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THE FUTURE BRIDE was the happiest person in the Wildwood event room, but Grace was the most pampered. She sat at a table close to the fireplace, her legs resting on the seat of another chair, her narrow skirt tucked primly over her knees. On one foot she wore a golden tan suede knee-high boot. On the other was the decidedly unfashionable walking boot, with one of Nico’s white athletic socks underneath it to keep her toes warm.
Nico Vitelli hovered over her, something that did not go unnoticed by the staff attending the Christmas brunch. Between Nico’s interesting behavior and the news of Noelle’s wedding, there was plenty for the employees of the lodge to discuss over coffee and plates piled high with food. Much to everyone’s delight, Nico had arranged a sumptuous buffet. Grace made sure the presents were piled underneath the Christmas tree and a member of the housekeeping staff had a fire burning in the fireplace.
Those who were working the morning shift took time out to have a cup of coffee and a bite of food, wish everyone a merry Christmas and open their gifts. Those on later shifts stayed longer to visit. Because the lodge was too busy in December to have a big Christmas party, the owners held an enormous outdoor party in June for the staff and their families. Grace had organized the Secret Santa brunch when she was hired at the lodge and it had quickly become a holiday tradition.
Thanks to Grace, the background music was a rousing New Orleans Christmas compilation. Patsy had agreed to hold off on Bing Crosby until after one o’clock, but only because Grace was on crutches and therefore an object of pity.
Patsy was bursting with questions, so the second Nico returned to the kitchen, she leaned closer. “Okay, tell me everything. What’s his house like? It’s the big white one about half a mile down the street, right? With the big porch?”
“I didn’t notice the porch, but the house is old and big and gorgeous.” She took a bite of a cinnamon roll. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt, would it?
“And where did you sleep? Did he make you dinner?”
“I slept in the guest room. He bought me candy. And made me breakfast. And served me coffee in bed.” She didn’t want to admit she’d enjoyed every minute. She didn’t want her friend to think she was crushing on the Hollywood chef. “By the way, why did you pack the granny gown instead of my pajamas?”
“In case you were in a cast. Can’t get pants on over a cast, you know.”
“I never thought of that.”
“You’ve never had a kid with a broken leg. I looked for something silk, with lace, but all you had were jogging pants and T-shirts.”
“I like silk and lace,” Grace sputtered. “But it’s winter. Silk and lace are stored with my summer things.”
Patsy sighed. “Of course they are.”
“How many calories do you think there are in one of these?” She held up a star-shaped sugar cookie frosted with pink-and-yellow icing.
“Zero. It’s Christmas. Calories don’t count. Were you surprised when you got Julie Barrett’s phone call?”
“I was thrilled.” Grace smiled. “It was absolutely perfect.”
“This is a nice turn of events.” Patsy took a bite of a star-shaped cookie. “Noelle deserves something good.”
“It’s going to be fun to put this together. This morning I showed her everything I had planned and she was thrilled with it all. She said she felt like she’d won the lottery. I left a message for Julie to tell her how kind that was.” Grace wriggled in her seat, trying to ease a cramp in her calf.
“What’s wrong?”
“The darn thing hurts more than I thought it would,” she admitted. “It’s just a simple sprain, but the doctor said it could be uncomfortable for quite a while.”
“I’m sorry,” Patsy said. “I know I’ve teased you about going home with Nico, but this really is a bad time to be limping around on crutches, even with Mr. Hollywood over there helping you out.” They both watched Nico laughing with two blushing housemaids. “But at least the wedding was all planned. And if you have a lot of running around to do, I can take care of it for you.”
“Thanks. I can put together the decorations while I’m sitting down. Noelle said she’d help in any way she can, but she has a lot of things to pull together in two days.”
“She told me she had the dress, though, so that’s one of the big things crossed off her list.”
They saw Noelle and her son enter the room. Josh whispered something to his mother and then made a beeline for the buffet table. Noelle approached Nico, who seemed to be taking the role of host seriously.
“He’s so darn cute. I’ve never seen a boy who eats so much, but then again, I raised a girl,” Patsy commented.
