Overview
Can a closeted executive find love with a handsome bartender?
After weathering a bitter divorce amongst rumours of his sexual preference, Dalton Montgomery finds solace at his favourite new restaurant Bella Lucina's. His lunches spent talking to the restaurant's bartender, Sal, get him through the lonely days and nights. When Dalton begins to feel attracted to the hunky bartender, his world spins out of control.
Had his ex-wife been right?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780857151292 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Totally Entwined Group |
| Publication date: | 04/19/2010 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 41 |
| Sales rank: | 343,759 |
| File size: | 320 KB |
| Age Range: | 18 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Checking the address against his secretary's scrawl on the piece of paper, Dalton entered Bella Lucina's. As soon as he stepped into the cavernous restaurant, he was impressed. Why haven't I been here before? Oh yeah, because Cathy hadn't liked Italian food.
The thought of his ex-wife doused any chance of a decent mood for the day. Walking up to the hostess stand, Dalton waited his turn in line.
"May I help you, Sir?" the lovely blonde asked.
"Yes. Dalton Montgomery. I have a reservation at twelve-thirty."
The hostess checked her large leather-bound book. "Yes, Mr. Montgomery. Your party called to say he was running late. He asked that you please wait for him. Would you care to do that in the bar?"
Dalton gave a nod and strode across the marble tiled floor to the separate lounge. Looking around at the tables, he opted for a seat at the bar. He was impressed once again by the luxury and warmth of the décor.
"What'll you have?" the bartender asked.
"Just an iced tea, please. I'm waiting for my lunch appointment to arrive."
"Coming right up."
The bartender grinned and turned to walk to the end of the bar. Dalton watched the man's back as his muscles moved under the white tailored dress shirt. Wow, this was a fancy place. He didn't know if he'd ever been to a restaurant where the hired help could afford tailored clothing.
He refused to acknowledge the way the overhead lights played off the man's black curls, or the way the tendons in the bartender's olive skinned forearms bunched and moved with his actions. Nope, he refused to acknowledge any of it. What Cathy had claimed in court was simply not true.
Memories of the humiliation he'd been served at the hands of his wife of thirteen years assaulted him. Dalton ran his fingers through his hair, the coarse texture reminding him of his hair colour. Cathy had tried in vain for years to get him to cover the grey, but he figured why bother. He wondered if he should give it some thought now that there was more grey than dark brown.
"Problems?" the bartender asked, setting down his glass.
Dalton smiled at the friendly face. He'd been lonely for conversation lately. When Cathy had started her campaign to discredit him, his friends had dropped off, one by one. "Life," he finally answered.
"I hear you." The bartender stuck out his hand. "I'm Sal."
Surprised by the friendly gesture, he shook the offered hand. "Dalton."
"Nice to meet you, Dalton."
When Sal didn't move away, Dalton looked around. It was then he noticed the near empty room he sat in. "Not much of a crowd," he commented.
"Nope. Lunch is pretty slow in the bar. Most of the executives don't come in to drown their sorrows until after five." Sal winked.
A wink? Was he being flirted with? Before he could dwell on it, his lawyer tapped him on the shoulder. "Hungry?" Brad asked.
Dalton nodded and Brad walked off towards the dining room. Dalton turned back to Sal. "It was nice to meet you."
"The pleasure was mine. Come by for lunch tomorrow if you can." Sal smiled, flashing Dalton twin dimples. "Or at least another glass of tea. On the house, of course."
Dalton nodded. "Thanks. I just might do that." He left his empty glass on the bar next to a twenty.
"Hey," Sal hollered after him. "You forgot your change."
"Keep it," Dalton grinned. He refused to identify the reason for his lightened mood. Sal was just a nice guy, easy to talk to, that was all.
* * *
"Sorry, Boss. Janet's car wouldn't start," Greg related, putting on an apron.
