The Devil Served Tortellini Page 11

  "You're doing great," Rebecca said to Maria, handing her a stuffed Steiff teddy dressed up as an aviator.

  Maria tucked the bear in front of the "Happy Birthday, Timmy" sign and added four boxes of toy cars on either flank. "This isn't exactly rocket science. Just a few toys and some cookies. We do these all the time."

  "I didn't mean the basket, silly. I meant your diet. It's showing, in your face and hips. You're looking good."

  "You notice a difference already?" She hated to admit it, but the Chubby Chums had been a help. Maria had gone to all three meetings last week and despite Bert's Eeyore-on-suicide-watch perspective, she'd found enough motivation to stick to her diet.

  "Of course. You're gorgeous to begin with, but now you're starting to make us all look like Macbeth's witches on a bad day." Rebecca laughed good-naturedly. "The mailman about killed himself handing you the mail yesterday. Most days he dumps it on the counter and backs out fast, giving the rest of us ordinary folk a little grunt."

  "It was only because Lester had on his glasses yesterday. The man is, what, sixty-four?"

  Rebecca wagged a toy drumstick at her. "Men's hormones are the last thing to die, believe me. The heart, the brain, the liver. All of those can quit ticking and the testosterone just keeps going."

  Maria twisted some blue satin into a bow and secured the decoration with a piece of thin floral wire. "Well, there's only one man I'm looking to impress."

  "That Dante you mentioned?"

  Hearing his name caused a catch in her breathing. He'd been on her mind, in her dreams, ever since that Tuesday night with the chess game. And the wine. And the kiss ...

  He'd been right, damn him. She hadn't been able to forget him. But that was only because he was a good kisser. Not because she had some masochistic need to tie herself to one man forever.

  "Dante has made it clear I'd impress him in a tent and flip-flops." Maria shook her head. "No, I have my sights set on Antonio. We knew each other in high school."

  "An old flame-"

  "With a big torch."

  Rebecca laughed. "That's the best kind to reunite with." She unrolled a large sheet of plastic and wrapped it around the finished basket while Maria turned the gift and helped her. "So, dish. When are you seeing him?"

  "He's in town this weekend, but. .."

  "But you're avoiding him because you have no need for wild sex?" Rebecca pressed the back of her hand to Maria's forehead. "Are you ill? Maybe I should get you over to Mass General."

  "I just don't feel"-Maria waved vaguely at her shape"ready."

  "What? I've never known you not to feel ready for a man." Rebecca grinned and leaned closer to Maria. "Besides, when the lights are off, everyone looks ten pounds thinner."

  Maria laughed. "You have a point." She grabbed her cell phone off the counter and flipped it open, scrolling through the recent calls until she got to Antonio's number. "All right. I'll call him. Give myself a little treat for the weekend."

  And get my mind off Dante once and for all.

  Rebecca withdrew a cookie from the leftover pile on the counter and wagged it at Maria. "And if it doesn't work out with Antonio, there are always cookies. Fatfree, of course."

  Antonio's deep greeting carried through the cellular connection and Maria forgot the dessert in Rebecca's hands. "Hi, Antonio. It's Maria."

  "I thought you'd never call," he said. "I'm in Boston. Alone. That's no way to see a city."

  "What part did you want to see?"

  "What's the view from your bedroom window?"

  She swallowed. Who needed Guido's when there was Antonio? Damn. She thought of the half-asked attempt by Harvey the Exterminator to make something happen in her bedroom four months ago. "Where are you?"

  "Where do you want me to be?"

  The bell over the front door rang and Rebeccaa headed out to the shop. Now that she was away from Rebecca's encouraging glances, Maria's belief that she really would look slimmer in the dark disappeared.

  "Maria? Can we get together tonight?" Antonio asked.

  "I can't. I'm-" She racked her brain for the excuse she'd given the last time but came up empty. Living on rabbit food and air didn't seem like a good enough reason not to see him.

  "Don't say no. See me tonight for dinner. Drinks. Anything you want. We can catch up or"-he let out a low chuckle-"make some new memories."

