Yeah, boys and cars, two things I was crazy over. Both unpredictable and liable to break your heart. At least when a car had issues, there was a logical way to fix them.
Thinking about kissing made me wonder if the grandson would recognize me. It was a selfish part.
A stupid part.
Dominico had to be what, forty? No…I’d been twelve and he was fifteen. So about thirty-three. Also, men didn’t remember stupid things like first kisses. And the skill of his mouth told me back then that I wasn’t the first girl he’d stolen a smooch from.
No, this was just another rich Grimaldi to avoid while doing my job. The whole clan was due to arrive in the next hour. The children, their spouses and their children, along with several cousins, ancient aunts, and plenty of grumpy uncles. I already had the pleasure of serving them cocktails last Sunday before the family dinner. And while this Friday was a special occasion, they’d be back around noon for another Sunday family dinner in two days.
While I would be here, ready to serve.
At least this wasn’t the sum existence of my life. I wasn’t stuck like Arabella. I shot the young woman—the child—a look as she descended the front steps, trailing after Mr. and Mrs. Grimaldi. The car door cracked, but her gaze was plastered to the ground. Probably to avoid tripping.
Or maybe to put off the initial contact with the grandson for a moment more? I stared at her, wondering, as the grandparents embraced the driver. Could I help her? It wasn’t the propriety that made me hesitate. It was the fact that she wasn’t my damn problem.
There was a soft burst of greeting, but I was too busy looking at the Aston Martin. It had to be a limited-run model, because I didn’t recognize it. My mistake was thinking that the engine had been in the back, but now I was pretty sure it was under the hood.
Fascinating….
I couldn’t wait until later when I could take a peek.
“And you remember our darling, Arabella,” Mr. Grimaldi boomed.
A hum rumbled over the circular drive. It was that rich bass note that had me looking.
And it was the man in the custom suit that had me stifling a squeak and wishing the ground would open to swallow me whole. I doubted I was ever going to earn my way to heaven, but until this moment, I wasn’t ready to journey to hell.
Sign me up now, because the man standing beside his grandfather was none other than the devilishly handsome stranger from The Galway Arms.
Dominico Grimaldi—Nic.
Nico, my brain supplied helpfully.
How in the blazes hadn’t I recognized him? It should have been obvious!
I cast one more glance over his hard jaw and terribly beautiful face. No, nope! There was nothing even remotely similar to the boy who I spent a few short weeks chasing around that summer.
As they stepped toward the house, I dropped my gaze to the ground, begging hell to split the earth and take me. It didn’t. I curtseyed as they passed, my heart hammering in my throat. If he saw me, he would know—
Know that I was the one who stole his expensive ass watch.
This family wasn’t the kind to call the cops. They would take care of the matter themselves. Stupid,stupidme! When the hell was I going to learn? In my defense, I didn’t expect the enigma from the pub to show up here! I shouldn’t have taken the fancy Italian watch, which I’d learned was enough to set up my future fund in a nice way. But I couldn’t resist. Especially when he initiated the contact by grabbing me!
My skin responded by burning on the spot where he’d touched me last weekend.
I brushed my hand over the spot, begging the sizzle to disappear. I did not need those conflicting feelings to cloud my mind right now. Dominico might not have noticed me when he walked into the house, but as we followed at a respectful distance, it became all too clear that I would have to spend the rest of the night dodging him.
How in tarnation was I going to manage that?I’m dead meat.
Chapter 5 – Rae
Aheadache and forcing myself to vomit didn’t spare me from the honor and privilege of waiting on the Grimaldi family. Mrs. Sanderson gave me a breath mint and told me to retreat if I felt sick again but to come back immediately when the nausea passed.
The housekeeper was merciless.
The only thing it did was spare me from having to stand in the front parlor next to the witch. I got to be the lucky minion bringing fresh trays to and from the kitchen. Normally, I would have used the opportunity to snatch some treats under the blessing of Franky but fingering my throat and the subsequent hurling turned me off to the buttery, flakey appetizers.
Between running my tail off, taking the bags and wraps of the family arriving, and staying to the edge of the rooms, I formed a half-baked plan. It was better than nothing. But it was far from great.
