A Family Affair: The Secret (23 page)

Now why would their son do that? Oh, goodness, please do not let him be cavorting with Natalie Servetti! Do not let that be the reason he and Angie broke up. But after a few seconds of hyperventilation, Natalie assured them their son was a friend, the first male friend she’d ever had.

Their hearts swelled when they heard this, but when the
Magdalena Press
article posted, then the rest of the town knew just how special Roman Ventori was and they were proud to call him one of their own. Sal bought five copies, sent one to Roman, saved three, and clipped one for the refrigerator door. Whenever they passed by the article, they stopped and read it again.

It’s a Baby Boom in Magdalena! The town extends a big welcome to its newest member, Joy Elizabeth Desantro, born at 5:03 p.m. at Magdalena General Hospital. Joy weighed in at 7 pounds, 3 ounces, nineteen and a quarter inches long. This little beauty joins her parents, Nathan and Christine, and her baby sister, Anna Nicolina. What an event this has been! The Desantros do nothing small-scale and having baby number two has been no exception. How many women have gone into labor in the dairy aisle of a grocery store? We’d bet not many, but that’s exactly what happened last Thursday afternoon, and thank goodness, Joy’s Aunt Lily was there to help with Anna. (At the risk of being categorized as “too much information,” Christine’s water broke seconds after she placed a gallon of milk in the cart.) This reporter will never pick up a gallon of milk at Sal’s Market again and not think of Joy Elizabeth Desantro.

Let’s extend a big thank you to Magdalena’s own Roman Ventori for his part in keeping the event quiet and the customers calm. Many of you spotted Roman around town these past several weeks. Ladies, could you miss a man like that? Tall, tanned, movie-star handsome with charm and wit, Roman filled in at Sal’s Market while his father recovered from a heart attack. Godspeed, Sal, we wish you good health. You taught your son well. Sorry, ladies. Roman’s back in Chicago now, but rumor has it we’ll see him over the holidays.

If you come across the Desantros out and about in the next few weeks, or any of their relatives—Lily and Miriam Desantro, Harry and Greta Blacksworth, A.J. and Lizzie, make sure to congratulate them on the birth of Joy Elizabeth Desantro, the newest dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty. And in case you didn’t know, the Desantros are expanding more than their family. Nate and Christine have begun the renovation of their home to make room for little Joy.

Note: This little charmer is bound to steal your heart and a smile, and joins Alexander Benjamin Reed, son of Ben and Gina (Servetti) Reed, and Teresina Lucinda Benito, daughter of Lucy Benito, granddaughter of Angelo “Pop” Benito.

Welcome, newest residents of Magdalena! God Bless!

***

Two weeks before Christmas—New York City

Angie sighed as Kate placed another bobby pin in her chignon. Jeans and T-shirts were her comfort zone, not a shimmery black evening dress that clung to her or three-inch heels that made it difficult to walk or sit or be herself. And what was with all this glittery jewelry? Was it really necessary for her neck, ears, wrists
and
fingers to sparkle with the stuff? According to Kate, it was. If Kate weren’t her best friend…and if this weren’t New York City…and if it weren’t the gala event displaying their miniature houses…and if…

“Hold still. You’re fidgeting and I can’t get these last bobby pins in.”

Big sigh. “I look ridiculous.”

Kate patted Angie’s chignon and said, “Perfect.”

Angie swung around, ignored the full-length mirror in front of her, and crossed her arms over her chest. “The last time I wore a dress was your wedding.”

“And you looked beautiful. If I recall, Rourke didn’t recognize you.”

“Rourke Flannigan didn’t recognize anybody because he was in a daze at your wedding.” She rolled her eyes. “He was even nice to me, imagine that.”

Kate laughed. “You and Rourke have had your moments, but I’d say you’ve reached an understanding.”

