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‘I have enough kitchen hands to meet the kitchen’s needs. Some of them, Luca has speared into the positions when I…might not have chosen them for the work, but I do my best with the workers I have.’
It wasn’t a negative statement. Scarlett got the impression it was an honest one.
Lorenzo named staff members. He explained whether they were full or part time, hours they worked and what their roles were. ‘There is room for all of them to improve their skills in one way or another. I work on that on a daily basis.’
For a restaurant the size of Rosa, the staffing levels seemed appropriate. ‘I’ll want to examine your kitchen roster some time in the next day or two.’ And the wages and staff conditions, but those weren’t Lorenzo’s responsibility.
There had to be reasons why Rosa didn’t make a better bottom line financially. Scarlett would turn the restaurant inside out to discover those reasons and fix them.
For now she needed to know: ‘How economical are you with your cooking methods? What are you doing to reduce ingredient wastage? How often do you have Isabella in to supervise the making of the special tomato sauce?’
‘Within the guidelines I have to work with, I believe I’m being quite economical.’ Lorenzo stared into Scarlett’s sherry-brown eyes and assured himself he could and would finish this interview in a calm relaxed manner no matter how many questions Scarlett threw at him or how less than happy to see him she might appear to be. And no matter how concerned he felt about his job security with Scarlett now in a position to decide his fate.
He didn’t need any more ripples in his work record, but what could he do besides work hard and perform to the best of his ability?
Regret tugged at him. It wasn’t easy to look into Scarlett’s lovely face and keep memories at bay. That was a problem he’d worried over since he first heard she would be coming to Rosa to act as Financial Manager. He wanted to ask how she’d been—was she happy? So many things. He couldn’t ask any of those questions. It was all long gone, the mistakes and missteps were made. He couldn’t fix the past. And his present.
‘I maintain a high standard in my kitchen.’ Best to stick to these things with her. Best not to notice her too much, and he was trying not to notice how lovely she looked in the prissy cream blouse. She’d teamed it with a deep crimson and cream pinstriped skirt that had clung to her hips as she stalked out of the kitchen minutes ago.
The clothes were businesslike yet still practical for Italy’s summer weather. But did Scarlett think the outfit made her look severe? Remote? If so, she didn’t have much idea. Her hair slipping from its moorings put paid to that, as did the bright pink ribbon that adorned the silky black mass.
That and the softness that she couldn’t quite hide, deep in the backs of her guarded eyes. She might play the tough boss lady, but it was clear she still had…her softer side.
‘My reputation and that of the restaurant are on the line with every meal produced.’ His tone wanted to soften. He forced it to remain businesslike. His job could be on the line here, which meant he couldn’t let himself indulge in memories of the past when, for a time before it all went wrong, he and Scarlett had been happy together.
He forced the words out. ‘If a dish is substandard it’s thrown away, but my ultimate goal is to ensure everyone on my team works hard enough and carefully enough to always produce a dish worthy of the standards of Rosa.’
‘Throwing meals out at all—that’ll have to stop.’ Scarlett leaned forward in her chair.
‘Sometimes things happen even in the best kitchens, Scarlett.’ Did she really imagine that could be otherwise?
‘Well, I suppose so.’ Scarlett’s pretty nose scrunched.
‘Now and then a patron will throw a fit over a perfectly good meal, too, and send it back.’ From time to time, this happened. ‘It’s important to maintain goodwill, even when we know the restaurant is in the right.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Scarlett drummed one slender set of fingers on the desk before she stopped the movement abruptly. ‘I want to be brought in on it if I’m here and a diner carries on like that.’
So Lorenzo could hide behind her skirts while she took care of things for him? Pride rose up. He pushed aside all knowledge of the edge of shame that went with it. What did they say?
If you don’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t exist.
His father was certainly good at that. Well, at ignoring Lorenzo’s existence much of the time, now that his son had ‘dishonoured the family with his behaviour’. Lorenzo wasn’t in a position where he could explain himself to his family.