“Noelle says all of his friends are like that.” She wondered what it would be like to raise a son by herself. But now Noelle and Josh had Ted, and the Green Beret appeared to be the kind of man a boy could look up to. They watched as Nico and Noelle talked for a moment. He gave her a quick hug and then turned to Grace and smiled.
“Please tell me he cooked for you,” Patsy pleaded. “I have to know.”
“He did.” And now he was heading toward them.
“So you and George Clooney have something in common,” Patsy teased.
“Who would have guessed?’
Nico, carrying a cup of coffee, joined them at the table. His white chef’s jacket made him look terribly sexy, in a television star kind of way. He plopped into the empty chair next to Grace.
“Good morning, Patsy.” He looked at the open box in front of her. “What’d you get?”
“Shower gel. Love it.”
He turned to Grace. “Whose name did you have?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Sure you can. I had Carol, in Housekeeping. I bought her gourmet birdseed. She has parakeets.”
Impressed, Grace had to ask, “Does ten dollars buy a lot of fancy birdseed?”
“It does, surprisingly.”
Patsy looked fascinated. “And you knew she had parakeets because...?”
“I went to school with her husband. I ran into him at the pet store. Al has a corn allergy.”
“Who’s Al?”
“His dog,” Grace told her.
“Oh. I didn’t know dogs could have allergies.”
“It gives them skin conditions. Here’s your gift,” Nico said, setting a silver gift bag in front of Grace. “It was under the tree, in the back.”
“Thank you.” She’d meant to go over and find her gift, but the thought of hobbling over there on crutches had stopped her.
“Are you going to open it?”
“Grace always saves hers,” Patsy said.
“I like to open gifts on Christmas morning.” She savored the presents tucked under her little tree. Her father would send a check, but her aunt’s and cousin’s gifts were already there, waiting to be opened. She would add this pretty silver bag to the others. The tag dangling from the silver ribbon had Grace printed on it in a woman’s handwriting. “Did you cheat again and take my name, Pats?”
“Nope.” She chuckled. “I cheated and took Noelle’s.”
“Patsy is in charge of name distribution,” Grace told Nico. “She volunteers every year so she can pick who she wants to give a gift to.”
“And then it’s random,” Patsy insisted. “Totally up to fate.”
Hmm. Fate had assigned Grace the challenge of buying a gift for Nico. With the stipulation that a gift could cost no less than five dollars and no more than ten, she’d struggled to come up with something remotely appropriate for a man who cooked professionally. She’d opted for a practical gift instead. Patsy had set her up and she knew it.
“Where’s yours?” Grace asked. What had he thought of the telescoping ice scraper for his car? It was difficult to wrap, so she’d covered it in red tissue paper, tied a bow and a name tag on it and stored it in her office for the past week. She’d asked Patsy to sneak it into the room and prop it up near the tree.
“My fancy snow-removal tool is in my office where no one can steal it.” He grinned. “I guess someone assumes I’m not prepared for winter.”
“Or wants to make sure you’re safe,” Patsy suggested.
“Or saw you cleaning your windshield with a scraper from the dollar store,” Grace added.
“Come to think of it, you did see me doing that once,” he said. “And you loaned me yours. So thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s from me,” she said, but she smiled at him.
“True.” He pushed the silver bag closer to her. “Open it. I can’t stand the suspense.”
It wasn’t from Nico, thank goodness. Patsy hadn’t gone so far as to arrange that, which was a relief. He’d bought birdseed.
“I have something for you,” her friend said. “You can take that home and add it to your pile.”
“Don’t you think it’s more fun to wait?”
“Sometimes,” Nico said. “When you don’t have any other choice.”
She lifted the tissue from the top of the bag and pulled out a fluffy knit scarf composed of blended shades of aquamarine and light blue.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!”
Patsy agreed, touching the wool. “It feels like alpaca. Or mohair?”
“I don’t know,” Grace said, “but it’s so soft.”
“And matches your eyes,” Nico declared. “Are you sure you don’t have a secret admirer? Other than me, I mean.”
“Stop teasing,” she said, fingering the scarf. “It looks handmade.”
