Chapter One
Gabriella D’Angelo woke bright and early Sunday morning knowing that this was the day she’d been waiting years for. Today was the day.
Which made it especially disheartening that her whole body seemed to be staging a revolt. The headache she could easily attribute to one too many beers, but the strain in her shoulders and the tightness in her thighs, that could only be…She turned her head and peeped out of one eye to assess the situation. Yep. The beautiful blonde she had picked up at the bar was still slumbering peacefully in the bed beside her.
Oh, yes. At least last night’s beer hadn’t robbed her of the memory of what had transpired after they’d caught a ride back to the house. The way Blondie bit and nipped in all the right places as she had explored Gabi’s body…yes, indeed. The way the woman screamed with pleasure when Gabi had brought her to orgasm was well worth a few aches and pains. Hell, a sore body the next day was how you knew it was good. It had been way too long since the last time Gabi had had a night like that.
The blonde—what was her name?—expelled a sleepy sigh and rolled onto her side. The sheet tugged down with the movement, exposing her perky breasts. Gabi’s insides revved up all over again. Another orgasm could definitely chase away this hangover headache. Was there time for another round before she had to be at work?
A quick glance at her phone confirmed there was not. Gabi couldn’t be late today—not when they were shutting the restaurant down after lunch service to prepare for the big party that evening.
Oh well, it had been good while it lasted. Time to cut this one loose.
It wasn’t that the woman lying next to her wasn’t totally fun and perfectly sexy, it was just that Gabi was on the precipice of a long-awaited change. Her father was retiring and she was taking over the family business. D’Angelo’s Italian Restaurant was a popular feature of the community. She needed to focus. She couldn’t let her family—not to mention the community—down. She didn’t need the distraction of maintaining a relationship. So, no. This was the end, not the beginning of anything. One-and-dones were all it was going to be for Gabi in the romance department.
But right now the beautiful woman was gently snoring and slumbering sweetly, and there was no reason Gabi couldn’t wait until after she was dressed to wake…Ashley? Audrey? Whatever her name was. She covered those beautiful breasts back up before slipping out of bed.
By the time she returned from the shower, her sleepover guest was yawning and stretching awake, blinking hard as if trying to fit all the pieces of last night together into a full memory. Relatable.
“Hey there,” Gabi said, pulling on a plain gray, long-sleeve tee. “I don’t want to rush you out, but I’ve got to get to work, so, uh—”
“So, you’re rushing me out,” she finished. Her easy laugh was like a babbling brook. Damn, she had a stunning smile. She didn’t seem at all thrown by the nudge to hit the road. Instead, she leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve her clothes from the floor. “It’s all right. I understand.”
It was only a moment before they were both fully dressed and heading down the stairs. At the front door, Gabi turned to face the other woman. “This is kind of awkward, right?”
“Oh, no. It’s fine.” That smile again. It was vanilla-latte warm and sweet. “Last night was fun. I’m Ainsley, by the way.”
“Gabi.” She shook the offered hand, relieved that their parting was so easy-peasy. “Do you need me to order a car for you or something?”
“I think I’m going to walk. I’m just a few blocks away. I’m staying at the Hilton.” She tipped her head, indicating she was going north. Her expression clouded for a moment as if she was trying to solve a difficult math problem, but then she shook her head and brightened again. “Anyway, I’m gonna run. See you around.”
Gabi said goodbye, turned, and walked in the other direction. That went well. The least sticky one-night-stand morning-after she’d ever experienced. Not that she had had a ton of them, but enough since her last disaster of a relationship ended and she had decided to throw herself into work.
This had been an easy catch and release. Smooth as silk. Completely unsticky. In a way it made the woman even more attractive. Golden hair, big blue sparkle-like-the-sun-on-the-ocean eyes, that sexy mouth and the very, very dirty things it did to her, and on top of it all, an easy breezy demeanor that left one wondering what it would be like if…
It didn’t matter—it was over and Gabi had to get to work. She had to get ready for lunch service and pull together the last-minute bits and pieces for the party later that night.
Maybe she would run into Ainsley again sometime and they could spend another nice and easy night together. Gabi inhaled the brisk spring morning air. What was that perfume of Ainsley’s? Some kind of cherry blossom scent. Her heart felt lighter somehow. Yes. Running into Ainsley again wouldn’t be completely objectionable.
* * *
“It’s a beautiful day to make marinara!” Gabi was still flying high fifteen minutes later when she walked through the back door into the kitchen of D’Angelo’s Italian Restaurant. “What’s the good word, Brian?”
“The good word?” Brian’s deep voice held a teasing tone. “Someone’s in a good mood. Something happened last night that you want to share with the class?”
