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Luca placed his hand on Aldo’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks, man. That sounds like as good a news as we were going to get.”
Aldo smiled, then turned his attention to Harper. “Just wanted to take a minute to say I’m a big fan, Ms. Branson,” he said, his white teeth shining bright when contrasted by the black soot on his handsome face. The Morettis were graced with damn fine Italian genes, every single male in the family undeniably attractive, every woman beautiful.
“Please, call me Harper,” she replied, batting her eyes and flashing the fireman a gorgeous smile of her own, thanking Aldo for his help in fighting the fire. Conor didn’t know her well, but it didn’t take a genius to see she was flirting with the man.
Aldo headed back across the street, but before Conor and Luca could continue their argument, another man approached, this one with a McDonald’s bag and a large soda.
“Ms. Branson? Wow! It really is you. When your name and order came across the app, I thought it had to be a joke.”
Harper turned around, lighting up when she saw the guy, who was blushing. “You found me. I wasn’t sure you would, considering all I offered you was ‘sidewalk outside a burning building’ and the street name.”
The Door Dash driver laughed. “I figured if it really was you, it wouldn’t be that hard. All I had to do was walk toward the fire trucks.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, handing the tip to him. “Thanks so much.”
“Do you think I could take a selfie with you?” the delivery man asked.
“Sure,” Harper agreed, and the two of them smiled widely, mugging for the camera as the young guy snapped the pic with his phone.
“Wicked. Enjoy your food.” He waved as he walked away, clearly thrilled to have met a celebrity.
Harper carried her food over to the curb, plopping down and opening the bag. Pulling out a burger, she opened the box, taking a huge bite and moaning loudly. “Oh my God. This is the best burger I’ve ever had.”
Distracted by her behavior—and grateful for the brief reprieve from his argument with Luca—Conor stepped over to her. “That’s a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, Harper,” he said, as she continued to shove the burger into her mouth. “I promise you, this city is filled with countless burgers that are much better.”
She snorted. “I’ve had an almond since yesterday at lunchtime. Not to mention the fact I’ve been on a crash diet for the last month in the lead-up to this morning’s photo shoot.”
Luca dropped down next to her on the curb. “An almond? As in one?”
Harper nodded. “I needed to lose twenty pounds prior to this shoot. I only managed to drop fifteen. So, after much discussion this morning—which is why I got here so late—the photographer decided to go with beauty shots.”
At his and Luca’s blank expressions, she explained. “From the neck up. Which means all my dieting was for naught. Fuckers,” she grumbled.
“Let me get this straight,” Luca said. “You show up here, discover your building is on fire, and your first thought was to open up the Door Dash app and order McDonald’s?”
“Yep,” she replied as she ate the last bite of cheeseburger, licking ketchup off her fingers. “Wasn’t sure dinner was still going to happen, and I was too hungry to wait anyway.”
“Jesus,” Luca muttered. “Did you chew that thing?”
Harper laughed. “It’s called inhaling for a reason.”
Conor had been surprised when Harper contacted him out of the blue a year and a half earlier. She’d gotten his name through the friend of a friend, who had kindly praised him as an excellent restauranteur and a great contact about the city, since she’d set her sights on Philadelphia for her venture.
He’d hesitantly agreed to a phone call, not expecting much to come of it. He’d never taken on a business partner before, preferring to be the one who called all the shots when it came to his investments. However, one conversation in, and he’d been instantly taken by the woman, who wasn’t anything like he had expected.
When he’d learned a supermodel wanted to open her own restaurant, Conor had assumed she was just looking for a way to capitalize on her name once the modeling gigs began to dry up. He’d gone full stereotype in his mind, expecting a rich, spoiled, vain diva. What he’d gotten was a woman who matched her brand perfectly. She was down-to-earth, witty, and she’d proven herself to be intelligent and hard-working as well.
He’d been impressed to discover that she was going to culinary school, not just to study cooking but to also earn a degree in restaurant management at the Institute of Culinary Education. She was keen to learn everything she could, and after a fifteen-minute conversation, he’d genuinely believed her when she said working as a chef in her own restaurant was her dream job.
Conor had always thought she was drop-dead gorgeous, but as he got to know her better, he realized she was even more beautiful inside.
“Did you get fries?” Luca attempted to peek into the bag.
Harper slapped his hand away. “Refer back to my earlier statement about one almond.”
Conor didn’t like looming over them, so he took a seat on the curb next to Harper.
“So,” she said after taking a sip of soda. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. We’re currently dealing with a burned-out building, incompetence, and insurance fraud.”