“Someone must have made it especially for you,” Patsy said, shooting Nico a suspicious look.
He ignored her. “Aren’t you glad you opened it? You can wear it tonight when I drive you home.”
“Home to my place,” Grace said.
“Home to mine,” he countered. “We have a wedding to organize, remember?”
“No, we don’t. It’s all done. We can finalize the details later this afternoon.” She intended to dip ornaments in glitter and assemble the lights in the canning jars while she kept her foot elevated. The darn thing had already begun to ache more than she thought it would. Spending another night being pampered by Nico sounded more tempting than she wanted to admit to herself.
“Al will be heartbroken.”
“There is one thing you two might need to consider,” Patsy interjected.
“What?”
“A bridal shower.”
“A bridal shower?” Grace hadn’t even thought about something like that for this last-minute wedding, but why not? “When?”
“Tomorrow night,” Patsy said. “Noelle’s friends on staff have been talking. You know how close they are. We could invite Noelle’s and Ted’s friends, plus some of the family. They wondered if they could hold it here. A couples thing. They talked to me about it last night because they didn’t want to bother you until they knew you were okay.”
“This room is available,” Grace said, considering the possibility. “It was originally reserved for the rehearsal dinner.”
“The ex-groom said he hoped the preparations wouldn’t go to waste,” Patsy said.
“Yes. I got that message,” Nico replied. “ Mason wanted Ted and Noelle to have whatever couldn’t be refunded.”
“So we use Wildwood for a couples shower?” Grace saw Noelle and her son near the Christmas tree. Josh found a present with his name on it—Grace had made sure there would be something for him—and held it up to his mother. “If Noelle and her fiancé agree.”
“Or we could surprise them,” Nico suggested.
Patsy nodded. “I think her friends would like that idea.”
“Well,” Nico drawled, looking at Grace. “The romance continues.”
CHAPTER SIX
“YOU MISSED THE MOVIE,” Nico said, stepping into Grace’s office. He stopped, taking in the rows of red ornaments covering her desk and the folding table opened to its six-foot length. Grace sat with her leg propped up on a metal folding chair. She was attaching something to a jar lid with white duct tape.
“The snowboarding preview? Was it good?”
“I looked in a few times. The crowd was certainly into it.” He came closer. “What are you doing?”
“Putting batteries in two dozen sets of lights.” She held up a plastic box. “This holds the batteries. Then I tape one to the underside of the canning jar lid and put the lights in the jar. When they’re turned on they make a pretty decoration.”
“These are for the wedding, I assume?” She looked tired. And she had silver glitter on her chin and her right cheek. He suspected she was hurting, too. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms, haul her out of the office and put her to bed, where he would tuck pillows around her and feed her. Chicken medallions sautéed in white wine, with capers. A little pasta, perhaps.
“Yes. I spent the afternoon fixing the ornaments.”
“I see that.” He eyed the rows of glittered balls. “Don’t you have any help? I thought you had an assistant.” He was sure he’d seen a tall young woman following Grace around, assembling floral arrangements and guiding guests to various events.
“Just part-time. She’s in college and she went to Mexico for the holidays.”
“Not good timing.”
“I didn’t mind. After the wedding, the rest of the holidays will be fairly quiet until New Year’s Eve. Then I have a wedding in the afternoon and one in the evening, remember? Both are fairly small. I’d offer you a seat, but—”
“You can have one of my interns,” Nico said, frowning at the pain in those beautiful eyes of hers. “Jilly is never going to be a chef. She cried twice today, so I think she’d jump at the chance to, uh, light up jars.”
“You made her cry?”
“Of course not.” He was taken aback. “Not all television chefs scream at their employees. I may have lost it a few times with idiot guests, but never with the people who work for me. Jilly is just overwhelmed, I think. She’ll do fine in her own kitchen at home. Or maybe with a small catering business. She’d jump at the chance to get off the line.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he assured her. “And the kitchen will be a better place without her. She’s yours, but only if you will quit this madness and come home. It’s after eight, dinner service has wound down and I’m free to get out of here.”
She hesitated, just as he knew she would, but he was prepared.
