A Moment on the Lips(59)

‘The restaurant won’t fail. You’d never let it. And even if the worst happened, something you couldn’t fix—I know you’d never take out your frustrations on me and hurt me. And don’t start on about that bruise, either. That was completely accidental and it could’ve happened to anyone.’

His eyes were filled with pain. ‘That’s what my mother thought when she married my father. That’s what Rachele thought when she started seeing Niccolo. That the men they loved would never hurt them. And they were both wrong.’

‘But you’re not your father, Dante. You’re not.’

‘I’m his son. I have his blood. Bad blood, maybe. So I just can’t take that risk,’ he said again. ‘We have to end this thing between us. Keep things strictly business from now on. I’m sorry.’

And he walked out of Carenza’s flat while she stood there, unable to move or think or act.

Dante was so wrong about this, it was untrue. But she didn’t have the faintest idea how to convince him of the truth. All she could do was let him walk away. And hope that she’d be able to work out a compromise that would suit them both.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JUST to underline his point, Dante distanced himself slightly over the next few days. But then Carenza—who’d thrown herself into work, in the hope that her subconscious would come up with a fix for the situation between her and Dante and she could find a way of proving to him that he wasn’t his father—was digging through the boxes of invoices when she discovered something she really wasn’t happy about. Two phone calls to check certain details made her even less happy.

She really couldn’t discuss this with her grandfather, and Emilio Mancuso was the last person she wanted to know about what she’d just found out until she’d decided what to do. The only person she could really talk to about this was Dante.

It wasn’t one of their mentoring days. But, right now, she really needed his help.

She picked up the phone and dialled his number.

‘Mariella Ricci.’

Oh, no. His phone was through to his secretary—so the chances were, he wasn’t in. ‘Hi, Mariella. It’s Carenza. Can I speak to Dante, please?’

‘Sorry, cara. He’s in meetings all day. Is it something urgent?’

‘It’s OK. It can wait.’

‘You don’t sound so sure.’ Mariella’s voice was gentle.

‘No, it’s fine. Just some things that don’t add up and I wanted his advice.’ On how she was going to deal with this. What to do for the best.

‘Do you have anything you can email over to him?’

‘I could scan in the papers and email them over.’ Putting her suspicions down on paper might help crystallise her thoughts and she’d work out what to do for the best.

‘Do that. He’ll check in with me later, so I’ll make sure he knows about it.’

‘Thank you, Mariella. I appreciate it.’

‘Prego.’

Carenza sighed as she hung up. She was about to start scanning the documents when she realised how big the file would be by the time she’d finished; it’d take ages to download and be a nuisance for Dante. Perhaps she could drop the papers in to his office instead.

And see him.

Ha. How pathetic was she?

All the same, she took colour photocopies of the invoices, numbered them all, and composed a seriously businesslike note. Just so Dante didn’t think this was simply a pathetic excuse to contact him.

#1, Invoice from dairy supplier. Sent me their copy instead of customer copy. Quantity and price both lower than on customer copy. Rang them and pretended to be dippy new secretary. They faxed me more—#2–7. Note the invoice dates and numbers are the same, but the unit costs and quantities are different. Note also who signed them.

Mancuso. And it made her blood boil, the lying, cheating, smarmy …

Ditto invoices from fruit supplier, #8–12.

Her blood pressure went a notch higher.

Nonno pays everything in cash, so the person who signed must be pocketing the difference between what the supplier charges and what we actually pay. Embezzlement? Fraud?

And then came the kicker. What she could actually do about it. If she involved the police, then her grandfather would have to know about it, and the shock of Mancuso’s betrayal could cause him to have more chest pains—a full-blown heart attack, even. Nonno could die. And no way did she want to lose him—she’d already lost more than enough people in her life.