“Yeah, we stay out of each other’s way.” Angie shrugged, hid a smile. “Thanks for coming. I know it’s a lot to ask so close to Christmas, but I really appreciate it. Plus, I need you here to meet prospective clients.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” Kate clasped Angie’s hands, her blue eyes sparkling. She was so in love, so happy…
so lucky
. “The girls are thrilled for a chance to see New York in December, and Rourke knows how much I’ve missed you.”

When Angie returned to Montpelier several weeks ago, she’d worked nonstop to complete the other two projects: the Heart Sent and Nate and Christine’s log cabin. If she stayed busy, Roman Ventori didn’t invade her thoughts, weigh down her soul with recriminations and regrets of how life could have been had she been honest with him. She’d thought of calling him once or twice, but then she remembered the disgust and shock on his face the last time she saw him. He would have nothing to say to her. How could she have known she’d meet the flesh-and-blood version of the man she’d fantasized about in the magazines? And worse, that she’d fall in love with him? Angie did not find handsome hunks with sexy smiles and eyes that could undress a girl attractive—ever. And yet she had, and the only person who would understand how scared she’d been to risk her heart again—and worse, to
lose
her heart to a man—was Kate. Angie hadn’t made it past two days back in Montpelier before she called Kate and confessed the whole, sad story.

“Angie? Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine.” She forced a smile, nodded. “I wish we’d find out who commissioned these pieces and gave us this show, but the gallery manager says he doesn’t even know.” Angie made a face. “Rich people and their eccentricities.”

Kate glanced in the mirror, adjusted an earring, and said, “Do not talk about people and their eccentricities because you might not have a boatload of cash, but you’re definitely in that category.”

Angie laughed. “True. But who do you think it could be? I’m guessing someone from New York.”

“Rourke thought he spotted Candace Prescott a little while ago, but that’s big bucks and serious clout. I wouldn’t know what she looked like, but he’s seen her in his finance magazines. He says Prescott is one of the most powerful names in New York, and she runs the family investment business so I seriously doubt it’s her.”

“Yeah, not likely.”

“It doesn’t matter who it is; all that matters is somebody saw the houses and fell in love with them. They must have visited Magdalena and fallen in love with that, too. Who cares who put up the money and gave our business this exposure?” Her smile spread, her voice burst with enthusiasm. “And tomorrow, when we meet with potential clients, we’re going to get more business. This could be the beginning of something huge.”

“That husband of yours is pushing for a Chicago office, isn’t he?” It wasn’t a bad idea; actually, it was a great idea if the business could sustain the growth, and if tomorrow turned out as well as anticipated, they might be discussing a Chicago office. Still, Angie didn’t like Rourke Flannigan butting in.

“He’s a good businessman and he likes to see me happy.” Kate shrugged, slid a smile at Angie. “There are worse things.”

Like knowing you screwed up your chance at real happiness
. “I know, but that man does not get to be in charge of everything.”

Her best friend laughed and said, “Trust me, he’s not.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I’ll come and get you in fifteen minutes; just relax and practice your smile.”

“Funny.” Angie forced a smile. “See. Big smile.”

“Great job.” Kate kissed her cheek, gave her a quick hug, and said, “Now make that look real.”

She left Angie alone to try and relax and practice her smile and the small chit-chat she’d be expected to make. Ugh. What was the point of senseless chatter, and why were people obliged to participate in it? Angie had never been one for fluffy nonsense, either speaking it or listening to it. It wasn’t her style and she was horrible at it—h-o-r-r-i-b-l-e. She was so busy thinking about the many ways she failed at conversation and how she absolutely detested empty chatter, she didn’t hear the door open or the footsteps approaching, didn’t know anyone was in the room until a very male, very familiar voice spoke.

“Hello, Angie.”