“We’re both tired, Grace. And all your stuff is still at my house. Patsy brought over your Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday outfits.” He didn’t need to add that she was in pain, because he could see from her face that she was tempted to return to his house, where there were no stairs and that big guest bedroom awaited. He’d already put on his jacket—he was ready to get out of there for the night.
“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” She sighed. “Patsy shouldn’t have assumed I’d be staying with you for more than one night.”
He wanted to laugh, but he managed to control himself. “It’s my fault you hurt yourself.”
“I blame the shoes.”
He shrugged. “Come on, sweetheart.” He retrieved her crutches from where they leaned against the wall by the door. “Gather your things together and I’ll bring you to the car.”
“I guess it really is easier this way.” She winced as she moved her foot from the chair.
“It is,” he agreed, carefully avoiding the ornaments as she stepped around the desk. “We can plan the shower tonight over dinner.”
She groaned.
“What?” he asked. “You don’t want to do the shower? Or is dinner a bad thing?”
“Dinner is a very bad thing.” She sighed again. “I love your cooking.”
“I’m glad. So what’s the problem?” He lifted the blue scarf from its bag and placed it around her neck.
“Calories,” she said. “Lots and lots of calories.”
“Olive oil is good for you.” He smiled down into her blue eyes. “And you don’t have to worry about calories.”
“You only think that because I do worry about calories,” she pointed out. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” She had the most gorgeous skin. The occasional dot of red glitter made her look like a Christmas ornament.
“Never mind.” The pink in her cheeks deepened.
“Like I want to kiss you?”
She gave him that little frown, the one that he found so intriguing. She thought it hid her feelings, but he had learned to see through it. He couldn’t resist leaning closer to touch his lips to hers for just a moment. A brief, satisfying moment.
His intentions were honorable, the kiss declared.
She was his, the kiss said.
Everything was right in the world, the kiss proclaimed.
Nico backed away as if nothing had happened.
“Is any of this stuff going back to the house with us?” He was pleased that he sounded so casual and normal when all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and kiss her for a week. Or a month. Maybe a year would be long enough.
“No.” She cleared her throat and stared up at him for a long moment. “I’m done. For now.”
“Great.” He lifted her coat from its hook behind the door. “I had one of the kids bring my car around to the front.”
“You really think ahead.” She stood and held on to her desk.
“I do,” he confessed. “Sometimes too much.”
“Well,” she said, putting her arms in the sleeves of the coat as he held it. “I would think that was a good thing. As a chef.”
“I like to be prepared,” he said. “To know I have everything I need when I want to cook. And then sometimes there’s the challenge of having only a few items and needing to make a meal out of them. Do you cook, Grace?”
“I’m the queen of casseroles,” she said, surprising him. “I learned early on that if I didn’t make dinner I wouldn’t eat anything but takeout or frozen fish sticks.”
“Your father wasn’t home?”
“He was dating. At first I thought he was just lonely. I moved in with him after my mother died, but I was in sixth grade and I wasn’t the best company.”
Nico thought of his niece, a sensitive child around the same age. He couldn’t imagine her father leaving her alone while he ran after women. “And then?”
She picked up her huge bag and turned. “What?”
“You said ‘at first,’” he explained, scooping her into his arms. “At first you thought he was lonely. What happened?”
“I felt sorry for him. And for myself. He’d take me to my aunt’s on weekends, which was fine with me. I realized he just didn’t have much interest in me. I hadn’t even seen him that much when my mother was alive. My aunt told me he was a fool.”
“I think I’d like your aunt.” He stopped at the door so she could flick the lights off.
“She is a very blunt, very kind person. Everyone loves her.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting her. Has she been to the restaurant?”
“Several times,” she said. “But that was before you came.”
“When she comes again I’ll make her something special.”
Grace didn’t protest as he walked down the hall with her in his arms. Several guests stared and smiled. The woman at the front desk waved. An incoming guest held the front door open for them. In minutes he’d tucked her into the front seat, driven her to his house and carried her into his kitchen.
Nico felt positively heroic. Now all he had to do was figure out how to convince Grace to stay forever.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AL SMILED AT HER.