"No problem," Sal answered, still watching the doorway Dalton had disappeared through. "As a matter of fact," he uttered, rubbing his chin. "I might switch your hours for a couple of days. Why don't you come in at one for the next week?"
Greg's eyes rounded. "Sure. Have I done something wrong?"
"Not at all," Sal stated. "I find I miss talking to the customers, without having to fawn all over them."
"You're the boss," Greg agreed, and moved to fill a drink order.
Rounding the end of the bar, Sal crossed his restaurant and peered into the dining room. He spotted Dalton immediately. The hostess had set him next to the window looking out onto the street. The man's silver hair seemed to almost sparkle in the sunlight.
Sal's cock started to harden as he thought of the cornflower blue eyes that had studied him from across the bar earlier. Fuck. I don't even know if he's gay.
Disgusted with himself, Sal slipped through the crowd towards the kitchen. He wanted to make sure Dalton's meal was perfect. What better way to entice a man back than with wonderful food. Sal smiled. Well, there were other ways, but first he needed to find out if Dalton was interested.
He walked up to the head chef and wrapped his arm around the shorter man's neck. "How's it going, baby brother?"
Gino looked at him and rolled his eyes. "You need to call Roberto's. They screwed up our clam order again."
"Too little?" Sal asked.
"No, too much. They'll go bad before we get them served."
Sal nodded. "I'll get in touch with Lee. See if he wants to discount 'em or come get them. If I can talk him down in price, be prepared to create something wonderful as the special for the next few days."
"Easy for you to say," Gino laughed.
Sal gave his brother a kiss on the cheek. "Do me a favour and make sure number twenty-three's meal is perfection."
Gino's eyebrows rose. "Critic?"
"Nope. Prospect," he boasted, with a waggle to his brows.
"Should've known. You're always on the make."
Sal's jaw dropped and he grabbed his chest. "Liar. I haven't had a date in almost a month." Three weeks, four days and around fifteen hours but who was counting.
Shaking his head, Gino chuckled. "I'll wow him just for you."
Sal gave Gino another smooch. "Thanks."
* * *
Dalton pushed his plate back and rubbed his flat stomach. Usually in places like this, the food was overpriced and barely enough to feed a bird. That was definitely not the case with Bella's.
He'd listened to Brad for nearly thirty minutes and his brain was ready to explode. "So?" Brad prompted.
"What?" Dalton asked, trying his best to get back into the conversation.
"When are we going to schedule an appointment to redo your estate holdings? There's the will, the trust, the investments? Everything still lists Cathy as your beneficiary."
Dalton shrugged. "I'll have to think about it. Maybe I'll come up with a worthwhile charity. Lord knows I have no one of importance to leave the whole lot to." Sometimes he'd wished his parents had given him siblings before they died. That reminded him. He'd be alone for the holidays for the first time in fourteen years. He still remembered the first Thanksgiving Cathy had taken him home to meet her family.
The thought of losing the only real family he'd ever been around caused a lump to form in his throat. The Jones family had welcomed him with open arms. Dalton suspected it had a great deal to do with the reason he'd proposed to Cathy in the first place.
He felt his eyes begin to burn. Little did he know, on the day his wife filed for divorce she'd taken her family with her. Once again he was pretty much alone in the world. Stop it! He chastised himself. Pick yourself up and move on. That's what his lawyer kept telling him anyway.
Dalton flagged the waiter down and asked for a to-go box. He knew it wasn't usually done in upscale restaurants, but it beat the hell out of ordering pizza again for dinner.
Leftovers in hand, Dalton stood. "I'll think about what you said and get back to you."
Brad studied him for several seconds. "Are you going to be okay?"
Dalton rolled his eyes. He knew his lawyer was only after one thing and that was making sure his gravy train didn't have a nervous breakdown. "I'm fine."
He followed Brad through the dining room. If his eyes strayed to the bar on their way out, it just meant he was curious to see if business had picked up. Sal had absolutely nothing to do with it. Or so he told himself for the next twenty-three hours.