And now was not the time to dwell on any of that!
‘I assure you I am quite able to deal with any difficult patrons here.’
‘Well, I know that.’ She said it as though any other option was ridiculous.
And Lorenzo realised he might have overreacted. He could thank his past with Marcella for that. Well, he could thank that past for a few things, couldn’t he? ‘Regarding Isabella making the trademark sauce, I keep her informed of the supply. She tops it up when needed so we make sure we never run out.’
Maybe if he made it clear to Scarlett that he had a good knowledge of the restaurant’s workings, she would feel more able to work with him to achieve whatever she needed to here. Lorenzo needed to know just what her goals were and what she would expect of him.
He’d worked closely with Isabella, and she’d handed plenty of responsibility to him. That had suited him, but what did Scarlett want? ‘Is the restaurant in real trouble? Are jobs secure? Isabella only said you’d be working to improve our bottom line. She didn’t cover the why of it.’
Scarlett hesitated for so long, he’d almost decided she wasn’t going to answer. Finally she said, ‘The restaurant has been running at a loss, I believe for quite some time.’ The moment the words were out, she glared at him. ‘You’re being trusted with that information because I need your co-operation and full disclosure from you to enable me to do my work here properly and get Rosa back in the black. If you discuss this fact with anyone, or if you hold anything back—’
‘What kind of man do you think I am?’ Lorenzo’s nostrils flared.
But they both knew the answer, didn’t they? To Scarlett, Lorenzo was a man who had let her down. The answer shone in her eyes for a moment before she glanced away.
‘You won’t lose your job due to financial reasons.’ Scarlett uttered the words in a low tone. ‘Luca and Isabella both speak highly of you and want to keep you here. I am determined to turn the restaurant around so it starts making a profit, and continues to do so. If you prove to be good for Rosa as they are saying you are, and you’re respectful to me and my authority, then I’m sure your job will be quite safe, too.’
Her assurance helped somewhat. Scarlett might feel angry towards him because of their shattered past love affair. But if she said his job wasn’t in jeopardy provided he continued to work well, Lorenzo should be safe. He wished it didn’t have to matter so much to him, but it did. He needed every Euro of his wages to help him save for his ultimate future. That future was a long way away, years still, but he was doing his best.
So now he only had to make sure Scarlett didn’t fire him for any other reason, and he hoped, over time, that she would see his commitment to Rosa.
Scarlett seemed to make an effort to centre her thoughts once again. ‘I’m sorry for all the questions, but your answers will help me prioritise how I approach change here.’ She drew a breath. ‘What are the most popular dishes and how do they stack up in terms of profit margins? Do you buy one hundred per cent only local produce?’
‘We always use local produce if possible, otherwise I shop nearby for other things.’ The restaurant had a small van for that purpose. He listed the most popular dishes. Many of them used Luca’s secret sauce. ‘As Luca’s rules about local produce have been hard and fast, I haven’t looked into how much money we might be losing by buying locally but there are times when I think there would be a substantial difference.’
‘I see. Well, thank you. I can see I have a lot of things I need to look into.’ Scarlett got to her feet in a single, lithe movement.
Meeting over, apparently. For a moment he wondered if she would shake his hand. But she simply strode to the door in the cream pumps that matched her blouse exactly.
Lorenzo dragged his gaze upwards away from tanned slender legs. ‘My history in restaurants has taught me a lot. If you want to discuss any aspect of Rosa at any time—’
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Scarlett’s brows drew together and she took a half-step towards him before she stopped and tugged the door wider. ‘I’ll let you get back to work.’
Lorenzo stepped forward too, until he was even with her. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, catapulted him back to happy times between them before the complications of his life had wrecked everything for both of them. Could either one of them hope to truly get through her working here, and just ignore all that? ‘Scarlett, the past—’
‘Is irrelevant between us now.’ She acknowledged its existence and dismissed it with a wave of one hand, all in the space of seconds. ‘I can assure you, from my perspective it is long forgotten!’