Brian had been working at D’Angelo’s since he was a teenager, hired as a dishwasher and to unload the truck. Now, at twenty-five and built like a linebacker, he still helped with the truck, but was also Gabi’s right-hand man in the kitchen and the only one Gabi trusted to run it on her days off. His square jaw and meaty hands gave him a grizzly look, but Gabi knew him well enough to know he was all teddy bear inside. In the four years since she’d come back to town and they’d been working together, they’d become more like family than just coworkers. Still, Gabi wasn’t exactly ready to confess about her hot and heavy one-night stand, as amazing as it had been.
“I’m just excited about the party tonight.”
“Really?” He wiped his hands on the towel hanging through the belt loop on his well-worn jeans and stepped around the steel prep table, coming closer as if trying to get a better look at her. “Because you’re practically glowing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe you got—”
“I said I’m just excited about tonight.” She pushed into his beefy shoulder, intending to shove him back in the direction he came from, but he didn’t even flinch. “The party is going to be a blast.”
“And let’s not forget, the announcement that you’re taking over D’Angelo’s now that your dad is retiring.” His teasing expression turned more sincere, like he was proud of her.
“There’s that too.” Gabi couldn’t help the huge smile that took over her face. She’d been waiting a long time. Not the part about her pop retiring—she loved working with him. But the next generation taking over the family restaurant, that was tradition. And now it was finally her turn.
“Hey, you two,” her father called through the back door, interrupting Gabi’s moment of blissful reflection. “Get out here. The truck just pulled up and he can’t block the ally all day while he waits for you two to swap secrets in the kitchen.”
Brian shrugged. “He’s still the one in charge today.”
The two did as they were told, grabbing a dolly on the way out to assist with transferring produce and supplies from the truck to the walk-in cooler.
Gabi helped for a bit, but after the bulk of the order had been unloaded, she began her lunch prep in the kitchen and left Brian and her father to inventory the supplies. She’d barely finished prepping for the day’s featured chopped salad before a string of cursing came from the walk-in that made her think she’d better check in on the guys.
“Pop, what’s wrong?” She leaned against the cold, metal door and looked from her father, digging through a crate of tomatoes, to Brian, holding a printed copy of the order in one hand and scratching at one of his bushy eyebrows with the other.
“These aren’t Roma tomatoes. My standing order is Roma. These are…”
“Saucy lady tomatoes,” Brian supplied.
“Saucy lady? What kind of name is that for a tomato?” He dropped the fruit back into the case and threw his hands in the air as if appealing to the gods.
“I don’t know, Pop. It sounds pretty descriptive to me.”
“It’s not a Roma.” His voice was loud. This wasn’t a joke to him. “I order Romas because that’s what we use in my nonna’s sauce. I need the Romas. Not saucy ladies or whatever they’re called. Do these jagoffs think they can just send whatever they want and no one will notice?”
“What’s it say on the packing slip?” Gabi turned to Brian.
He squinted at the paper and worked his brow a little more, nervous about possibly upsetting his boss. “Roma is crossed out on the list.” More rubbing. He was going to rub that thing right off at this rate. “But three cases of saucy lady tomatoes have been added at the end. Guess they swapped them out?”
“How the hell am I supposed to make my sauce without Romas?”
“God, Pop. If I hear you say Romas one more time, I’m going to scream.” She put her arm around her father and guided him out of the walk-in, leaving Brian to sort the rest of the order. “Why don’t we call the supplier and ask if this is just a mix-up. I’m sure if it is they’ll make it right.”
She would have preferred to send an email, but she couldn’t listen to her pop stomp around the kitchen muttering about tomatoes for the rest of the morning while she waited for a response. So she pulled him away from the noise of the kitchen into his office—the office that would be her office in less than twenty-four hours—and made the call. While the tinny hold music played in her ear and her father paced in the small office, she let her mind drift.
The office was the one part of the restaurant that hadn’t been renovated since her father took over operations in 1993. The dining room got a refresh in 2015. The kitchen got an overhaul a few years after that. But this space? Nothing. This should be her first order of business once she was officially in charge. A fresh coat of paint—maybe a bolder color choice than the mint green currently chipping away on the wall. Definitely a new desk chair. This one looked like it had survived the Nixon administration and had a wobbly wheel that was a safety hazard. She could give this tiny space some style and really make it her own.
“Thank you for holding. How can I help you?” The woman on the other end of the call drew Gabi’s focus back to the matter at hand and was quickly able to explain how the Great Tomato Swap had gone down.
Gabi clicked off the call and pulled up a file on the office laptop. Yep. Just like the nice lady at Laberto Brothers Foods had said. “Pop, did you even read this contract you have with Labertos?”
He put his hands on her shoulders and peered at the screen. “What’s to read? I tell them what I need, they bring it. So long as I get my food, it’s all good.”
“Right.” She blew out an exasperated sigh. How on Earth had her father kept this place afloat all these years without caring about anything but the food? Good thing he had her—and a great staff—for support. “See this little box here labeled no substitutions that you didn’t tick? That means if they don’t have the exact item you requested, but do have a reasonable substitution, they will make the replacement. Thus, the saucy ladies.”
