Recipe For Disaster

‘Bernadette Brannigan has every reason in the world to tell her Caruso family precisely what they can do with their unwanted birthday delivery and tell them in great anatomically correct detail. If I were hot-headed and Irish I might even be tempted to have a sacrificial burning ceremony. And in the meantime, I suggest that we take the weekend off. What do you say?’

‘Ah,’ Fabio said, sitting back in his chair. ‘I’m beginning to understand. You have a date tonight, don’t you? Yet another poor innocent girl has fallen prey to your charms. Am I right?’ Suddenly he slid forwards and rested his elbows on the tablecloth. ‘Well, forget it, partner. We are going back to the deli this morning to impress on the lovely lady that my job is to make sure that she has ripped open that package and read whatever the client wanted her to see and, the sooner she does that, then the sooner we can both get back to our lives.’

Jerry hesitated, and then tried to look sympathetic. ‘Why am I getting the feeling that your usual charm crashed and burned in flames last night? All you have to do is tell your father that you have delivered the letter in accordance with his client’s instructions and we can move on. This was supposed to be a simple courier job. What happened?’

Fabio shrugged. ‘Lack of background. I turned up when her birthday party was already in full swing at a great Greek restaurant. I’ve sent flowers to apologise for interrupting her, so she’ll either thank me politely, or throw them back at me when we get there. So much for my sensitivity and charm.’

‘Much overrated in my opinion,’ Jerry said, shaking his head.

‘Research, research, research. This is exactly what happens when you don’t have a proper brief,’ Fabio replied, leaning closer towards Jerry to make sure that the waiter clearing the tables would not be able to overhear their conversation. ‘My grandfather looked after Fiore Caruso’s personal business and not even my father knows what’s in that letter. He is on standby to deliver separate sealed envelopes to Paolo Caruso and various other family members when he gets my call. But not until then.’

Fabio reached for the marmalade. ‘You know, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if Fiore Caruso set some bombshell up before she died. That could make life very interesting for the rest of the family.’

‘Um. Define interesting. But here is a piece of trivia for you. Did you know that Luca’s wife Sophie Caruso went to the same catholic school with Bunty, just down the road from the shop? The two of them were pretty close as teenagers.’ Jerry sniffed. ‘I wonder if there are photographs? Those girls in convent school uniforms? I would pay good money to see those.’

So would I, Fabio thought.

There was silence around the table for the few seconds it took for that precious visual to sink in, and for Fabio’s breakfast to arrive.

‘That’s not the point.’ He coughed. ‘We need to go straight back to work. And fast. One way or the other we need to have something to tell my father by the end of today. Got it, Jerry?’

‘Got it. Now, talk to me about that Greek restaurant you went to last night. I want to know everything.’

Chapter Five

‘So Rossi and Rossi are the Caruso company lawyers. Is that right?’ Bunty asked.

‘For over fifty years. Best in the business,’ Fabio replied with a small shoulder shrug and followed Bunty through the deli, which was already busy with customers, and into the kitchen.

‘No doubt.’ She flashed a half-smile at the handsome Italian who seemed to fill the space between the front door and the counter and block out the light.

Rossi. Of course.

She knew that she remembered that name from somewhere. Rossi and Rossi were the lawyers who wrote the contract that locked her and her mother into slave labour working for Luca for pennies when her father died. The Carusos only swam with the big sharks. And legal sharks did not come any bigger than Rossi and Rossi of Milan.

Shame. Fabio was even more gorgeous in daylight. Designer jeans that cupped his bottom beautifully and a simple white shirt. Carefully chosen to highlight his golden tan and the flash of gold in his wristwatch.

It was sinful to be that attractive and a lawyer.

But this flash hotshot Italian lawyer was not going to faze her. Oh, no.

She was the new Bunty now.

In control. Calm and organised. Open and honest.

‘Should I feel honoured that Rossi and Rossi sent a Rossi man to deliver my birthday card last night? Because I have to be honest and tell you that I am not feeling the love. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I had no idea that the Caruso side of my family would send me anything, hence my surprise when you gate-crashed my party last night.’

‘Understandable,’ he replied and crossed the floor in a couple of long-legged strides to come and stand next to Bunty. They stood in silence for a few seconds as she rearranged the contents of her bakery shelf, his hands plunged deep into his pockets of his slim-fit denims, his gaze locked onto the floor.

‘Actually I was surprised that none of the Caruso family was there in person to help you celebrate last night. Or did I miss them?’

She snorted through her nose. ‘At my party? That would be no. We are not exactly what you would call a close family. The only connection I have with my family in Italy is through some work I do for my cousin Luca. Have you heard of him? Yes? Luca came to chat with me yesterday about working with him on his next cook book but that was it. He seemed to think that his overwhelming personal charm and a much better deal would persuade me to give some of my time to a joint project.’

‘Did his plan work?’ Fabio asked, glancing in her direction.

Bunty breathed in deeply through her nose, lifted her chin and chuckled as she walked away from him. ‘Yes. It did work. Against the odds. I am actually thinking of taking him up on the new idea. Which, believe me, is totally amazing. That boy is no fool. He knew that I wouldn’t be able to turn down the chance of having my name on a book cover next to his. I need that publicity and I need the extra cash to support my business plans. It is as simple as that. So he flattered me just enough to stop me telling him exactly into which body orifice he could insert any offer he had to make for a new contract. And left with a smile on his face.’

Fabio straightened his back and his eyebrows went skywards. ‘As bad as that?’

‘Oh, yes. Until his offer I could not think of anything that would persuade me to work for the Caruso family again.’

He turned around and his gaze locked onto her face.

‘I am sorry to hear that.’ He spread his fingertips out on the counter and bent close enough for her to almost touch the fine stubble on his chin as it contrasted with his perfect-toned, smoothly tanned cheeks.

Those deep brown eyes scanned her face for a fraction of a second, his gaze locked, laser sharp, on hers.

Suddenly Bunty felt the need to make sure that the labels on the tins and packages of amoretti biscuits were perfectly aligned.

Anything to avoid looking at the man standing so close who was working for the family responsible for her pain, and totally oblivious to all of the reasons she had promised herself that she would never work for them again.

No more birthday and Christmas cards that were never returned.

No more reminders of the bitter disappointment on her mother’s face as she was rejected time and time again when she tried to make arrangements to visit Italy for a few days’ holiday in the huge house on the lake where she had grown up. There was always some excuse why it was not convenient.

And it had broken her heart and, in the end, her spirit.

All the more reason why Bunty was more determined than ever before to create her own dynasty and food business and make her mother proud.

She was going to show them that she was just as capable as they were. Better, in fact!

Her way.

Bunty picked up an escaped piece of fusilli that Fran had missed, stood back and peered at her display from various angles. In four days she had the chance to wave goodbye to her current contract and focus on her own business plans.

But if Luca could help her to do what she wanted? Fine. If not, she would get along fine on her own.

This time she was prepared to use him just as much as he had used her skills.

Even if it meant working for Luca for another year.

Bunty swallowed down the lump in her throat.

Take control. Take control.

She turned and took one step closer to Fabio so that she was totally inside his body space before looking into those amazing caramel eyes.

A small smile creased her lips and when she spoke her voice was light and soft and totally focused on Fabio.