So Irresistible Read Free Page B

sausage pie.”
    “No. I saw you, and I got pissed.” He cast her an aggrieved glance. “I didn’t expect you to go all ‘Terminator’ on me.”
    Gabriella broadened her grin. “We don’t know each other very well. My default mode is Terminator.”
    He nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard. But you look so—”
    Illustratively, he gestured at her and her typical uniform: boy-cut jeans, clingy rose-colored T-shirt, several necklaces, and just enough smoky eyeliner to make her feel edgy. Just because she was a ghostly pale restaurateur who got more heat from the kitchen salamander than she did from the sun didn’t mean she couldn’t roll her own glam-rock-boho personal style.
    “So like a quirky best friend straight out of a romcom movie? Yeah. I get that a lot.” Gabriella ruffled her close-cropped dark hair. “It’s the haircut. It’s misleadingly twee.”
    The mushroom vendor nodded. “Usually, the toughest person at the farmers market isn’t wearing lip gloss and pink high-tops,” he pointed out, “while standing six inches shorter and sixty pounds lighter than me. But you’re pretty tough.”
    “I make up with willpower what I lack in muscle power.”
    He laughed. “I wouldn’t want to get between you and a goal, that’s for sure. The look on your face a minute ago . . .” He shuddered, then pantomimed wiping his brow. “I feel lucky to have escaped with my portobellos intact just now.”
    “I like your portobellos. I wish I could use them at Campania.” Feeling suddenly stricken, Gabriella touched his forearm. “I’m sorry about your brother. I know my dad didn’t want to let anyone go. If there’s any way I can help—”
    “Well . . . I can try sending him to Campania. If he’ll go.”
    “ If? Why wouldn’t he, if he wants a job?”
    The thought of people being out of work, even temporarily or tangentially because of her spat with her dad, left Gabriella feeling awful. She wanted to help if she could.
    The mushroom vendor looked away. He cleared his throat. “Nobody wants to work for you. Not now. Not when all the other Grimani pizzerias are already closed. You’re on death watch.”
    Ugh . Hearing it made Gabriella feel worse than ever.
    “You know how it is,” he went on semiapologetically. “This town is full of solid restaurants. It’s a kitchen worker’s paradise. Easy in, easy out. My brother does have another job now. He likes it okay. Not as much as he liked working for Mr. Grimani, but well enough.” He cast her a pitying glance. “You’ve been around, Gabriella. You know as well as I do that the only people who’d be willing to work in a dying house like yours—”
    “Whoa.” Gabriella held up her hands. “Too much honesty.”
    “—are down-and-outs. Shoemakers just looking for a quick buck.”
    “That explains a lot about my current staff. I’ve hired some real questionable types lately, just to get pies in the oven and on the tables.” Determinedly, Gabriella rallied. “But that’s temporary. That’s why I’m looking for more workers.”
    He nodded, silently acknowledging her request for help.
    “Once I’ve gotten Campania back on its feet,” she went on, “I’ll reopen the other pizzerias. So if your brother wants a job later, after I’ve saved the day, tell him to come see me.”
    “You sound pretty confident. Or crazy.”
    Gabriella shrugged. She was used to hearing herself described that way. It had been happening ever since she’d started up her first lemonade stand at the age of eight—and kicked ass on the other neighborhood kids with her special top-secret recipe . . . and her earnings. “Maybe I’m a little of both.”
    “Speaking of crazy”—the mushroom vendor looked around—“when you got here, were you chasing somebody? Because I thought I saw—”
    “I was chasing some thing ,” Gabriella interrupted before he could make her seem even crazier. I was chasing redemption. And a chance to rebuild my family, too . Not