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CHAPTER FIVE
MELANIE
Since I was a little rattled by my latest encounter with the gruff, sexy Dominic Esposito, I decided to brighten my day with a quick stop at Dairy Queen. Yet even ice cream didn’t stop the latest confrontation with my boss from running through my mind.
“Give me two more days,” he’d said in a tone I could best describe as begrudging.
All because I was asking for a place where I could actually work. Why couldn’t he be more like his brother? Gio was a polite and accommodating model of a boss. Gio was awesome.
As for Dominic, I had no idea what went on behind those dark, inscrutable eyes. He was obviously a workaholic, but Gio had hinted that one of Dominic’s flaws was an inability to delegate. I’d already seen his need for control, or rather, to ensure that everything was done the right way—his way. I remembered the way he’d looked at me at our first meeting, like I was an irksome intruder.
Come to think of it, he still looked at me that way sometimes.
And yet my knees still threaten to give out every time he turns in my direction.
Of course our interactions hadn’t been all bad. That was what made him such a mystery. That was why I couldn’t seem to abandon this stubborn crush. Every time I thought I was ready to roll my eyes and move on to thinking about someone more suitable, Dominic had to say something sincere and charming. Like today, when he told me he was glad I’d been fired because it had made me a member of the Esposito’s family. If he was at all perceptive, he had to have noticed me blushing over that comment.
“Quit being a glutton for punishment,” I scolded myself out loud as I finished off my Oreo Blizzard. Too bad I couldn’t follow my own directions. Try as I might, I couldn’t quite quash my fixation on a man who was equal parts inappropriate and cryptic. But I needed to find a different fantasy, preferably one that didn’t involve the man who signed my paychecks. I comforted myself with the idea that Dominic had no idea what was going on inside my head. And in the end, even though he had still chased me away, our latest conversation had felt like something of a breakthrough.
As I peeled myself off the leather car seat and stepped into the oppressive September heat, I wished I’d chosen more comfortable work clothes. Everyone else at Esposito’s dressed casually, and even Dominic had been not-so-subtle about his disapproval over my wardrobe. Maybe it was time to retire the prim and proper look and opt for practicality.
“Shit,” I cursed as I noticed a huge blob of runny ice cream on my black pencil skirt. It looked like I’d been puked on. I tried to rub it out with the palm of my hand, but that only spread it around.
I crept into the restaurant, grateful for the blast of air-conditioning that battled back the extreme heat. Luckily there were customers at the front counter, so I was able to duck into the bathroom before anyone noticed me and my messy skirt.
“Melanie!” cried a delighted voice as I blinked into the bright lights of the ladies’ room.
Tara Esposito was standing at the changing station. She finished fastening a diaper onto her infant daughter and scooped the baby into her arms. Tara gave me a warm smile as baby Leah began chewing on her own hand.
“Please don’t look at me,” I grumbled, switching the faucet on and grabbing a handful of brown paper towels. “I’m a victim of my own repulsive eating habits.”
Tara laughed. “If anyone asks, just say that you were holding Leah and she spit up on you.”
“Thanks for the alibi,” I said, scrubbing vigorously. Unfortunately the paper towels were rather brittle, and pieces of them flaked off on my skirt. I sighed and gave up.
Tara slung a pink diaper bag over her shoulder and walked over to check out the damage. “It doesn’t look that bad,” she said. “But if you want to change, I have a pair of jeans out in the car.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but I think I’ll just endure the aftermath and call it a life lesson.”
Her offer was very sweet, but she was five foot ten and skinny as a catwalk model. In other words, barring a magic trick, there was no way we’d fit into the same pair of pants.
Tara nudged me. “Did you have lunch already?”
“Does an Oreo Blizzard from Dairy Queen count?”
“Not unless you chased it with a cheeseburger.”
“Then no, I haven’t. I took a ride down to Espo 2 to have a chat with Dominic.”
Tara looked amused. “And how did that go?”
“Unproductively.”
She laughed. “Come on, let’s grab a table. If Gio asks, we’re having a crucial strategy session.”
Gio was up front, fiddling with the cash register. He looked up when we emerged from the bathroom, but his wife blew him a kiss and sweetly asked him to please send over a pizza and a few sodas.
“Melanie didn’t get to have lunch yet,” she explained as she prodded me into a chair at a nearby table.
