Free Ask Mariah by Barbara Freethy Page B

move. She should have been glad he was gone, but a part of her wanted him to come back.
     
    * * *
     
    "I'm glad you're back," Vincent said to Tony as they walked through the main dining room of De Luca's restaurant. As his father stopped to confer with one of the waitresses, Tony took in a deep breath, assaulted by the familiar scents of garlic, onion, olive oil, rosemary, and basil. The aroma of warm focaccia bread just out of the oven, mixed with the tangy scent of tomato sauce, made him hungry, not just for the food but for the past, for the family he had missed this last year.
    He walked farther into the center of the room. De Luca's had changed little over the years. It was still a first-class dining room with quality linens and crystal. The luxurious, intimate booths around the periphery of the room were lit by hand-painted lamps that graced the center of each table. The thick carpet, the photographs on the wall, the carefully placed vases, and the fresh flowers made one think of home, of romance, of tradition, of family.
    That's what De Luca's was all about. The dining room was filled every night with extended family, neighbors, and friends who dined regularly at the restaurant, rarely looking at the menu but simply asking Louis or Vincent to make one of their special dishes for them.
    The restaurant still drew celebrities, not the types who wanted to be seen, but those who wanted good food, privacy, respect, and a sense of home. He had grown up working at the restaurant, bussing tables, helping in the kitchen, serving, hosting, tending bar; anything and everything that needed to be done, he had done it. Not willingly, not with his heart, but out of duty and lack of funds.
    His father had instilled in him the idea that one day he would run De Luca's with Frank. Tony had let the idea float for years. After all, who was he to turn his back on a ready-made job? He even majored in restaurant management because it was easier to go along with the plan than fight it, especially when he didn't have any better ideas.
    He'd spent years sailing all day and bartending all night. Damn, he'd wasted a lot of time. A decade of his life had slipped by before he'd even noticed. It had taken Angela's death to shake him out of his aimlessness, although he doubted anyone else in the family would realize that. They thought he'd simply run away.
    Okay, so he had run away. But he had also worked hard the past year, running charters, bartending, even dealing blackjack on a floating casino. He'd banked his money instead of spending it, working two and three jobs so he could afford freedom. Finally, with a lot of hard work and a little luck at the poker table, he'd managed to buy his own boat. He didn't know quite what he was going to do with it, but it was a start.
    Now he just had to convince his father that his self-imposed hiatus was going to continue forever, that he wasn't ever coming back.
    Stepping behind the gold marble-topped bar, he studied the myriad of bottles on the shelf. He needed a drink to get through the next few minutes. A little buzz to dull the shouting when it began, and he knew it would begin. His father had never been one to discuss things calmly and quietly.
    He picked up a bottle of tequila and poured himself a shot. The liquid burned his throat in a deliciously familiar way. He poured himself another shot.
    "Are you planning to pay for those?" a woman asked sharply.
    He turned in surprise. De Luca's had always been a family-owned and operated business. Most of the waitresses were related to him in some form or fashion, but not this woman, with her red hair, snapping blue eyes, and pale, lightly freckled skin. Her voice had a lilt to it. Irish, he guessed.
    "Who are you?" he asked.
    "I might be asking you the same question. We're not open yet."
    "This place is always open for me. I'm the owner."
    "Are you now? And I suppose you'll be saying your name is Frank or Vincent next."
    "Tony," he said with a grin. "Anthony