  Maria glanced down at herself and shook her head. In ten more pounds, maybe. "Antonio-"

  "You know, I've always thought you were a smart woman," he said. "If we go out tonight, we can talk. I can get your ideas. Pick your brain and maybe"-another sexy laugh traveled through the phone lines-"more than that."

  "You think I'm smart?"

  "The brains of Einstein and the looks of Aphrodite. Perfection in one woman."

  A man who wanted her for her mind, not just her body? Was that possible? Rekindling the flame with Antonio on an adult level fulfilled fantasies they didn't even run on the Playboy Channel. For a second, she allowed herself to think about the best of both worldsbeing in bed with him and being appreciated for her mind.

  Then she went back to being in bed with him. Mamma mia.

  She took in a breath. "I don't look exactly like Aphrodite anymore."

  "Ah, you will always be beautiful to me." She could almost hear him smiling on the other end. "Come, go out with me. Don't say no. You'll break my heart."

  "You're such a cliche."

  "I'm Italian. It's in my blood."

  She laughed. "You're a hard man to resist."

  "I try. So will you be there?"

  Maria considered for a minute. If she unearthed the stomach flattening, aka sausage casing, underwear from her lingerie drawer, wore all black and put on high heels to make her legs look slimmer, then she might be able to pass for a size ten. In dim light. She'd leave her hair down and not eat anything over two hundred calories for the rest of the day. "It's a date." She sputtered out her address.

  "No. It's a pleasure." Then he was gone, leaving her with a smile on her face.

  Maria hung up, breathless, then headed out to the front of the shop to find Rebecca. "I need a Diet Coke and a trip to Victoria's Secret."

  Rebeccaa laughed. "Sounds like you have a date tonight."

  "Am I too late?"

  Maria wheeled around. Dante stood in the doorway, Candace beside him, the open door against her hip. For a moment, he seemed so much realer-more manlythan Antonio ever had.

  A crazy thought. It was only because Dante was here and Antonio was not.

  "Too late for what?" Maria asked.

  "To ask you to a picnic for two on Castle Island."

  "I've already made plans."

  Dante took a step closer, his gaze on hers. "If those plans change-"

  You and Mamma will fit me for a ring and a house on a cul de sac.

  No, thank you.

  "I know where you are." She cocked her head. "Why aren't you there right now?"

  He held up a small white box of cookies from the shop. "These. I want them."

  He wasn't here to see her. She'd just made plans with another man, so why did she feel disappointed?

  "We have a dozen of those in the case," she said, slipping into business mode.

  "I want more. Much more."

  "We can get another few dozen baked up tomorrow." He shook his head. "More." She paused. "Are we talking cookies?" "Of course. Aren't you?" His grin looked about as innocent as a monk at a Vegas slot machine with a roll of quarters up his puffy sleeve.

  "You have a sudden sweet tooth or are you ordering these for something special?"

  "Franco thought they'd make great after dinner treats for our customers. I tried one and have to agree. You could attach a card advertising your shop to them."

  He grinned. "You kiss me and I kiss you."

  "Isn't the phrase about scratching backs?"

  His grin turned devilish. "I don't have that kind of itch."

  She thought of that kiss at her door and somethi
ng inside her melted.

  "You, ah, might want to see a doctor about that."

  He put the box of cookies into his inside jacket pocket.

  "So, are you up for a rematch?"

  "Rematch? Of what?"

  "Our chess game. I believe you owe me a chance to win back my dignity."

  No. She was not going to go there again. Too much temptation. She had Antonio, after all, and that's who she wanted. She pulled out an order pad and scribbled the restaurant's name and address at the top. "Business first. Total humiliation later."

  Dante leaned against the counter. "I'll need enough cookies for every diner we have each night." He did a few quick mental calculations and gave her a number.

  Maria nodded, making notes in the columns. "You could try our Chocolate Treasure Cookies for special customers. They've got like a roll outside and chocolate on the inside. People call them our "surprise is inside" delights. They're great for customers with birthdays or engagements, anniversaries, things like that."

  "Good idea."