She swung around and came face to face with Roman Ventori. She gasped, stared at the man who lived in her heart. He was more handsome than the last time she saw him, if that were possible, dressed in a black tux, the white of his shirt stark against his tanned face. His dark gaze was unreadable, his full lips straight, the brackets around his mouth, firm. “Roman?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and moved toward her, those eyes sliding from the tip of her fancy hairdo to the toes of her three-inch heels. “You look beautiful. Classy. Tempting.” His voice dipped and he finished with, “Untouchable.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “No one has ever used those words on me, but thank you.”

Roman shrugged. “I’d say the same thing about you if you had on a T-shirt and jeans.”

That
broke her heart all over again. She did not want to hear such sweet words pouring from him, making her wonder if they might have another chance. It would be too painful to live through another rejection. Angie cleared her throat, clasped her hands together, and said, “Thank you.”

“It’s just the truth.”

The truth
. The word pinged her brain, squeezed her belly. He’d accused her of not telling him the truth and that had killed their chances.

“You’ve got a big group out there,” he said. “Dad would be thrilled to see what you’ve done with his store.”

“I plan to send him pictures once the show’s done.”

He nodded. “He’d like that.” Pause, a shift from one foot to the other, and then, “I see the Desantros’ log cabin’s out there. How did you ever convince Nate to agree to put his house on display?”

Oh, but that was a story, though she doubted Nate Desantro wanted everyone to know about the kind, gentle side of him. He’d paid her a visit when he learned of her breakup and given her permission to replicate his home. That offer had almost made her cry. The replication was stunning, like the couple who lived there. Of course, it helped to have Christine Desantro backing her, and this is what she shared with Roman. “Nate has a very persuasive wife.”

“That helps.”

More staring.
Why was he here?
He couldn’t have known about the show unless he was looking for it.
Was
he looking for it? If so, why? There was only one way to find out, and if this had to be the last time she spoke to him for the rest of her life, she’d make it count. “What are you doing here?”

Roman ignored the question, asked one of his own. “What if I told you I came because I couldn’t stay away? That maybe I was wrong about you, and these last few months have been pure misery, and no matter how far I try to run—” he paused, placed a hand on his chest “—you’re still here.” He smiled, pointed to his head. “And here.”

She didn’t trust herself to interpret the meaning behind his words, not when she wanted it so badly. “I’d say I don’t understand vague references, and you should just tell me what you mean.”

His gaze narrowed the tiniest bit as if he were trying to figure out if she were playing him, or serious. “Rourke Flannigan contacted me, said you were friends with his wife, and he wanted to talk to me.”

Rourke Flannigan, her nemesis-turned-husband-of-her-best-friend?
“What on earth did he want?”

“He told me how he and Kate were torn apart, how they lived separate lives for fourteen years.” Roman moved toward her, his voice soft. “How after he finally found her, he almost lost her again.”

Angie nodded. “All true.”

“And he also told me you were responsible for helping get him and Kate back together, and he owed you.”

“Rourke Flannigan said he owed me? He actually said that?”

“He did, and he meant it. He told me a few other things, too, about how you’re loyal, trustworthy, and the best friend a person could have.” He rubbed his jaw, smiled. “Though now that I think of it, that does kind of sound like what people say about their dogs.”

She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin. “Did that man compare me to a dog?”

“No.” Roman laughed, his dark eyes bright. “I did that.”

“Well, thank you.” Angie tried to hide a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment since I like dogs better than most people.”

“I’ve missed you, Angie, and it took Rourke Flannigan to make me see I could keep my pride and fear of getting hurt and lose the one true love of my life.” He reached out, stroked her cheek. “I caved. I got the information about the show, called your father, and had a nice long conversation with him, asked him what he thought about his daughter living a plane ride away, or if he’d ever consider a move to Chicago. He was very agreeable to both.”

“Roman? What are you saying?” The air in the room fizzled and made it hard to breathe. Was he asking what she thought he was?
Could that even be possible?
She sipped air, tried to remain calm.

“Flannigan thought it was a good idea for you to move to Chicago, said you and his wife make a good team, and he had a few ideas—”