Free No Longer Needed by Brenda Grate

closed her eyes and swallowed, then opened them again and pasted on a huge smile.
    “Auntie Con, how nice to see you.”
    Connie set the plates on the table in front of Jen and the man across from her.
    “Did you not expect to see me? This is my restaurant after all.”
    Connie examined Jen’s face, surprised. Jen had never looked so embarrassed or nervous before. Her date smiled up at Connie with a flash of white teeth in a dark face.
    Wow.
    “You’re Jen’s aunt?” He got to his feet and stuck out a hand.  
    Connie looked up, way up, at him.
    “You’re tall,” she said as she grabbed his hand. She gave it a quick business-like shake and let go. She wasn’t going to let him think he could charm Jen’s aunt so easily.
    “Yes, I am.” He laughed easily. “I’m Dimitri. Dimitri Petrakis. It’s nice to meet you …”
    “Connie.”
    “Connie.” He sat back in his seat and smiled at Jen. “You didn’t tell me this was your aunt’s restaurant.”
    A blush crept into Jen’s face.
    Connie had to struggle to keep her mouth from dropping open. What the hell was wrong with her? She looked back at Dimitri, her eyes narrowed.
    “I didn’t know if Auntie Con would be in or not.”
    She knows I’m always here.
    Connie patted Dimitri’s arm, then gave Jen a little stronger than necessary shoulder squeeze. She stared hard at her, then stepped back and smiled at them.  
    “Well, I’ll let you get on with your dinner. Buon appetito!”
    “Thanks, Auntie.”
    “Yes, thank you, Connie. It was nice to meet you.”
    She waved and headed back to the kitchen. She’d have to keep an eye on that young man. She’d never worried for her niece before. Jen had always been able to handle herself around men. She’d kept the upper hand, so Connie had never worried for more than a few minutes that her heart would be in danger. This man, this exotic-looking man with built-in charm to spare … he could do damage—on a nuclear level.

Chapter 12

    As Connie swung open the kitchen door, someone caught her eye and she paused before entering, her heart leaping into her throat.
    Damn!
    It was Archie McDougall, the owner of The Bar, a chain of restaurants that, in her opinion, littered the streets of Toronto. He was a self-made millionaire and had no qualms about telling everyone how he’d made his money and how one day he would also own Il Giardino.
    She continued into the kitchen while she thought about what to do. She opened the walk-in cooler door and closed it behind her. It could be opened from the inside and it was quiet, so it had become one of Connie’s favorite places to think, especially when she got hot under the collar.
    McDougall was having dinner alone in one of the coveted spots near the large window overlooking a beautiful park, which meant he had to have booked the table at least a month ahead. A month ago, Connie had thrown him out on his pudgy ass for insisting yet again that she would eventually sell him her beloved restaurant. He’d finally pushed her too far and Connie yelled at him to get out of her restaurant and never come back. And there he sat like he owned the world.
    Connie flew out of the cooler, fists balled, seeing red. A pair of arms grabbed her around the waist and she landed back against a solid male body. She smelled a familiar scent.
    “It’s not worth it, Con,” Rick whispered. “He’ll just keep coming back.”
    She swung around and out of his grip. “Can’t I get a restraining order or something?”
    “Seriously? He’s never caused any public disturbances, and you run a restaurant that is open to the public. You’d have to have more to go on than that he wants to buy the place.”
    “He’s harassing me,” Connie sputtered.
    “Maybe. But he’d have to come here more often than once every few months to constitute harassment, don’t you think?”
    Connie stamped a foot, and Rick laughed. “I love it when you do that. I can suddenly picture a six year old Connie who isn’t