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"I can help," she offered.
Her grandmother smiled for the first time since she'd arrived."You are good at a lot of things, Isabella, but cooking is not one of them."
"I can cook," she said defensively.
"No.You rest."Her grandmother got to her feet, followed by Anna."We can handle the cooking."
As they left the room, Nick turned to her."We need to work together to get them to leave, Isabella.You should have told them to go."
"You heard what they said."
"They don't know what they're up against."
"Neither do you."
His lips tightened."I can find out more easily than any of you can.I have resources."
"I hope you do.Then we can all be done with this as fast as possible.Until then, I'm going to help with dinner."
"I thought you couldn't cook," he said as they both stood up.
"I'm not as bad as my grandmother thinks.I noticed you didn't offer to help.But then, you wouldn't, would you?I'm sure you're used to being waited on."
"You really have no idea who I am, Isabella."
"Oh, I think I do, Nick," she said confidently.
He shook his head."You don't know me."
"I know you don't care if you're late to meet someone.That you take calls in the middle of a date, and when someone goes to use the restroom, you bail without a word."
To his very small credit, he winced at her words.
"I had a job I had to get to.I left you money for dinner and a ride home.I texted you an apology."
"Such a gentleman," she drawled sarcastically.
"I shouldn't have met you that night.I should have cancelled, but I thought I could slip away for dinner.It didn't work out.I am sorry that I left without a word.But you were taking forever, Isabella, and I had to leave."
She'd taken forever in the restroom because she was pissed off that she was stuck having a meal with a man who was treating her with a complete lack of respect, just like her last boyfriend.She'd lingered, debating whether she wanted to leave before dessert, but when she'd gotten back to the table, she'd discovered that Nick had beaten her to the punch.
After hearing about the amazing Nick Caruso for years, she'd been incredibly disappointed by the actual man, but she was used to men disappointing her.And that night had been an awful night for her, too.But she'd put her personal problems aside to meet Nick because it was important to her grandmother.
"We don't need to do this," she said."You don't like me.I don't like you.Let's just leave it at that."
ChapterThree
As Isabella left the living room, the doorbell rang.She hesitated, then walked to the window next to the door and peeked through the curtain.There was a man standing on the porch wearing a dark-blue uniform.He had jet-black hair, a tall, thin frame and appeared to be in his fifties or sixties.
"Who's here?"Nick asked.
"A police officer."She dropped the curtain, then opened the door."Hello?Can I help you?"
The man's jaw dropped as his gaze ran across her face."You look just like Sylvie," he said in bemusement.
Her muscles tightened at his unexpected words."Sylvie is my mother.I'm Isabella Rossi."
"Ah,Sí.Her daughter."The man shook his head again, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes."I apologize for staring.Sylvie and I were friends when we were young.You look very much like the girl I remember."His lips tightened."I was very sorry to hear about the trouble she got into, but I am happy that she has come back to Italia—to Firenze."