  "And if you have customers who come in regularly, you could put together a little gift basket"-Maria crossed to the workbench and withdrew a square four-by-four inch dark cranberry basket with gold trim-"like this with some cookies in it. Once in a while send them a special gift as a thank you."

  Dante considered the basket, turning it over in his palm. "There are a few people who have been coming to Vita since the day it opened. That would be a nice way to really show them my appreciation."

  "Building goodwill is always a good idea."

  "You're absolutely right." He smiled. "You're a smart woman."

  Two men in one day to say that. Must be something in the smog today. If she heard it any more, she'd be signing up for Mensa.

  "Thanks."

  "I mean it. You know your stuff. I'm not just talking about what you did with the food critic either. These ideas are the kinds of things that will make Vita a bit different from the other restaurants. Set us apart, give us that touch people remember. Make it live up to its name." His gaze softened and he put the basket back on the counter. "And my dad's vision."

  "Well, good." Maria swallowed, wanting to touch him, to somehow show she'd heard the emotion in his voice, but not quite knowing how to do that. She opted to do nothing because it was easier than saying words that would build any more of a connection with him. "I'm glad I could help."

  "So," Dante said, his voice changing in pitch back to normal tones, "how do I do that with you?"

  "Do what?"

  "Build goodwill." He twirled the basket on the smooth Corian surface. "I think it's going to take more than some wicker and a few cookies."

  "Why do you keep trying? I told you, I'm not interested."

  "In me? Or dating?"

  "Both."

  "Bull." He gestured to her cell phone. "You made a date for tonight."

  "With a man who has no use for marriage and doesn't expect anything out of me."

  Dante gave her a lopsided smile. "Now where's the fun in that?"

  She wasn't going to answer that question. Not now, not later. Not until she was seventy-five and no one cared if she was married.

  She didn't want commitment and predictability. Both were traps that sucked in her heart and made her trust. Then, when she least expected it, she'd find another woman under the man who "loved" her because Maria hadn't been enough for him.

  She put on her professional face, totaled up his order and raised her pen to the date section. "When would you like the first delivery?"

  "As soon as you're available."

  "Sorry. Not my department." She gave him a pleasant, noncommittal smile. "Rebecca is the ambassador of goodwill. And good cookies." Maria tore off the order sheet and handed it to Dante. "She'll take care of you."

  He took the paper, folded it and put it in his shirt pocket without looking at it. "You wouldn't be avoiding me, would you?"

  "Of course not." But even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. She was in charge of sales. She could both assign and personally take over an account. Neither Candace nor Rebecca would care. She told herself it was easier this way. Distance herself from him nom before all the wine and linguine reeled her into the exact web her mother wanted to weave for her daughter.

  He leaned in close, the look in his eyes half tease, half desire. And maybe, a flicker of disappointment, too. "Like I told you before, you're a really bad liar. And I intend to prove it to you."

  Then he was gone. And Maria knew she was in trouble. Dante was as stubborn as her mother.

  If Biba Pagliano and Dante Del Rosso ever joined forces, Maria would be a goner.

  Nonna's Theory-of-Men Tri-Colored Fusilli with Vegetables

  1 red onion, sliced

  3 cloves garlic

  Olive oil

  1 big zucchini

  Thyme

  Marjoram

  1 pound fusilli Basil leaves

  Salt and pepper

  1 large red pepper

  1 large yellow pepper

  2 tomatoes, chopped

  Fresh parsley

  Grated Parmigiano Reggiano

  Don't be asking me for measurements now. I cook the old way-throw it in by instinct. It's how you should choose a man, too. Trust your nose; it'll tell you if he's a good choice or if you should put him on the curb for the pigeons to crap on.

  Dice your onions and garlic, then saute them with the oil. Next, slice the zucchini into little sticks. Saute it with some thyme and marjoram in the same pan. Dip a ladle in the pasta water, drop it into your pan, then cover and simmer your zucchini till it's as tender as a man's true heart. If he isn't nice to you, you don't need him. Life's too short for men with no manners for a lady.

  Cook the fusilli until al dente. Meanwhile, add lots of basil, a bit of oil, some salt and pepper to your zucchini. Go with your instincts. They'll tell you the right choice to make. In life and in cooking.