* * *
After wiping his clammy hands on a handkerchief, Dalton opened one of the big double doors. Walking in, he acknowledged the hostess and pointed towards the bar. The same blonde haired woman who'd helped him the previous day nodded and smiled.
With his stomach in knots, Dalton entered the fairly empty room. Sal was there, behind the bar with a smile. He was on the phone, but pointed towards a fresh glass of iced tea. Dalton took a seat and drank about half of it.
"Wow, you were thirsty," Sal commented, hanging up the phone.
Dalton gestured to his half-empty glass. "How'd you know I'd show up?"
"Didn't," Sal responded with a grin. "But I hoped."
Suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable, Dalton looked around the room. "So ... can I eat in here?"
"Sure," Sal approved, and handed him a menu from under the bar. "Our special today is linguine with red clam sauce."
Dalton shook his head. "Thanks, but that's a little heavy for lunch."
"I'd suggest Gino's Panzanella Salad then. The mozzarella is fresh and out of this world."
Dalton read the description under the dish, made with day old, crusty bread, fresh tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese. He closed his menu and slid it across the bar. "Sounds perfect."
Sal nodded and picked up the inhouse phone. He placed Dalton's order before returning with a pitcher of tea. After filling his glass, Sal set the pitcher on the bar. "I'll keep this close in case you need a refill."
"Thanks," he said. "It's getting pretty hot outside."
"You walk over?" Sal asked.
"Yeah. My office is only about four blocks from here." Dalton shook his head. "Don't ask me why I haven't been in before. It's a long story."
Sal's eyebrows rose. "Really? Is it an interesting one?"
Dalton couldn't help returning Sal's million dollar smile. Something about the guy just made him leave his troubles behind. "Not particularly. My wife ... ex wife, detested Italian food. She was the kind who lived on salads and hundred-dollar-a-plate bird food."
Sal's olive skin face screwed up. "Yeah. I know the type." Sal leaned his forearms on the bar and leaned forward. "So ... How long has this wife been an ex?"
Dalton was a little surprised Sal would ask something so personal. What really surprised him was that he didn't mind telling him. He suddenly saw the appeal of telling his troubles to a man behind a bar. "Cathy left me almost a year and a half ago, but the legal crap drug out until a couple of weeks ago."
Sal held out his hand. "Well then, congratulations on being released from the bird cage."
Laughing, Dalton shook Sal's hand. He refused to admit to himself how good Sal's hand felt in his. The phone behind the bar began to ring, breaking their contact. "Hold on," Sal said. "It's probably your food."
"My food's calling you?" Dalton chuckled. He knew it was a dumb thing to say, but he was out of practice. He stopped. Out of practice at what? Oh my fucking god. Am I flirting?
CHAPTER 2"Hi, Tanya," Dalton greeted, strolling by the hostess stand to his usual bar stool. He'd been coming in like clockwork every work day for the last two months. He grinned at Sal as he took his seat and drained half the glass of tea.
"What'll you have?" Sal asked as usual.
"Give me that thing with the shrimp in the pasta with tomatoes?" He was floundering and he knew that. He could never remember the names of the dishes he liked. Luckily, Sal always remembered.
"Coming right up," Sal replied, picking up the in-house phone.
Dalton reached over and snagged a couple of olives from the divided tray. "How's business?" he asked before popping them in his mouth.
Sal looked around the empty bar. "I can barely keep up," he finally said. Like he'd done for the previous several weeks, Sal came around the bar and sat one stool away from Dalton.
"How's work?" Sal asked.
"Hectic. This is the only break I give myself from seven in the morning when I get in, to nine at night when I finally drag myself home. It's good though, I guess. I mean, who can complain about business being good." He'd already told Sal on one of his previous visits that he owned an investment firm. "With the economy the way it is, I'm in awe that there are even a few people with money left to invest."
