Recipe for Love: A Small Town Romance (Sugar Springs Book 5)

Book 5: Sugar Springs

by Alexa Aston

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; American Romance; Small-town Romance; small town romance; contemporary romance series; small town romance series; Alexa Aston; Texas Romance; small town doctor; Sugar Springs

Synopsis

A chef digging her way out of debt. A doctor making a huge career move. Two dedicated professionals who think they are too busy for love . . . .

Viviana Romano leaves her small East Texas town after high school graduation and lives with relatives in Tuscany for three years, learning to cook  the food of her ancestors. When she comes home from her years abroad, she lands a job at a steakhouse in Dallas, falling for a moody chef who winds up sinking Vivi into massive debt. Four years later—and finally debt-free—Vivi returns to her hometown and takes over Romano’s, her parents’ pizza parlor, with ambitious plans for the restaurant.

As a boy, emergency room physician Ford Carpenter spent summers in Sugar Springs with his aunt and uncle, who were childless and always treated Ford as if he were their son. Facing burnout from eighteen-hours days managing a busy Houston ER, he agrees to go into practice with his uncle, eager to practice a different kind of medicine.

While reclaiming his life and settling into Sugar Springs and a slower pace of life, Ford begins a romance with a reluctant Vivi, who is drawn to the handsome doctor and yet hesitant to commit to a relationship after being burned in the past.

Will Vivi be able to risk her heart and find a future with Ford—or will the demons of her past doom their relationship from the start?

Find the answer in Recipe for Love, Book 5 in Sugar Springs.

Each book in this contemporary small town romance series is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order. Read for free with Kindle Unlimited.

Series Order:

1 – Shadows of the Past: A Small Town Romance (Sugar Springs Book 1)

2 – Learning to Trust Again: A Small Town Romance (Sugar Springs Book 2)

3 – A Perfect Match: A Small Town Romance (Sugar Springs Book 3)

4 – A Fresh Start: A Small Town Romance (Sugar Springs Book 4)

5 – Recipe for Love: A Small Town Romance (Sugar Springs Book 5)

Release date: September 19, 2023

Publisher: Oliver-Heber Books

Print pages: 248

Sample

ROLOGUE

Dallas

 

“Where’s the fiery girl I’ve known my entire life?” Dante demanded. “The one who always stuck up for herself, as well as the underdog? Face it, Vivi. You’ve become a doormat.”

Viviana Romano opened her mouth to protest and then pressed her lips together. Her brother was right. Though sometimes he could irritate her to no end, as only an older sibling could, they had always been honest with each other and supported one another through thick and thin. Dante was just calling it like he saw it. She had let Beck walk all over her.

Because she loved him.

And it was time to change things.

Dante took a sip of his wine and set down the glass. “This is your wake-up call, little sis,” he continued. “I’ve sat back and kept my mouth shut because I knew you were crazy about the guy—even though I think he’s been using you from the beginning.”

The realization ran through her that Dante had hit the nail on the head. Vivi had felt used for a long time now, but she had made excuses for Beck, over and over, while he blamed his childhood. His parents. His circumstances. The market. She had always nodded sympathetically and taken care of him—and everything. She’d paid the bills. Done for him things he should have done for himself.

No more. She was turning over a new leaf. Getting back to who she truly was. Beck could either climb aboard the Viviana train.

Or he could go to hell.

“You’re right, Dante. Things need to change if I’m going to stay with Beck.”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said in two years, Vivi. Hallelujah. Don’t let Beck talk you out of anything. Don’t make any compromises—because if you do, he’ll continue to eat you alive. He’s one of those energy vampires. He just drains and drains and drains you until nothing is left.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” She placed her hand atop his. “Thanks for the glass of wine and the pep talk, big brother. I’m going to go home now and confront him. It’s time I stick up for myself.”

Dante walked Vivi to her car, and she drove to the small bungalow where she and Beck lived. The house was in his name since his parents had given him the down payment for it a few months before she and Beck had met, but she was the one who paid the mortgage each month. It was a struggle for her, but she paid all the bills because her lover put everything he had into the small restaurant he had opened fourteen months ago.

The public didn’t realize how many restaurants floundered versus those which flourished. One in three restaurants didn’t even survive their first year. And two out of three didn’t make it past three years. Even though Beck was a talented cook, Il Giardino was on the edge of going under every single month.