Her pop growled, “But our sauce—”
“Is going to feature seventy-five pounds of saucy lady tomatoes this week.” She cut off his complaining. “People will get over it. By the weekend we’ll be back to Roma and the ship will be righted.”
“With the wrong tomatoes?”
“We’re not wasting the food or losing the money we paid for them. So, go make friends with the saucy lady, Pop.”
He growled again, but based on the way he shuffled back out to the kitchen, seemed to surrender to Gabi’s declaration.
That was that. Success! Gabi had officially made her first executive decision as manager of D’Angelo’s. No doubt the first of many to come. She was more than ready, and she was totally going to rock her new gig running the family business.
* * *
Her father was about to announce he was retiring and handing his restaurant over to her good care. But instead of enjoying the party leading up to her big moment, she was ducking into the bathroom to wipe onion dip off her chest.
She turned on the cold tap, splashed some water onto the stain, and dabbed at it with a cocktail napkin. She frowned when she saw the baseball-sized wet spot in the mirror. The clingy damp green fabric didn’t make her feel any better.
“Just call me onion tits,” she muttered then jumped when a toilet flushed and a stall door slammed open behind her.
“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” The tall blonde was striking even in her plain white button-down and straight-cut black pants and Gabi recognized her right away—Ainsley the unsticky one-night stand. Was she one of the servers they’d hired for the evening so the staff could enjoy the party? That was a little embarrassing. Recognition registered on Ainsley’s face. “Oh hi. Gabi, right?”
“Yeah. And no, I was just talking to myself. Sorry. I…I spilled dip on my shirt, and I tried to clean it off, and now my shirt’s all wet.” Thank you, Catherine Obvious. Why was she oversharing? Ainsley didn’t seem to mind. She was drying her hands under the air dryer and going on with her life. “Anyway, I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should put your shirt under here.” Her voice was still friendly even though she was speaking loudly enough to be heard over the blowing air. She backed away from the device and tipped her head in an invitation for Gabi to step up to the hot blast.
As much as she twisted and bent backward limbo-style, Gabi just couldn’t quite get her breast positioned under the flow of air. This was never going to work.
Ainsley was trying to stifle her laughter with a perfectly manicured hand pressed against her lips. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and at least had the decency to look like she was trying to bite back her mirth. She gestured with a flapping hand. “Gimme your shirt.”
“Give you what?” Gabi straightened her posture. Was she kidding? She wanted her to strip down to her bra right there in the restroom?
“Take your shirt off and give it to me. Come on. I’ve done this before,” she said. Her friendly voice now had a confident and commanding edge. Bossy. Sexy. “We’ll get you dried out and back to the party in no time.”
Outside the bathroom the music pumping through the speakers stopped and Gabi heard her pop thanking everyone for coming to the party. Maybe it was desperation to not miss his speech, or maybe it was those big, blue eyes staring her down, daring her to defy the order, but Gabi pulled her top over her head and handed it over. She stood there in her bra, arms crossed self-consciously over her chest, and rocked on her heels while Ainsley swiftly slid the shirt back and forth under the blast of hot air.
“Perfect!” Ainsley was suddenly facing her.
Was she talking about Gabi’s boobs? No. She was holding up the green top which looked good as new.
“Oh my God.” Gabi grabbed the top and pulled it on. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate this.”
“Happy to help.” Ainsley smiled. “Now, go on. Go. It sounds like Mr. D’Angelo is about to give a speech.”
Gabi did as she was instructed, making it back to the party just in time. Her pop caught her eye and his face lit up.
“There she is.” His voice boomed through the speaker system. “Get up here, Gabriella. Friends, I’m so proud to announce that my daughter, Gabriella, will be filling my spot in the D’Angelo’s kitchen. She will be the head chef guaranteeing you will continue to get the same delicious food just like you’ve always loved here.”
Gabi reached her father’s side and waved at the crowd applauding her. She had some big shoes to fill, but she was ready for the challenge. And it felt so good to have the support of the family and friends who had gathered to celebrate with them. Finally, it was her moment, and it felt glorious.
“Happy day for this proud papa,” he continued, pulling Gabi to him in a side hug. “I also want to take this chance to introduce you all to D’Angelo’s new front-of-house business manager, Ainsley Becker. Ainsley, you come on up here too so everyone can see who you are.”
Wait, what? Gabi’s knees felt like cooked spaghetti. She wasn’t taking over the business in its entirety? Her dad was bringing in some stranger to manage the general operations? She saw the tall blonde working her way through the partygoers to join them in front of the crowd and her stomach dropped.
Ainsley was wearing what looked like a bespoke fitted violet jacket over the plain white button-down Gabi had seen when she was standing half-naked in the ladies’ room two minutes earlier. The same friendly, bossy, sexy woman who helped Gabi dry her shirt and had given her more than a few mind-blowing orgasms the night before was now standing beside her and waving to the crowd like she was fucking Miss America. And apparently she was taking over half of Gabi’s family business.
What the fuck?
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