"People are thinking more and more about their future," Sal commented. "With no guarantee that social security will be there when we reach old age, people are finally learning to take care of themselves."
"Yep, and thank god for that," Dalton agreed. It was always so easy to talk to Sal. For a bartender, the man was damn smart. Dalton often thought about offering him a job in his company. Sure Sal would have to start towards the bottom, but with a mind like he had, it wouldn't take long at all for him to move up the ranks.
When Sal didn't say anything, Dalton looked over. Sal was looking at him in a way Dalton couldn't interpret. "What?"
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
Dalton smiled. "You can ask, doesn't mean I'll answer."
"Fair enough." Sal grinned back at him. "What happened between you and your wife? I mean, whose idea was the divorce?"
Dalton's brows shot up. He hadn't really expected that question. Sal was the closest thing he had to a friend. Bella's had become his one and only sanctuary. "She left me."
"Why?" Sal prodded.
Dalton shrugged. He didn't want to lose Sal like he'd lost the rest of his friends. "She said we weren't compatible. She wanted more than I was able to give her." He hadn't lied. Cathy did say those things about him. Of course she'd said a hell of a lot of other things as well.
Sal put his hand on Dalton's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "Do you still love her?" His first thought was that no one had touched him with so much caring and concern in years. And Lord help him, but it felt good. Damn good. His second thought was why was Sal asking him these questions?
Dalton weighed his options. He could refuse to answer, but would that break his new friendship with this man? "No. I don't know that I ever was truly in love with her."
Sal released Dalton's shoulder and covered his hand which rested on the bar. "So why do you seem so sad about it?"
The touch of Sal's hand on his was like a brand making him feel things he had no business feeling. He withdrew his hand from under Sal's. "Can I get my order to go? I just remembered a meeting I need to attend."
Sal stood and looked into Dalton's eyes. "I didn't mean to push."
He shook his head. "It's not that. Really. I just have something I need to do."
"Will you be back? Or have I screwed everything up?"
Looking into Sal's eyes, Dalton could see that his answer was genuinely important to his new friend. "You've got the best food in town. How could I stay away?"
Then Sal did something that surprised the hell out of him. He leaned forward and gave Dalton a hug. After a few seconds, Sal thumped Dalton on the back. "I'm glad I didn't lose a friend today."
Dalton's throat was in a twist of knots. There was no possible way he could've replied to either the embrace or the statement. All too soon, Sal's arms released him. "I'll go to the kitchen and prepare your food to-go."
"Thanks," Dalton was able to mutter.
He watched Sal walk from the bar towards the back of the restaurant. What is it that I'm feeling? Everything Cathy accused him of slammed him in the face. Dalton rocked back on his heels and held on to the bar, afraid he'd fall on his ass. With a shake of his head, he turned and practically ran from the restaurant.
* * *
Stomach rumbling, Dalton leaned back in his executive's chair and tossed his pen onto the desk. It served him right for running out of Bella's like a scared schoolgirl.
He hadn't been able to get Sal off his mind or his attraction to the handsome Italian man. Pushing his thoughts aside once again, Dalton picked up the phone and called Ben.
"Hello?"
"Ben, it's Dalton. How the heck are you? I haven't talked to you in a while."
"I'm good, good."
Dalton spun his chair around to look out the window of his twelfth floor office. "Look, I was hoping you might be available for dinner this evening. I thought we might catch up on what we've both been up to?"
Ben cleared his throat. Clearly, he was trying to come up with an excuse, just like he'd done every other time Dalton had called. "Um ... I already have plans, Dalton."
Dalton's heart dropped. Ben had been his closest friend before the divorce. He knew in his gut this would be the last time he ever talked to him. "Okay. Sorry to have bothered you. Ben?"
"Yeah?"
Dalton sat there for several seconds gripping the phone so tightly his fingers started to ache. "Take care," he managed to get out. He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Dalton's Awakening"
by .
Copyright © 2010 Carol Lynne.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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