That’s why Vivi paid the bills. She worked two jobs to do so, hers at the steakhouse, and then she spent the rest of her waking hours at Il Giardino, doing whatever needed doing. Prepping. Cooking. Busing tables. Keeping the books. Cleaning the restrooms. She wished she could quit her job and work at Il Giardino full-time—shopping for food, planning the menus, cooking full-time. Beck would never allow that, though. Once, he had admitted to her that he was jealous of her cooking skills and acknowledged that she was a much better chef than he was. He also needed her bringing in money.

She parked and entered their house, finding the TV and lights still on. No matter how many times she had asked Beck to turn off things to save money on their electric bill, he blithely ignored her. Aaron Beckham came from an extremely wealthy Highland Park family in Dallas and had never had to consider such things, while Vivi had grown up in a frugal household. She had never lacked for anything, but there had never been extravagances.

She went around the house, turning off lights and the TV, until she reached their bedroom. Beck’s soft snores filled the room, irritating her. Vivi realized that everything about him seemed to bother her these days.

When they had met, she was instantly smitten with him. Beck was handsome, moody, and endlessly fascinating, interested in everyone and everything around him. The problem was that he had never really bothered to learn that much about her. They had moved in together after only a month of seeing one other, and Vivi now realized it was probably so that she could start paying his expenses. At that time, Beck teetered on the edge of a shaky relationship with his wealthy parents. They had insisted he go to college and major in business, which he had done on their dime, but once he graduated, he bounced from job to job. Banking. Real estate. Finance.

On the side, Beck had always been indulging his artistic bents. Writing music. Painting. And cooking. Especially, cooking.

From the beginning, Beck’s parents had disliked her, an Italian girl from a small East Texas town, one who had never attended college. His mother had taken Vivi aside the first night she had met them and simply told her that she wasn’t good enough to marry a Beckham. Flabbergasted, Vivi had listened as Mrs. Beckham elaborated, saying Vivi lacked the breeding, social graces, education, and connections necessary to move in their world. The final blow occurred when Mrs. Beckham stated that Vivi would never be welcomed into their family, despite Beck’s feelings for her.

Vivi had kept that conversation to herself until Beck pressed her. When she revealed what his mother had said, he confronted his parents. That had caused irreparable harm to their relationship. They had been giving their son a monthly allowance, and that immediately ceased. It was right at the time Beck had decided to open his own restaurant, and Vivi took over all the financials at that point. The Beckhams couldn’t take back the money they had already given their son, most of which he’d planned to use to start Il Giardino, so she placed Beck on a tight budget in order for them to be able to lease a reasonable property for the restaurant. She had found the furniture and decorated the entire establishment. Purchased all the kitchen equipment. Helped in hiring the staff.

She had even had a large role in helping Beck create the menu, using many of the recipes she had gotten from her grandmother and other relatives when she had gone to live in Tuscany after graduating from high school. That had been Vivi’s college education. Living abroad for three years. Learning to speak Italian fluently. Traveling throughout various regions in Italy, both alone and with some of her cousins. Most of all, learning to cook the food of her Tuscan ancestors.

She had returned to the States and decided to work in Dallas, which was about ninety minutes away from her hometown of Sugar Springs. By that point, Dante had finished culinary school and was also cooking in Dallas. She would be close to her brother and not too far away from her parents, as well as Paige Laramie, her best friend since kindergarten, who taught high school in Sugar Springs and had just started writing screenplays in her spare time.

Regret filled her. She rarely went back to Sugar Springs after she began living with Beck. She spoke on the phone with her mom and Paige but working at the steakhouse and at Il Giardino left her tired and drained, with no time to visit her hometown.

Things would have to change. Starting tonight.

She didn’t have to turn on the bedroom light because Beck had left it on, as well. She caught the scent of weed and knew that’s what he had used to help him fall asleep. He told her the drug calmed him, and she had kept her mouth closed, not wanting to rock the boat. She didn’t believe in taking drugs of any kind. It pained her to even take an aspirin.

Vivi went to Beck’s side of the bed and gently shook him.

He opened his eyes, blinking several times, frowning. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

“Time to talk, Beck,” she said bluntly. “Sit up.”

He pushed himself to a seated position and immediately reached for his phone. Glancing at it, he said, “What the hell, Vivi? It’s almost two in the morning. I need my sleep. You know that.”

“And I need some things from you, Beck,” she said sternly.