He might have believed it, he supposed. That Miss Scarlett Gibson quite frankly didn’t give a damn.
Yes, Lorenzo might have believed that if he hadn’t seen the burn of hurt deep in the backs of her eyes that had nothing to do with Rosa or now or here, and everything to do with that past.
‘I’m glad to hear you’re okay with that.’ Lorenzo turned on his heel and went back to his kitchen where he at least had the hope of telling himself he was somewhat in charge and in control. He needed that. Marcella’s treatment, her behaviour towards him, had left him with the need to…find self-esteem within his work. It was a cliché, he supposed, but Lorenzo was honest enough to admit it about himself.
As for Scarlett’s position here as the new boss, Lorenzo wanted to believe the two of them could work together without things turning catastrophic. Surely they could.
Couldn’t they?
Chapter Two
‘YOU know there’ll be fallout for you once Lisa learns that you’ve moved yourself out of her villa.’ Isabella put the middle-sized suitcase of Scarlett’s set of three down in the centre of the small bedsit, and turned with raised brows to face her cousin. ‘And I’d have loved to have—’
‘I know. And…thanks. But I would have felt I was intruding.’ It was the next morning, early. Max had driven them here, helped them to unload Scarlett’s luggage, and had then disappeared with a promise to meet Isabella in the village later.
Or should Scarlett say the prince had driven the princess into town? The romance between his cousin and the reclusive prince was a little like a fairy tale. Scarlett stifled a small grin and wondered how she could be so cheerful when a part of her very much did not want to face another day at the restaurant with Lorenzo working under her nose, and making her feel uncomfortable and overly conscious of him by turns.
Not that he’d been trying to do that, to be fair. Being in contact with him had turned out to be more difficult than she had anticipated, that was all. Scarlett dumped her overnight bag and laptop case beside the suitcases. ‘It’s not up to Mum to decide where I stay while I’m working at Rosa.’ Lisa wasn’t in Monta Correnti just now anyway. ‘Though I do appreciate her inviting me to stay at her villa.’
Isabella raised her eyebrows. ‘You mean inviting you in a way you felt powerless to refuse.’
Her accompanying smile reminded Scarlett of girlhood days.
‘Maybe Mum did sort of coerce me into agreeing to stay there. But I found a way to get out of being under her scrutiny, even if it was only the second-hand scrutiny of her house staff.’ Scarlett had tugged on her ribbon before she thought about it. It was a gold and black polka-dot ribbon today, which she felt nicely offset her black and yellow A-line, knee-length linen dress.
‘And anyway, with no offence meant to anyone, I prefer to be here.’ Scarlett let her gaze rove over the room. It was small, simply furnished with a sofa that pulled out into a bed, a tiny dining table with two chairs, a kitchenette and a bathroom with a washing machine tucked behind a door at the far end.
Certainly Scarlett’s apartment back in Melbourne had been much roomier, and her mother’s villa heaps roomier again. Well, she’d sublet her apartment.
And this little bedsit tucked onto the end of a widow’s house was clean and neat and serviceable. It would meet Scarlett’s requirements for her stay in Italy. Most of all she could be private here at the end of the day. Scarlett wanted to reconnect with her family, but she needed some kind of bolt hole! ‘I need my own space sometimes, Izzie. Anyway, by the time Mum turns up again I could be halfway through my stay. What she doesn’t know…’
‘Won’t cause an outburst?’ Isabella shook her head. ‘Have you really forgotten that much of what it’s like to be part of a big family with all the related tensions and nosiness and everything else? I know you have your father and his relatives in Australia, but have you also forgotten what Lisa can be like when she unleashes her sharp tongue? Your mamma will hear about you moving out within days, if not sooner.’ A hint of annoyance leaked into Isabella’s tone.
It wasn’t directed at Scarlett, and Scarlett knew this. They were all less than happy with Lisa after the way she’d behaved towards her brother Luca recently.
