Sharleen fanned a hand to her face. An umbrella shielded the booth from the sun, a lavish flower arrangement dressed the table and lanterns cast a soft glow around the patio.
“The peach cobbler was an excellent choice. It’s one of my favorites.”
The waiter had a goofy expression on his face and was staring adoringly at Sharleen.
“Thanks,” Emilio said curtly. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
The waiter didn’t move. Sharleen felt uncomfortable, as if she were under a microscope. But when Emilio squeezed her hand, her anxiety disappeared. She liked when he touched her, couldn’t get enough of his gentle caress. She felt as if her mind and body disconnected whenever he was around. Get it together. You’re a successful, accomplished woman. Not a tween girl on her first date!
“I don’t mean to be rude, but we’d like to have some privacy.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Morretti.” Smiling sheepishly, the waiter gave a polite nod. “Enjoy your dessert, miss. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you.”
The waiter left, and Emilio grinned broadly. “Finally. I thought he’d never leave!”
Laughing, Sharleen picked up her fork and cut into her peach cobbler.
“The waiter definitely likes you.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Can’t say I blame him, though. You’re stunning.”
“Why would he be interested in me?” she asked, ignoring his compliment. “I’m a businesswoman, not a bombshell.”
“Are you saying businesswomen can’t be sexy?”
No. But I’m not.
“Intelligence and confidence are what makes a woman irresistible, and you possess both qualities in spades.” His voice deepened, dropped to a husky whisper. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and the more time we spend together the more I’m attracted to you.”
Sharleen forced herself to keep her mouth shut, told herself not to indulge him. Flirting with a client was never a good idea, and since she didn’t want Emilio to think she had feelings for him, she dodged his gaze and continued eating her dessert.
“How long have you been dating Antwan?”
Sharleen choked on her peach cobbler. To alleviate the burning sensation in her chest, she picked up her glass and sipped her drink. “Antwan and I are friends, and nothing more,” she said. “He’s like the brother I never had.”
“That’s great news—” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out and stared at the screen. “It’s my sister. Do you mind?”
“No, not at all. Take as long as you need.”
“Ciao, Francesca. Che succede? Tutto bene?”
While Emilio was on the phone, Sharleen sent Jocelyn a text message. She hadn’t heard from her friend all day and wanted to see if she was okay. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Sharleen sank back against the plush cushions and crossed her legs.
Sharleen’s gaze fell on Emilio, and she spent several minutes examining his strong facial features. He spoke in Italian, but his furrowed eyebrows and clipped tone suggested he was angry. Ending his call, he dropped his iPhone on the table.
“Is everything okay?”
“Sometimes I feel like a human ATM machine,” he complained, pressing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “My sister blew through her monthly allowance again, and she needs a loan to tide her over until the end of the month.”
“Her monthly allowance? Is she a college student?”
Amusement filled his eyes. “No, higher learning isn’t exactly her thing.”
“What does she do for a living?” Sharleen asked.
“You mean besides shopping at Lenox Square?”
Emilio finished his wine, then settled back in the booth. He looked calm, as relaxed as a sunbather on the beach, but she sensed his unease. “Did your sister move with you to Atlanta?”
“Francesca got pregnant shortly after she graduated from high school, and to avoid a scandal in my hometown, my father sent her here to live with me,” he explained. “At the time she was an aspiring model working with several Italian fashion houses, but she put her career on hold to raise Lucca.”
“How did you feel about your father’s decision?”
“I thought it was great, and when my nephew was born, it brought us even closer together.”
“Having a baby in the house must have cramped your style.”
“No, not at all. I adored Lucca, and I raised him as my own.” Emilio sighed deeply. “It’s been two years since he passed away, but I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
Sharleen moved closer and rested a hand on his shoulder.