He rolled his eyes. “Here we go. A relationship talk. What’s it gonna be now? What do you want? Oh, I can guess. You’re tired of us living together. You want a ring on your finger. Your maternal clock is ticking, and you just heard it. Whine, whine.”

Her lover glared at her. “I’m gonna shut that down right now. I’m not the marrying kind, Vivi. You know that. I think all kids are brats.”

He stared at her defiantly, daring her to contradict him.

She had thought that she would demand he make some changes to mollify her, but Vivi now saw that no changes would be required. The only change would be that she was walking out the door.

For good.

“I’ve never put any kind of pressure on you to marry me, Beck. You know that. I don’t ask for anything for myself. I never have. But think about it. When is the last time we made love? Or you even bothered to kiss me or tell me you loved me?”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t think you ever loved me. I think I was merely convenient to you. Some sap who would hang on your every word and pay your way while you indulged yourself. That’s over now.”

Vivi saw awareness light his eyes. “What are you saying?” he asked, panic in his tone, as he realized the free ride was about to end.

“I’m saying that I’m tired of working my fingers to the bone and not ever receiving any acknowledgement for doing so. I’m tired of you thinking only of yourself and not us, as a team. I always have called us partners when people asked about our relationship status, but partners signified equality between a pair. You’re the only one who gets anything out of this relationship. I’ve catered to your every whim. I’ve given into you on every argument. I’ve paid every bill, including parts of the salaries for your staff. You’ve never thanked me once for any of that. You’ve taken and taken and taken from me, Beck. Sucked me dry—financially, physically, and emotionally. I don’t have anything else left to give you.

“Find yourself another doormat to walk all over—because we are done.”

She turned to leave the room, even as he scrambled out of bed and grabbed her, spinning her so that she faced him.

Desperation filled his face. “You can’t mean any of that, Vivi. You love me.”

She shook her head. “See? Even in saying that, I realize how one-sided this relationship is. If you truly loved me, Beck, you would have said we love each other. We need to find a way to make it work.”

Vivi shook her head. “You said I love you. Frankly, I don’t anymore. Any love I did have for you dried up a long time ago. I was just too stubborn to admit that. All I’ve been is an ATM to you. Guess what? Withdrawal time is over. This bank has shut its doors because it’s been bled dry.” She jerked away. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll pack and be gone sometime tomorrow.”

Brave words, because she had nowhere to go. Literally, less than ten dollars in her bank account. Her savings, which had always been meager, were used up long ago, the funds sunk into Beck’s restaurant.

“You don’t mean any of this,” he said defiantly. “You’re nothing without me, Vivi.”

His gall never ceased to amaze her.

“And here I thought the same about you. Who’s managed everything about your business? Who provided the bulk of the recipes you cook? Who waits on you hand and foot, doing everything for you, from your laundry to your taxes? That would be me. This train ride is over, Beck. I’m getting off while I still can. If you need money, you’ll have to suck it up and go back to Mommy and Daddy. Il Giardino is going to go under soon, especially if I’m not there to help pick up the pieces.”

Vivi ignored his loud cursing. Hurrying to the bungalow’s only bathroom, she locked the door.

Beck beat on the door, screaming and shouting at her, but she ignored him, not answering back. She slumped to the ground, burying her face in her hands, wondering how it all went so wrong and why she had enabled Beck to treat her like trash.

Finally, his shouts ceased. She only hoped he hadn’t awakened any of their neighbors, especially Mrs. Feathers, who lived next door. She could imagine the nosy woman calling the police.

Vivi brushed her teeth and washed her face. Venturing from the bathroom, she found the house quiet and dark. She went to the tiny living room and caught sight of the flashing lights as they pulled up outside.

Prying Mrs. Feathers had definitely heard Beck’s loud cursing and called the police. Vivi switched on a light and then went to the door, unlocked it, and opened it just as two police officers approached.

“We had a call of a domestic disturbance here,” the officer on her left said.

“Yes, Officer. I’m sorry if my boyfriend and I disturbed our neighbors.” She paused and added, “My ex-boyfriend. That’s what the fight was about. I’m leaving in the morning.”

The second officer, concern on his face, asked, “Are you all right, miss?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Beck has never laid a hand on me. He just has a temper and likes to shout.”

“We need to come in and speak to him, miss,” the second officer informed her. “We need to make certain everything is all right. That you aren’t under duress.”

