The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1) (7 page)

After struggling with the best way to approach Grace about the house, he’d finally texted her and asked to meet so they could chat. Jordan had suggested Marcellos after her lunch shift. They’d be on her turf, which would give her an added sense of protection. And when he left, there’d be plenty of people around to support her. He’d read some scary articles about the effects of stress on a pregnant mother, and he wanted to minimize it at all costs. Grace already looked fragile enough.

Walking through the elegant glass doors of the restaurant, he headed toward the back. The smell of rosemary, lemon, garlic, and basil mixed with roasted meat hung in the air. On other days, it would have made him hungry. Today, it made him feel more nauseated.
 

Adriana, the sultry, black-haired hostess, saw him coming and muttered something biting in Italian, making a rude gesture with her hand.

“Hello, Adriana,” he said warmly. “I’m here to see Grace.”

“Testa di cazzo,”
she replied.

“Yes, I’m an asshole,” he agreed with her, “but I’m here to make things right.”

“Imposibile,”
she responded. “You’ve been seen with more women than Don Giovanni—and right after you two broke up. You’re a pig!”

He bit his tongue, deciding it would be futile to try and explain. Plus, he had other problems. He’d been spotted by the only patrons left in the restaurant—an older couple dawdling over an afternoon espresso and a slice of ricotta and golden raisin cheesecake. The last thing he wanted was for Grace to be reminded of his fame.

He blew past Adriana and continued toward the back of the restaurant to the kitchen.

Ricardo, another waiter, glared at him and muttered something in Italian. Angelo, the busboy, stopped what he was doing the moment he saw Jordan. He flew back to the double doors of the kitchen. Jordan knew he was warning Grace.

God, he’d hoped things wouldn’t be so dramatic.
 

Before he could follow Angelo into the kitchen, Tony came through the doors.
 

Jordan didn’t bother trying to go around him. He knew the man would tell it to him straight. Tony’s honesty and general lack of interest in Jordan’s fame had made him a good friend. Jordan used to swing by the restaurant to pick up Grace after her shift, and he and Tony would have a nightcap more often than not. They’d even been to Italy together a few times.

“Let’s go to the bar, Jordan.” Tony stretched out a hand to direct him even though Jordan knew where it was.
 

Jordan nodded and followed him. Grace would come out when she was ready.
 

“I’ve missed the bar,” he said to be amiable…and also because it was true.

Made of stained glass, it depicted a Tuscan sunset, fields of sunflowers, rows of fat, purplish grapes on old vines, and an olive grove with young children playing amidst the gnarled trees. Tony had commissioned it in Italy, and despite all his traveling, it was still the most unique bar Jordan had ever seen.
 

He slipped onto a leather barstool. Tony slid his lean, runner’s frame onto the next stool. He wore a white chef’s apron over a black shirt and jeans. Tony didn’t wear the ugly chef’s pants from the catalogues. Like Jordan, he was a fashion snob and made no apologies about it.

Jordan nodded at Alfonso, the bartender, who was topping off some lemon-infused grappa. The guy muttered something in Italian before giving Jordan his back.
 

 
“Alfonso, give us some room,” Tony said in English.
 

The man scowled, but walked to the end and slipped out of the bar. Tony didn’t offer Jordan a drink. For a man famed for his hospitality, the gesture spoke volumes.

Jordan decided to bring it out first. “So, everyone’s pretty pissed at me.”

“An understatement,” Tony snorted, his aquiline nose lifting slightly. “Bodily harm was mentioned when Grace said you were coming today. Victor was more creative. He suggested poisoning by bad mushrooms. Apparently it’s particularly long and painful. I thought that was personally the best of the lot.”

“I’ll be sure not to order any food today,” he said, half jokingly.
 

Tony turned to face him. “Do you have any idea what this is doing to Grace? She is a proud woman. You two break up, and then she discovers she is with child while you’re off gallivanting with a bunch of groupies. You know what the media used to say about her. She is humiliated.”

Jordan ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I wanted this for her? Jesus, Tony. I was trying to get over her and took things too far. I didn’t know about the baby until last week. If I’d known earlier, I would have shut the rest of that down. I’m not a complete asshole.”
 

Tony went around the bar and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Jordan’s favorite grappa infused with lemon. It held the makings of a truce.
 

After pouring a larger portion for Jordan, Tony slid the glass across the bar. They both downed their drinks. The alcohol and lemon hit Jordan’s tongue, burning all the way down.

“Grace tells me she will not marry you, although I am glad you were willing to do the right thing. As you said, you’re not a complete asshole, just a misguided one.” Tony poured another round. “I would have poisoned you myself had you not offered. Since Grace is a wise woman, she must have her reasons. She tells me that we cannot all have a traditional family. I know she does not mean it.”

Jordan did not answer. Staring into his glass, he frowned.

Tony traced the bar’s wooden grooves after setting his glass aside. “She was planning on moving to Rome temporarily. After you broke up, Piero Ferantini from La Timora in Rome and Grace were going to exchange places for three months. We’ve been talking about a swap for a while now, but no one thought Grace would be the one to leave. When you broke up, she asked me to send her, and days before she left, she told me she was pregnant.”

The emotion in Tony’s voice gave Jordan a flavor for how difficult that conversation had been. “She told me about the trip. She’s always loved Rome.”

“I expressed my concerns since she was pregnant,” Tony said, “but she insisted on going anyway, saying she needed to get away and think.”

“I’m glad she came back early,” Jordan said, his relief enormous.

