“Oh.” She looks at the envelope she holds firmly against her chest. “Myrésumé.”
“Oh, yes.” I nod. “Ofcourse.”
Duh, man. This is a job interview, I remindmyself.
Once inside, Domenico, the waiter, seats the two of us at a table toward the far end of the restaurant. I called ahead, requesting a table away from the crowd so Daniella and I can have a decent conversation withoutdistractions.
“This is one of my favoriterestaurants.”
She glances up from the menu. “Excellent. Then you shouldn’t have a problem recommendingsomething.”
She’s perfectlysassy.
I cock my head. “Depends on what you’re in the moodfor.”
She smirks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Something superbly fattening. It’s been a most tediousday.”
“Pizza?” I raise a skepticaleyebrow.
“Witheverything.”
A woman after my ownheart.
Domenico drops off two glasses of water and pats me on the back. “Antonio,amico mio,it’s so wonderful to see you here today,” he says, his Italian accent fading after all his years in America. His parents own therestaurant.
“It’s good to be here, Domenico…how’s thefamily?”
He steals a quick glance at Daniella, who seems impressed I’m known by name. “Uh, they are just fine. Can I bring you the Italian soda you love so much…and one for your uh—friend too?” He looks at Daniella again, andsmiles.
“Sure, that sounds fine. And we’ll take a pie with everything.” I wink atDaniella.
“Of course. I’ll return shortly with your sodas and pizza pie,amico mio,” he says before making his way to thekitchen.
“Nice to get the VIP treatment. Do you get that everywhere?” she asks, with little effort in masking her sarcastictone.
“Everywhere but the Metro,” I fire back, fighting the urge to flirt. “So, Daniella. Tell me aboutyourself.”
Her eyes quickly narrow—a sure sign I’m about to get scoldedagain.
“I’m sure you know plenty about me, Mr. Michaels. I would expect nothing less from a man who just showed up at my doorstep. So why don’t you tell me what you know, and I’ll fill in whatever you haven’tuncovered?”
I allow a pause to dance between the two of us as I think of a worthyreply.
“How about you indulge me,” I mutter, my fingertips gently tapping the rim of my water glass. “Pretend I know nothing about you.” I feel a smirk take over my mouth and give myself a mental high-five for delivering such a smoothrebound.
“Fine,” she says, raising her chin as she surrenders to defeat. “Just promise me onething?”
Uh-oh. This oughta beinteresting.
“What’sthat?”
“Promise me you’ll give me a chance. Even if you discover I’m not as qualified as other candidates, I possess something that they maynot.”
I slip her my most curious glance. “And…what’sthat?”
Besides the ability to make me gawk at you as if you’re the only woman in myworld.
Settle down, I tellmyself.