Nico pampered her.
The wine in her glass warmed her.
Oh, my. The man was dangerous. That kiss, well, she’d yet to put it out of her mind. He’d surprised her, and she’d surprised herself by how much that brief, intimate contact had affected her. She’d had to pretend it was nothing, of course, as he had. And now, with aching foot propped up on a chair, Grace watched the most handsome man she had ever seen—well, apart from Bradley Cooper—fix dinner. It was late, after nine o’clock, but he seemed to have limitless energy. On his television show he’d created a whirlwind of enthusiastic food preparations—chopping, slicing, tossing things into pans and hauling dishes out of immaculate ovens, all while he talked and explained and gave measurements.
Why had he left Hollywood, or wherever it was in California that these things were taped? She’d asked him yesterday, but he hadn’t answered the question. Grace reached down and patted Al’s head. “What are you making?”
“Something light,” he said. “Chicken medallions. With wine and lemon. You won’t have to obsess over calories. And you can skip dessert.”
“Dessert?” Do not think about dessert, she told herself. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since the Santa brunch, deciding it was safer to sip herbal tea at her desk and avoid Marie’s afternoon cookie offering.
“My mother left another platter of sugar cookies. She and the kids decorated them today. They’re for Christmas Eve, but she’ll never know if we eat a few.”
“She sounds like a wonderful grandmother.”
“She is.”
“Why did you come back? Was it to help your family?”
He took a sip of wine, put a lid on the pan of chicken and walked over to the table, where he pulled out a chair and glanced at his watch. “We’ll eat in just a few minutes, I promise.”
“Sorry, it’s none of my business,” Grace said. “Tell me about your nieces and nephew.”
“I came home,” he said, fiddling with the stem of his wineglass, “because I missed them.”
“You were homesick?” She tried to hide her surprise.
He winced. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s the truth.” Then he looked at her, the expression in his dark eyes unreadable. “What’s your definition of success, Grace?”
“A successful life or a successful job?”
“Life.”
She thought about that for a long moment. “To be financially secure, I suppose. And I’d like to have a family.” To love the same man until the day she died. To be a good mother. To surround herself with love.
“Are you happy with your work?”
“I love it. Don’t you love yours?”
He nodded. “I do, sweetheart. But California was not where I wanted to be.” Nico looked embarrassed. He reached over and caressed her hand but didn’t seem to realize he’d done it. “I had it all. A little fame, a lot of money, people catering to my every need. Most people’s definition of success, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And then my show was canceled. That should have devastated me.”
“And it didn’t?”
He grinned. “I was thrilled. I bought a very expensive bottle of champagne and drank it with Al at my feet wagging his tail. I told him we were going home and I swear he knew what I was saying.”
He looked at the dog, who whined and wagged his tail.
“He wants dinner, too,” Grace said.
“He cries and whines like that no matter what I’m cooking. He loves pasta.” Nico shook his head. “He loves anything I put on a plate.”
“So you left Hollywood?” she prompted. She’d always thought he’d come home in disgrace, having lost his shot at the big time.
“I realized I no longer wanted to be in LA. I wanted to be around my family. I wanted to cook in my own restaurant. I wanted to train kids to work in the kitchen. And I missed skiing.” He hopped up and returned to the stove to lift the lid on the pan. “Ah,” he said with satisfaction. “You’re gonna love this. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” She watched entranced as he arranged the food on two plates, then chopped food for Al’s bowl. She waited for him to return to the table before asking the obvious question.
“So,” she said, inhaling the delicious aroma of lemon. He’d sprinkled freshly grated Parmesan on the buttered penne and arranged steamed asparagus to accent the chicken medallions. “This looks fantastic.”
“Thank you. More wine?” He lifted the bottle.
“No, thank you.” She placed the white cloth napkin in her lap, picked up her fork and knife and waited for him to finish topping off his glass. “Are you glad you came back? Do you miss LA?”
“In some ways, yes. I miss the weather. And a few friends. But I’m glad I came back. It was the right thing for me at the time.”
At the time. What did that mean? And why was it suddenly so important for her to hear that he was staying?