Bella the papers she’d signed before Hurricane Madeleine had blown in. “Thanks for this, Bella. I’ll be in touch.”

  Madeleine clenched Bella’s arm as Jake left. “Why did you let him leave?”

  Bella held up the papers. “Because our business is done. Now I have to get back to work. We’ll discuss this later.”

  “There will be no discussion, Lucinda.” Madeleine’s hissed whisper could have frosted an entire day’s worth of fountain sodas. “Staci will be partnering with you. I want her to learn everything about running this business. Or Sophia will be going on a very long trip.”

  Bella kept quiet. This was odd, even for Madeleine. To put Staci on the job… She wanted something. Badly.

  Bella was going to figure out what Madeleine wanted, why she wanted it, and how to beat her at her own game.

  ***

  “She signed, then?” Reese asked Jake when he picked him up around the corner from Casteleoni’s. Yeah, it was a cop-out having Jake deliver the paperwork, but he had to make the break and the only way was to keep his distance.

  “What asinine thing did you do to think she wouldn’t?”

  “Nothing.” He certainly couldn’t tell Jake that he was lusting after their new caterer. His partner already wanted to take Luke to court for the ten grand and was skeptical that Luke would actually work it off.

  “Yeah, right. I’ve known you since we were kids, Reese. You can’t pull one over on me. What’d you do? Why’d you have me do this? Oh, and by the way? That family of hers is whacked. The stepmother is unbelievable and the sister—”

  “Stepsister.”

  “Yeah, an important distinction. But you still haven’t answered my question.” Jake quarter turned and stared him down with his “lawyer glare.” “What’d you do?”

  Reese checked the rearview mirror, then crossed to the left lane. He’d drop Jake off at the office before heading to the other side of town. “Nothing. Really. You were the logical person since you’re the lawyer. You handle the paperwork; I handle the staff. That’s why we work so well, remember?”

  “I remember that you could bullshit yourself out of pretty much any situation. But not with me.” Jake drummed his fingers on the dash. “Is there something I need to know?”

  “If there is, you’ll be the first to know it.”

  Jake exhaled and turned back in his seat. “Just promise me we’re not going to run into another Luke situation.”

  “I can definitely promise you that.”

  “Good. Then it’s your problem, man. Just make sure it doesn’t interfere in our business.”

  “You got it.”


  Now if only he could make his libido remember that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “My prince has come.”

  The singing voice greeted Reese as he entered the house. Wincing, he looked up as a cloud of diaphanous female floated down the stairs and flung herself at him, slender arms slipping around his waist.

  He expelled an amused breath at the theatrical entrance. “Hello, Mom.”

  Carolyn Charmant looked up, all five feet nothing of her, with a smile bright enough to light up an entire block for a month. “My darling son, I am so glad to see you.” She disengaged herself from the hug, grabbed his hand, and tugged him into the living room, half prancing in her haste to get there.

  She patted the seat next to her, tucked her legs to the side, ankles crossed, and folded her arms gracefully in her lap, her back ramrod straight. The perfect lady.

  He couldn’t help but smile. Five children, six grandkids, and she still looked like the movie star she’d been. No wonder his father had talked her into early retirement.

  “You look beautiful, Mom.”

  She waved her hand dismissively, but she still blushed. “You must want something to try to flatter me.”

  “Geez. Can’t a guy compliment his mother without a reason?”

  “Some can, my darling, but you’ve always had an ulterior motive with your flattery.” She brushed his cheek. “Usually it was to get yourself out of trouble. Or if you had girl trouble. Not that you had much of that, unless you call being able to take your pick trouble.” She folded her hands in her lap again. “So which is it?”

  His mother had always been able to read him. It’d been pretty annoying in high school; he’d barely been able to get away with anything. “Not trouble, exactly. Just an unhealthy interest in someone else’s wife.”

  “That’s not trouble?”

  “Only if I act on it. Which I’d never do.” Well, again. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t get her out of my head.”