pounded another ball of dough into a thin, round crust and ladled tomato sauce atop. While his gloved fingers gathered shredded mozzarella from the nearby stainless steel tray, his eyes watched Gianna. Nothing in her demeanor had changed over the last several days, and his impatience grew as the minutes ticked by. Dough, sauce, cheese. Pop in the oven. Dough, sauce, cheese. Pop in the oven.
Damn Rory! He should have straightened out this mess by now. When the telephone rang for the millionth time since his conversation with his accountant, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Again.
“ Thank you for calling Villa Mare ,” Claudio mumbled into the receiver. After a pause he continued, “Large-a pie, extra cheese. Anything else? No? Phone number?” Another pause as he scribbled the information on an order pad. “Ten-a minoots.”
Nope, not Lucinda. Just another damn pizza order. Before Claudio hung up the phone and ripped the paper off the pad, Kyle had opened the refrigerator door beneath the counter and pulled out another ball of dough.
“ You got that, Jeeves?” Claudio waved the order. “One large-a pie with extra cheese.”
“ Got it, Mumbles.”
Lord, he was sick of making pizzas. At least the dining room was closed on Wednesday nights, which meant less work than usual. Take-out orders consisted of the mundane—large pies, occasionally with toppings, a few heroes, several calzones, and the rare baked ziti or ravioli parmiagiana for a late working employee from the hospital or university.
Only two weeks working here and he already thanked God for Wednesdays. Despite the lighter workload, though, on this particular Wednesday Gianna wore the same expression of thoughtful misery she’d donned since the morning with Hayley. Occasionally, she winced or sucked in a sharp breath, as if Hayley’s backhanded compliments and evil step-sisterly advice bounced around inside her brain with the force of a racquetball in eternal play. But she wouldn’t confide in him.
He glared, willing the phone to ring with the power of his eyes. Come on already, Rory. How much time do you need to make a wish come true?
The bell over the front door jangled, and he jumped. Shoot. Just another overweight lady, this one in her mid-thirties with three boisterous, dark-haired toddlers in tow.
“ Mrs. Melendez,” Gianna greeted her. “I haven’t seen you here in weeks. How’s the job hunt going?”
“ Eh.” With an exhausted sigh, the woman sank into the booth nearest the window. “I have an interview with a new computer company off the Expressway. You know the one, CompTech?”
Order pad in hand, Gianna strode to the booth. “That’s wonderful!”
“ Not so wonderful. The interview’s tomorrow at eleven, and I don’t have anyone to watch the little ones.”
Oh, God, no . Kyle knew exactly where this conversation would lead. Though the idea repulsed him, he could more easily stop a runaway train than keep Gianna from offering help to someone in need.
“ Bring them here,” Gianna suggested.
Kyle cringed. Bethany and her gaggle of teenagers were bad enough, but these kids were no older than four years of age. And he’d be damned if he’d spend tomorrow changing diapers and potty-training someone else’s snot-nosed brats. No matter what agreements he’d made in the past, there were some lows to which a Hayden did not sink.
“ Oh, no, Gianna.” Mrs. Melendez’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t!”
“ Of course you could. I’ll be here by ten o’clock for the first delivery. Drop the children off here before ten-thirty, and you should have plenty of time to shoot down the Expressway for your interview.”
The little girl tugged on her mother’s jacket sleeve. “Can we, Mama? Please?”
Mrs. Melendez’s glance swerved from Gianna to the child and back again. “I don’t know. What if they want to hire me? I still don’t have a regular babysitter.”
Smiling, Gianna tousled the girl’s curls. “My
Damn Rory! He should have straightened out this mess by now. When the telephone rang for the millionth time since his conversation with his accountant, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Again.
“ Thank you for calling Villa Mare ,” Claudio mumbled into the receiver. After a pause he continued, “Large-a pie, extra cheese. Anything else? No? Phone number?” Another pause as he scribbled the information on an order pad. “Ten-a minoots.”
Nope, not Lucinda. Just another damn pizza order. Before Claudio hung up the phone and ripped the paper off the pad, Kyle had opened the refrigerator door beneath the counter and pulled out another ball of dough.
“ You got that, Jeeves?” Claudio waved the order. “One large-a pie with extra cheese.”
“ Got it, Mumbles.”
Lord, he was sick of making pizzas. At least the dining room was closed on Wednesday nights, which meant less work than usual. Take-out orders consisted of the mundane—large pies, occasionally with toppings, a few heroes, several calzones, and the rare baked ziti or ravioli parmiagiana for a late working employee from the hospital or university.
Only two weeks working here and he already thanked God for Wednesdays. Despite the lighter workload, though, on this particular Wednesday Gianna wore the same expression of thoughtful misery she’d donned since the morning with Hayley. Occasionally, she winced or sucked in a sharp breath, as if Hayley’s backhanded compliments and evil step-sisterly advice bounced around inside her brain with the force of a racquetball in eternal play. But she wouldn’t confide in him.
He glared, willing the phone to ring with the power of his eyes. Come on already, Rory. How much time do you need to make a wish come true?
The bell over the front door jangled, and he jumped. Shoot. Just another overweight lady, this one in her mid-thirties with three boisterous, dark-haired toddlers in tow.
“ Mrs. Melendez,” Gianna greeted her. “I haven’t seen you here in weeks. How’s the job hunt going?”
“ Eh.” With an exhausted sigh, the woman sank into the booth nearest the window. “I have an interview with a new computer company off the Expressway. You know the one, CompTech?”
Order pad in hand, Gianna strode to the booth. “That’s wonderful!”
“ Not so wonderful. The interview’s tomorrow at eleven, and I don’t have anyone to watch the little ones.”
Oh, God, no . Kyle knew exactly where this conversation would lead. Though the idea repulsed him, he could more easily stop a runaway train than keep Gianna from offering help to someone in need.
“ Bring them here,” Gianna suggested.
Kyle cringed. Bethany and her gaggle of teenagers were bad enough, but these kids were no older than four years of age. And he’d be damned if he’d spend tomorrow changing diapers and potty-training someone else’s snot-nosed brats. No matter what agreements he’d made in the past, there were some lows to which a Hayden did not sink.
“ Oh, no, Gianna.” Mrs. Melendez’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t!”
“ Of course you could. I’ll be here by ten o’clock for the first delivery. Drop the children off here before ten-thirty, and you should have plenty of time to shoot down the Expressway for your interview.”
The little girl tugged on her mother’s jacket sleeve. “Can we, Mama? Please?”
Mrs. Melendez’s glance swerved from Gianna to the child and back again. “I don’t know. What if they want to hire me? I still don’t have a regular babysitter.”
Smiling, Gianna tousled the girl’s curls. “My
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