“Although she didn’t say so, I suspect she didn’t want to be in the States during the playoffs, especially since you—and your
friends
—were already making the news every other day. And no one makes cruel comments to her in Rome.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “She didn’t come back until a few weeks ago.”

Probably right around the time she made it past her first trimester. Things were starting to make more sense. “She was trying to escape for a while,” Jordan said. “I understand the feeling, but we need to deal with what’s in front of us.”
 

“She did good work in Rome, but she did not come back better, Jordan. Maybe she didn’t have enough time. Maybe it’s because she’s started to realize that her life will be different with a baby.”

Jordan felt sweat bead at his temple. “Yes, it will be. For both of us.”
 

Tony slapped him on the back. “She is not taking care of herself. Her morning sickness has been fierce. Working in a restaurant did not help. She could barely keep anything down. The sight of food caused her much upset.” Tony looked back toward the kitchen.

“I’ve read about the side effects of pregnancy, but I…don’t get it,” Jordan said, feeling like an idiot.

“She does not want to eat! I can barely coax her to eat three bites of her favorite sandwich. I thought there was something wrong with the prosciutto and Parmesan when I saw that she had not touched it. But it was fine.” Tony frowned. “We are trying to take care of her. I make her leave early, but she goes home alone, which is not good for her.”
 

No, it wasn’t good for either of them to bear such weight alone. The time he’d spent with his Once Upon a Dare brothers had buoyed him up some, but he knew Grace had been burrowing into her work.

“I make Grace sit and cook as much as possible so she is not on her feet all day,” Tony said. “You do not want to know how that suggestion went over in the beginning.”

All he could do was nod. Grace had always resisted special treatment, why would this be any different?

“She does not have that healthy glow that pregnant women are supposed to have, Jordan.”

“I’ll do something about it, Tony.” Standing up, Jordan set his glass on the counter. “Thanks for the grappa, and thanks for looking out for Grace.”
 

Jordan wasn’t willing to wait for Grace to come out any longer. He headed to the kitchen doors. The minute he walked in, everyone paused in their prep work. Grace looked up from smoothing mustard over a piece of beef tenderloin she’d sewn closed with a large needle. A visible tremor ran through her body when she saw him.

Carlo set aside the ladyfingers he was using for the tiramisu. Victor let his hands rest on the sea bass he’d been slicing open. Roberto ceased deveining plump, gray-and-black-striped tiger shrimp near the industrial sink. He let his blade wink in Jordan’s direction.
 

It was quite clear what would happen to him if Grace sent him away. He nodded to the guys, not planning to engage in some macho fest.

“Hello, Jordan,” Grace said, wiping her hands on her white apron and easing out of the chair Tony had mentioned.
 

“Hey, Grace,” he replied, studying her.

She was pale and drawn, and there was a glob of mustard dotting her middle like she’d been playing paintball.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” he asked.
 

“Sure,” she said cautiously. “Tony said he’d come get me when he was finished speaking with you.”

Since Tony hadn’t stopped him, he supposed he and his old friend had made some progress. “I guess the plan changed. He’s still at the bar.”

That news seemed to settle the rest of the kitchen staff, and Grace nodded and led Jordan to the break room. Cookbooks and magazines lined the shelves on one wall. Posters from Italy graced another. Grace pulled out two sparkling waters from the small mini-fridge beneath the shelves, and they sat at the table in the middle of the room.
 

He opened the bottle she gave him, the hiss sounding between them as the carbonation released. Jordan wasn’t sure where to start, so he went with his biggest concern. “How are you feeling?”
 

He watched her throat work as she swallowed. The new haircut made her neck seem more vulnerable. It was still a shock to see this new Grace.

“Fine. I hope you and the guys had fun.” She clenched her hands in her lap.

Fine?
He put his water down, shaking his head. Sometimes straight up the middle was the only way to make the play.
 

“We did, but I had trouble relaxing because all I could think about was you…us…the baby. I even won the Smuck award, so I had to parade around D.C. in a rainbow tutu. So, let’s not beat around the bush. I’m not fine, and you’re not fine.”
 

Her green eyes widened.

“Look, if Tony hadn’t said something, I would have seen it for myself. I thought it was the stress of telling me the other night, but you look pale and fragile. I’ve never seen you like this.” And it made his stomach clench.

She glared at him. “I know how I look. Do you think I’m happy about it?”
 

He hated to push her buttons, but maybe it was the only way he could get through to her right now.
 

“Do you really want this baby, Grace?” he asked harshly.

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“I know it’s a little late, but I would understand if you didn’t. I mean, it sucks, right? We break up after you tell me you can’t wait for me to ask you to marry me and start a family, and then
boom
, you find out you’re having my kid. This certainly isn’t your dream life, and here I am again, making you miserable.”
 

“You have a nerve, talking to me like this,” she said, the words close to a snarl.

“Do I?” He kept his face straight. “I mean, you deserve credit for that type of thing. It must be awful, being such a martyr.”

He watched her raise her hand and waited for the shove.

“A martyr?” she cried. “Where do you get off calling me that? Or telling me that you’d understand if I don’t want this baby? Of course I want this baby! You do too.”

“You’re damn right I do!” he said, raising his voice.
 

Grace leaned back in her chair as if the wind had been taken out of her, eyes suspiciously wet. “Then why are you saying all of this?”

“Because I want you to start taking care of yourself. Grace, it kills me to see you like this. And it makes me feel even guiltier than I already do.” He paused, putting up both hands. “That’s my problem. But this isn’t going away. We need to deal with it.”

“I know that, Jordan. Do you think I like feeling like this?”
 

He took her hand out of instinct. She froze and started to pull it back.