Caroselli's Accidental Heir by Michelle Celmer Page A

hand over hers and patted gently, and something about the gesture made her want to cry. He was being so kind to her. Despite who she was.
    “My mom and I didn’t have much, either,” she told him. “And it was just the two of us.”
    “I helped as much as a child could. When I was old enough, I sold our candy from a cart on the street, going door to door, every single day, until the cart was empty. That’s how I met my Angelica.”
    “Was it love at first sight?” she asked him.
    “It was for me. But she was from a wealthy family and her parents did not want a peddler for a son-in-law.”
    “Did you elope?”
    “We planned to, but her parents found out and took her away. To America.”
    Wow, talk about harsh. Moving their daughter halfway around the world to get him out of her life. “So what did you do?”
    “I followed her.”
    “Here? To Chicago.”
    He nodded, the memory making him smile, lighting his face with a youthful glow.
    Memories were powerful things.
    “She was the love of my life. My other half. I would move heaven and earth to be with her.”
    It sounded as if he had.
    “We began to meet in secret, but soon her father found out.”
    “What did he do?”
    “When he realized that I would not give up so easily, he made me a deal. I could have his daughter’s hand when I could provide for her in a manner he saw fit. No easy task for a young man selling chocolate, I assure you. The day I opened the doors to the first Caroselli Chocolate store in downtown Chicago, I asked again. This time he called me foolish and said I would fail. That I would never amount to anything, and I would never be good enough for his daughter. A year later I owned three stores and still couldn’t keep up with demand. So I asked him again.”
    “And?”
    Nonno smiled. “He gave us his blessing.”
    Lucy dropped her chin in her palm and sighed wistfully. “I think that’s the most romantic story I’ve ever heard.” Tony had told her that his grandfather came to this country with only twenty dollars in his pocket, but she hadn’t realized how poor he had actually been, and what hard work it must have taken to build his fortune.
    For some reason the idea made him seem a little less intimidating.
    “Could you imagine how different my life would have been if I had listened to him? If I had believed I wasn’t good enough. Instead, every time he doubted my worthiness, I worked that much harder to prove him wrong. I think he meant it to happen exactly that way. If not for my father-in-law, I would not be the success I am today.”
    He was lucky to have someone who saw his potential, someone who cared enough to push him in the right direction.
    “Now, for the noodles,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “We’ll need flour and eggs.”
    Flour and eggs? Why would they need that to boil noodles?
    “And in the pantry on the top shelf you’ll find the pasta maker.”
    Wait a minute. Pasta maker? “Are we actually making the noodles? Like, from scratch?”
    “My mother’s recipe,” he said, tapping his temple. “It’s all up here.”
    Her first thought was, so much for this being easy. But then they got started and she realized it wasn’t really all that complicated. Nonno showed her how to make a crater in the center of the flour, then add the wet ingredients and fold it in on itself, over and over until it was thoroughly mixed. It was fun running the dough through the rollers, watching it grow thinner and thinner until it was ready to cut into strips, which they left to dry on racks.
    When they were finished she got up from the stool and gave the sauce a stir. It really did smell amazing.
    Her stomach growled greedily. So loudly that Nonno heard it.
    “Ah,” he said with a smile, one that crinkled his eyes, and showed off teeth that may not have been perfect, but were his own. “You approve.”
    “I can’t wait to try it. Although I think we made enough to feed an army.”
    “We do have