After being betrayed by her ex-boyfriend and her sister, Yuliana Darling packed up and moved to the other side of the country. Consoled by her bookstore and her patrons, she lives a modest and simple life.
That is, until she gets an invitation to at...
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Yuly could not sit still in the booth of Nonna's small Italian diner, waiting for Gray to make his appearance. Though she took a few days to plan her proposition, down to everything she was going to say and had the documents before her, anxiety swelled in the pit of her stomach. She jumped slightly at every server that passed, glancing over her shoulder with feet tapping away at the hard floor.
Though the version of the handsome amnesiac in her dreams could not get enough of her, the one in real life hated her to the point that he barely wanted to speak to her. Just remembering last week's encounter sent shivers throughout her body.
Never talk to me again, He told her then. By the look in his eyes, the sheer conviction in his voice, she knew he meant it. And, true to her word, Yuly fully planned on honoring his wishes—especially when she was having such mortifying dreams about the man. She didn't want to see his shadow, let alone his face.
But desperate times require desperate measures and, no matter how much she thought about it, he was the only reasonable option she had left. She had no choice but to swallow her pride. And, after speaking with Nonna when the older woman frequented her bookstore, she knew the deal she made was more than beneficial for them both. Everything was going to be okay.
But no matter how many times she told herself that, her feet tapped away at her resolve. Even now, as her feet tapped, she was on the verge of jumping from her seat and dashing away from the restaurant.
After a few moments of thinking, her feet stopped. Closing her eyes, she sat her chin in her hand, a defeated sigh falling from her lips. This was a terrible idea. She should just go home and pretend that she didn't think of it. Call her mother and...and tell her she was sick. Caught the flu, or a stomach virus. Anything so she didn't have to go home and admit the truth, so she didn't have to face the man who haunted her dreams like an incubus at all hours of the day.
Yuly was so concentrated on her thoughts that she had not noticed the tall, intimidating man approach her or hear his heavy footsteps against the hard floor. But when she felt his gaze, she knew, even without opening her eyes, who it was.
She opened her eyes slowly, looking up to meet the familiar steely gaze of the Italian amnesiac. Clad in a crisp Chef's uniform, he looked like something out of a dream. Muscular arms straining the white fabric, dark hair messy as though he had just run a hand through it, he looked delectable. At the thought, she felt her cheeks heat. His sharp jaw hardened as his apathetic gaze studied her in silence.
But it was too late to turn back. The man she was waiting for was already staring down at her expectantly, and she had gone through hoops to set up this meeting through Nonna.
"What do you want?" His tone was harsh, void of any warmth. No formalities, and no pleasantries.
Yuly cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. "Hi," She smiled brightly, gesturing to the seat before her. "Please, have a seat." When he didn't move, she added. "This won't take long, I promise."