  Dice your peppers, saute them for a bit in a separate pan, just to soften their hard shells (like a man who needs a swift kick from a woman to get his smart ass in gear), then add the chopped tomatoes. Salt as needed.

  A little seasoning is always a good thing. Like a good fight adds spice to a marriage. Keeps him on his toes and doesn't let him get too comfortable in his damned chair.

  Stir in the drained fusilli and zucchini, cover and cook for another minute or two. Serve with the Parmigiano on the side. That's the only thing your man should have on the side-a little cheese.

  If it doesn't work out, then toss the whole thing and start again. It's just a meal, not a marriage. With a man, you need a bit more patience and a hell of a big sense of humor.

  CHAPTER 16

  She had to go in there. It was either that or play subway sumo wrestling with the other five o'clock commuters to get over to Downtown Crossing and pray she could find something that fit-and she could affordin twenty minutes, then hop back on the train for home.

  Antonio was coming at seven. She didn't have enough time for T games.

  Maria stood on the sidewalk outside her mother's house off of Hanover Street and debated. Inside was a killer black dress she'd stored in her old bedroom. The kind of dress guaranteed to make Antonio sweat.

  But another very dangerous thing lurked inside. Her mother's quilting club.

  She squared her shoulders and vowed to march in there, grab the dress out of the back bedroom and

  Sneak out the back door before those women could get their matchmaking paws on her.

  She made it as far as the front hall. "Maria? Is that you?" her mother called from the dining room table. "Come, say hello."

  "Mamma, I'm late. I need to grab a dress and-"

  "You come in. Say hello." When her mother spoke in that tone, arguing with her was about as productive as trying to take a bone from a pit bull.

  Maria poked her head into the dining room as little as possible. "Nice to see you, Mrs. Tamburo and Mrs. Benedetto. Hello, Nonna."

&nbs
p; She didn't pull her head back fast enough. Rosa Benedetto was the first to put in her ante. "Maria, my Nicky is out on parole next week, you know."

  "Great." Maria tried again to leave but Mamma came up beside her, blocking the way. She bent over, ostensibly looking for thread in the little sewing caddy beside the doorway.

  "You always liked Nicky," Rosa said, arching a brow. "He has the eyes."

  "What eyes? I never see no eyes," Lucia Tamburo said.

  "The eyes. The kind women like," Rosa said.

  "Women like eyes that stay at home. Not go roaming around the neighborhood like a tomcat in heat," Nonna said. She snipped the end of the thread on the paste baby quilt she was making as a good luck charm for newlywed and as-yet-not-pregnant cousin Rosina. "He got eyes like that?"

  "He's been in jail for three years. He's gonna look at his woman, believe me." Rosa put down her sewing and gave Maria a nod. "He always like you. Whenever I go see him at Cedar Junction, he say, `Mamma, how's that. Maria? She was a looker.' "

  Mamma found a spool of black thread and straightened. "How he going to support my daughter with the jail on his record?"

  "Mamma, I'm not marrying Nicky. I'm only here to borrow-"

  "Are you saying my Nicky isn't good enough for your daughter?"

  "Beggars can't be choosers," Lucia said with a shrug. "Not at her age."

  "I am not that-"

  "Rosa, you know trouble hangs around Nicky like pigeons around a bakery." Mamma took a seat across from Rosa and picked up her wedding ring pattern y uilt.

  Rosa thrust a fist onto her hip. "Nicky is not trouble."

  "Then why is he in jail?" Nonna asked. "Three years is no vacation."

  "He didn't take that car. He borrowed it. How you expect him to get to work with no car?"

  Mamma waved a hand and let out a mutter of disagreement.

  "God gave him two legs," Nonna said. "And a subway system."

  "Nicky can't ride the T." Rosa heaved a sigh. "He's color blind."

  "Maria should date my grandson," Lucia piped up. "He's very good with color. You should see how he decorated the ladies' bathroom at the Sons of Italy hall. The boy knows his pinks." She emphasized the point with a needle.

  Maria knew the only way to end this. Offer herself up for sacrifice. "Actually, I have a date tonight."