Page 67 of How Not to Mess with a Millionaire

Something cold and wet pressed into the back of Dante’s hand, dangling off the side of the bed. Without even opening his eyes, he knew exactly what it was. He groaned and rolled onto his back, bringing his hand up and out of reach of Houdini’s questioning snout.

“Not now, pig,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep and the aftereffects of too much whiskey. “It’s too early.”

“No,vita mia. It’s not. If anything, it may be too late.”

His grandmother’s clipped tone shocked him from half asleep to fully awake. He sat up, clutching the sheet to his bare chest with one hand and rubbing his tired, undoubtedly bloodshot eyes with the other.

“What are you doing here? And how did you get in?” Unlike the villa in Positano, Dante’s penthouse in Rome was all his, bought and paid for with his own hard-earned euros. Whatever right Nonna had to walk into Bella Vista unannounced, she certainly couldn’t claim that privilege here. Especially in his goddamn bedroom.

“Your brother let me use his key. He’s worried about you, too.”

Dante made a mental note to change the lock and give Luca a smack upside the head. Not necessarily in that order.

He scrubbed a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. “Can you be worried about me in another room? I’d like to put some clothes on.”

“You have five minutes to make yourself presentable and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll brew somecaffè. If I can find any beans.”

“In the cabinet next to the refrigerator. Bottom shelf.”

Nonna picked up Houdini, who was snuffling around the foot of the bed, and swept out of the room like a queen, somehow managing to look regal and imposing and more than a little bit intimidating, even with a squirming pig under her arm.

Knowing better than to defy her, Dante threw on a pair of drawstring linen pants and a T-shirt and made his way to the kitchen. He found her fussing with his espresso machine, Houdini scarfing down pig pellets from his bowl in the corner.

“Thanks for feeding the little monster.”

“I’m surprised he’s still here.”

No more surprised than Dante. He’d meant to give the pig away. Even gone so far as calling the SPCA. But he couldn’t bring himself to sever the last remaining connection he had with Zoe.

He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is.” Nonna slid a porcelain cup under the spigot, pressed a series of buttons, and was met with silence.

“Need some help with that?” he asked.

She waved a hand at him dismissively behind her back, not bothering to turn away from the coffeemaker. “I’ll figure it out. I was makingcaffèlong before you were a glimmer in your mother’s eye.”

“True.” He leaned against the counter. “But didn’t you have to grind the beans with a mortar and pestle and brew them in a tin pot over an open fire?”

“Don’t be fresh.” She tried again, stabbing at the buttons as if they personally offended her by not working. This time she had better luck, and the machine sputtered to life, thick, dark, rich-smelling liquid dripping into the cup.

“Then what should I be?” he asked, going to the refrigerator for a container of cucumber slices, which he added to Houdini’s bowl.

“Honest.” She pointed a bony finger at a chair. “Sit and tell me what’s troubling you.”

He followed the first of her marching orders like a good little soldier, tossing the plastic container into the sink and taking a seat. But that was where his obedience ended. The honesty she wanted? That would have to wait.

Hell, he was having a hard time being honest with himself. All he knew was that he was goddamn miserable. Even makingcaffèseemed like a Herculean task in his present state. The memory of Zoe’s tear-stained face as she pelted him with euros haunted him.

“What makes you think something is troubling me?”

Nonna steepled her fingers and drummed them together, like she was trying to remember something. “Maybe it’s a grandmother’s intuition. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve become a virtual hermit the past few weeks. You haven’t returned any of my calls or texts. And Luca says you canceled your trip to New York to scout locations for the new restaurant.”

His brother had a big mouth. Luca was definitely getting his head smacked. Hard. No matter that what he said was true.

And the New York trip wasn’t the only thing Dante had called off. His head—and his heart—were somewhere else since Zoe left. The restaurants were better off without him for the time being. He was in no shape to handle complex business dealings. But he’d be back on his game soon; then things could go back to normal.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself.