Seduced In The City

“Anyway, Carlo closed the kitchen ten minutes ago.”

“So, anything? A pizza someone didn’t pick up?” Dom said. “I don’t mind buying the whole pie.”

His tie landed on the chair back. She blinked, but it was still there. “What are you doing?” she asked, shooting a gaze up at him.

“Sorry, sweetheart, not what you think,” he said, loosening his collar and grinning. “Only on Friday and Saturday nights and I charge a cover.”

“Why am I not surprised?” A sudden image of Dom, naked, lingered a moment too long and she felt the heat creeping up her throat. “Do you know how lucky you are there are customers here?”

“Believe me, I thought of that before I said anything.”

“Excuse me,” she murmured, dropping the rag on the table and squeezing past him. Dom might look the worse for wear, but he sure smelled good. Musky with a hint of spice. No cheap cologne for him.

Dad already had his money out. Mom was tucking a tip under her glass.

“How was everything?” Sara asked with a smile. “May I get you anything else?”

The couple exchanged looks and laughed.

“You mean I can I get that artichoke and shrimp pizza?” The older boy had made it to the door but turned back with a hopeful expression.

Sara wanted to jump off the nearest bridge.

“We don’t have time, Dillon. We need to get back to the hotel and pack.”

“Come on, Dad. Really?”

God only knew what it was in her expression that prompted his parents to come to her rescue, but she was grateful. Sara gave them an extra smile, wishing she could return their tip. “How would you like to take some tiramisu with you?” she asked. “On the house.”

The teen frowned. “Tira-what?”

“No, thank you.” The woman glanced briefly at Dom and smiled at Sara. “We’re fine,” she said, and shooed the rest of the family out the door.

Sara picked up the check and money they’d left on the table and took it to the register. “I think we have a Hawaiian in the cooler,” she told Dom, and almost laughed at the face he made.

But it didn’t stop him for a second. “I’ll take it.”

“Sit down.” She walked into the kitchen, not the least bit pleased that even looking like he’d been through the ringer, he still made her insides quiver. She should have been over him years ago, the moment she’d overheard him talking to his friends about the dance, and yet there it was. That stupid little thrill. Just another one of the neighborhood girls who swooned the moment he showed up.

So embarrassing.

She got the pizza from the fridge, while he waited at the counter, turning over the take-out menu. As she got closer, his stomach rumbled so loudly she thought Carlo had probably heard. “You want me to heat a slice?”

“That would be fantastic.”

“I’m talking about the microwave. We’ve already turned off the ovens.”

“Microwave. Campfire. Cigarette lighter. It all works.”

“Here,” she said, handing him a medium drink cup. “Come on back and fix yourself a soda. You’re going to have to eat fast, because seriously...”

“You’re closing in three minutes.” He took the cup and lifted the divider that kept the customers in their place. “You always work by yourself at night?”

She rounded the corner and popped his slice in the microwave. “No,” she said, returning to the counter. “Jeanette left at eight.”

“Where’s your pop? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He took my mom to visit family in Sicily.”

“Huh.” Dom looked puzzled.

“What? Because he never takes a vacation?”

“Well, yeah, that, too. I’m just surprised there are any Italians left in Sicily. I heard it was being overrun by outsiders.”

“You mean like Little Italy?”

“So, you noticed, huh?”

“Hard not to.” Sara didn’t mistake the easy small talk for a get-out-of-jail-free card. At any minute he was going to ask her what she’d meant the other night, and she didn’t know what to tell him. A lie wasn’t beneath her, if she was able to think up a good one. Just so she could put the whole stupid thing to rest.

A loud bang from the kitchen made her jump.

“Carlo, you okay?”

After a muttered string of curses in Italian, he said, “Yeah.”

Sara and Dom exchanged smiles.

Even after her seven-year foray into the world beyond Little Italy, Dominic Paladino was still the best-looking man she’d ever seen. It didn’t help that he was standing so close. She should’ve gotten his soda instead of inviting him into her space.

Dammit, the tummy fluttering had to stop. Now.

Dom was still looking directly at her. “So he’ll walk you home?”

“Who?”

“Carlo.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked as she made her break to the other side and went over to clear off the last dirty table. “Walk me home? I live five blocks from here.”

“I know. But it’s late.”

“Nine o’clock is nothing. There’s plenty of traffic. Some nights we let groups hold meetings here and I don’t get out before eleven.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

“Tell my dad that. He’s the one that says it’s our civic duty. Although how hosting a chess club is considered civic duty is beyond me.” She didn’t dare stop. If Dom knew he’d momentarily thrown her off balance, he didn’t show it. She walked right past him, straight to the microwave in back. “Your slice should be ready.”