‘I haven’t forgotten. Mamma hasn’t spoken with my father, even on the phone, since I turned eighteen, but I remember a few of the calls before then. Mum shouting and my father looking as though he’d like to tear his hair out by the end of it.’
Dad had made a good home for her when she decided at twelve that she wanted to go to him in Australia. It had taken time for Scarlett to let herself really love Brad Gibson. She’d been an unhappy, upset child at the time, but they’d got there. Her father was a good man.
Scarlett went on. ‘The bedsit is perfect, Izzie.’ She gestured about her. ‘It’s literally less than five minutes’ walk from Rosa.’ Scarlett walked to the opened door and glanced out. ‘In fact, you can see the restaurant from here, if you stand in the part that isn’t screened by the overhead lintel and all that flowering creeper. Anyway, shall we go? I need to get to work. I’ll unpack tonight.’
Scarlett reached once again for her laptop computer and purse. She perched a pair of sunglasses on her nose. With her eyes shielded from view she felt somewhat better.
‘I have an errand to run before I drop by the restaurant.’ Isabella gave a soft smile. ‘It’s just a little something I’m picking up. A photo of me that I had framed.’
‘To give to your prince when you meet up later?’ Scarlett asked teasingly, and smiled when Isabella blushed.
Isabella smiled, too, and while she was still smiling she said, ‘Speaking of photos, Jackie’s got heaps of her daughter now. You should—’
‘I don’t have time to look at photos.’ The rejection shot out of Scarlett’s mouth before she even realised how trapped Isabella’s suggestion had made her feel. Scarlett found it hard to think about the daughter her sister, Jackie, had given up for adoption.
Because she’d thought, and thought, and thought about it over the years and the more she did that, the deeper her guilt seemed to lodge itself. Scarlett had avoided contact with Izzie and Jackie for years because of this.
Now they were back in contact, and Scarlett did want to be closer.
But a part of her also wanted to demand to know if her cousin truly thought getting over something like that long separation and loss could be so simple for Jackie? So easy? That Scarlett’s sister would miraculously have forgotten all the years of feeling as if there’d been a hole left inside her just because now she had her lover back in her life, and some contact with her daughter, Kate? After all, Scarlett and, to a lesser degree, Isabella, had caused Jackie’s loss!
Before Scarlett could speak or do otherwise, the sound of a motorcycle echoed through the square.
‘I didn’t think he’d be in this early.’ How stupid, to get all breathless just from the sight of Lorenzo across the square. It must be because he’d made it necessary for her to assert her authority yesterday.
‘You recognise him from that distance?’ Isabella seemed surprised.
‘Who else would it be?’ Scarlett dodged having to explain that she and Lorenzo had known each other five years ago, and had more than simply known each other. They’d kept the relationship secret and Scarlett wasn’t about to reveal anything about it now. ‘I mean, he’s gone to the restaurant, it’s a man and he is reasonably recognisable even at this distance.’
‘I suppose so.’ Isabella followed Scarlett’s glance. ‘Lorenzo did well yesterday, didn’t he?’
Praise for the head chef wasn’t quite what Scarlett had been expecting. She said carefully, ‘The diners seemed happy enough with their meals.’
‘Oh, I’m sure they all would have been.’ Isabella waved a hand as though to dismiss this. ‘But I meant with that special order for lunch for twelve people. It was very last minute, but Lorenzo was sure he could pull it off. I wouldn’t have been able to. Not with the things on the menu.’
Oblivious to Scarlett’s surprise, Isabella went on. ‘The movie star was happy, though. One of the kitchen hands made the delivery and Lorenzo said at the prices he insisted on to do the catering, the restaurant will have cleaned up on it financially.’
A movie star?
A last-minute order for a special lunch for twelve people?
This was the reason why Lorenzo hadn’t come immediately to yesterday’s meeting?
Why hadn’t he said so? Scarlett stared at her cousin as yesterday’s impressions realigned themselves. ‘I wasn’t aware—’
‘I thought Lorenzo would have explained it to you. He’d just finished tempering the chocolate rolls when he asked me to take over while he had his meeting with you. I was a nervous wreck even in that short span of time. I can cope with our regular menu, but that?’ Isabella’s eyes glazed over as she started listing dishes.
‘Chocolate tart, limone mousse, a chocolate and hazelnut gateau, vanilla and raspberry chiffon cake, lime-custard-stuffed profiteroles, built into a profiterole tree if you please, and that was only one course of the menu.’ She drew a breath. ‘Even with the meeting with you in the middle of it, Lorenzo managed and got flawless results.’
‘Oh.’ Scarlett found herself in the rare position of feeling as though she hadn’t really behaved appropriately in relation to her work, that she’d perhaps brought personal issues into it and allowed those to colour her judgement. That she’d been hard on Lorenzo and hadn’t really given him a chance to explain things. That was bad management on her part, and, no matter what her personal feelings might be towards him, he’d shown dedication and commitment to Rosa.
‘Well, I’d better get going.’ Isabella gave her a quick hug again. ‘See you in a while.’ She walked off.
‘Yes. See you.’ Scarlett frowned and started towards the restaurant.
It appears I may have misjudged you yesterday, Lorenzo. Scarlett practised the words in her mind as she pushed open one of the kitchen’s swing doors. Lorenzo might have played her false five years ago, and Scarlett wasn’t about to forget that. But when Scarlett made a mistake in her work, she admitted it. Now she just had to find Lorenzo, and say those words to his face. Then she could get on with the real work of the day with her thoughts at peace.
It only took a second for Scarlett to realise that her hopes of catching Lorenzo alone were not to be. Two seconds later she comprehended that the conversation being conducted beyond a bank of open shelving was not a happy one.
Lorenzo and another male stood with their backs turned to her. They were unaware of her presence. They spoke in Italian in muted voices that seemed all the more intense for that fact. The young kitchen hand had a backpack dangling from his hand, and Lorenzo plunked two bottles of some kind of spirits down on a work surface before he turned back to the boy.
From the stiffness of Lorenzo’s back, and the guilt Scarlett could see written all over the boy even from this distance, it was clear Lorenzo had caught the young man trying to steal the bottles. What was the teenager’s name? Scarlett ran her mental list from yesterday’s ‘meet the staff’ moments. Dante…
Scarlett’s brows drew together. Was this where Rosa’s profits had gone? Taken by light fingers? She wanted to wade in, and yet something in Dante’s posture and expression, and the way Lorenzo was holding his emotions in, made her hesitate. And the boy was young. He couldn’t have worked here all that long. Certainly not long enough to sink Rosa financially through petty theft, even though this was a very serious thing to have happen.
As Scarlett stood there Lorenzo’s low words carried to her.
‘This stunt—’ He gestured towards the bottles. ‘I can’t believe you’d do such a thing. You’re not a bad boy, Dante. Not everyone on this team is here by my choice but you’re someone I’ve really wanted to keep. You try hard; you’re keen to learn. You’ve always made your shifts without any problems at all. You’ll take direction and you have a natural flair in the kitchen. You have it in you to become a good chef one day.’
‘I’m sorry. I know this was stupid. Mamma has this new boyfriend—’ The boy cut his words off abruptly and for a moment looked trapped. ‘I knew taking the bottles was wrong and I’ve never done it before. I promise you.’ The words were passionate. ‘Please, don’t fire me.’
‘You’re the only child at home, if I remember rightly?’ Lorenzo said the words as though they meant nothing, yet Scarlett could see enough from the view of his profile to understand that he wanted to know more.
‘Yes. I’m an only child.’ The boy confirmed this.
‘You took Luca’s hidden spare key yesterday and came in to steal the wine this morning.’ Lorenzo made the statement flatly. ‘Weren’t you worried I might catch you? Everyone knows I start earlier than my shifts and often work later, too.’
‘I don’t know.’ Dante shrugged skinny shoulders and then seemed to almost wince as he stopped the movement. ‘I guess I didn’t think about that.’