They must think she was a battered woman, lying to protect her lover. Knowing that she had sunken that far made Vivi all the more resolved to leave this roof as soon as she could.

“I understand,” she told them. “Please come in.”

She stepped back so they could enter the bungalow. “I’m Vivian Romano, by the way. My ex is Aaron Beckham. This is his house, but I pay all the bills.”

They introduced themselves, and she said, “Beck is in the bedroom. I’m sure he’s already asleep again after I told him we were done. I locked myself in the bathroom and stayed until just before you arrived. Things were quiet, so I came out. You’re welcome to go back and talk with him.”

The first officer said, “I’ll do that.” He turned to his partner. “You stay with Miss Romano.”

Vivi went and sat in the rocking chair which her parents had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Rocking had always comforted her. It was the only piece of furniture in the house which was hers.

“Have a seat, Officer,” she said.

“I’ll stand. Thank you.”

Moments later, his partner appeared, a grim look on his face. “I just radioed for an ambulance,” the cop said.

Vivi shot to her feet. “What’s wrong with Beck?”

“Your boyfriend didn’t take to the breakup so kindly. I found him with a needle stuck in his arm. He’s OD’d.”

“Beck is... dead?” she whispered, a numbness filling her. “He’s always smoked weed. Even though I disapproved, but hard drugs? I never saw... He didn’t seem...” her voice trailed off. Nothing was making sense to her.

She started to head for the bedroom, and the cop stopped her.

“You can’t go back there, Miss Romano. You have to stay right here.”

The next two hours went by with Vivi in a daze. The ambulance came, and the paramedics pronounced Beck officially dead. His body was removed and taken to the city morgue to be autopsied. Vivi was interviewed about their relationship. Their argument. Why Beck might have overdosed.

A detective showed up on the scene and pressed her about their finances. She admitted they were on the verge of bankruptcy and gave them permission to search the premises without a warrant.

The house search turned up more drugs—heroin and cocaine—hidden in a shoebox Beck kept under the bed. Vivi had never seen it before, and she figured her stunned reaction convinced the cops that she was telling the truth.

People started leaving the house, and the detective asked her if she had anyone she could stay with for what was left of tonight.

“My brother. And I need to call Beck’s parents. Let them know what’s happened.” She shuddered. “They are going to blame me for this.”

“Why?” he asked, sympathy in his eyes.

“Because I’m an uncultured Italian girl from a small town. They thought I was some leech attaching herself to their golden boy.” Angrily, she wiped away the tears which continued to fall. “When I’m the one who’s had to pay for everything after they cut him off.”

Saying that, she wondered where Beck had gotten the money for the drugs which had been found, worried he might have been stealing from the restaurant without her knowledge. That—and the thought of having to talk to Beck’s parents and tell them their son had died of a drug overdose—made her physically ill.

“We can make the notification for you, Miss Romano,” the detective told her. “Since things are strained between you, it might be better that way.”

She nodded in agreement. “I would appreciate that more than I can say. Yes, I would prefer that you contact the Beckhams. Beck was estranged from his parents because of our relationship. They move in pretty high social circles in Dallas.”

“I understand. Do you have their contact information for me?”

“I don’t, but I can get it for you. It would be in Beck’s phone.”

Vivi went and retrieved her ex’s phone, typing in his passcode and scrolling through his contact list. In typical Beck fashion, he had listed them separately as Big Bucks Daddy and Bossy Mama Beckham.

She handed the phone to the detective, and he made a note of both numbers, returning the cell to her. She placed it on the coffee table in front of her, wanting nothing to do with anything related to her former lover.

“Thank you for all your help tonight, Miss Romano.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more to her, but was holding back.

Vivi asked, “Is there anything else, Detective?”

“Only that I know the Beckham name. Everyone in Dallas does. But I want you to understand that no matter what kind of guilt trip they try to place on you, don’t fall for it. Your boyfriend made the decision to take the drugs. Maybe—or maybe not—he meant to OD. We’ll never know.”

Tears filled her eyes. “How can I not blame myself?” she asked. “If I hadn’t broken up with him—told him I was leaving him—then he wouldn’t have done this.”

“He was a grown man who made his own decisions. You need to make yours. My advice? Don’t look back. Keep moving forward. Talk to your friends or family or even a therapist if you find yourself in a dark place. Don’t be shy about asking for help. You’re going to face some tough days ahead in the future, but you’re a strong, good woman. You’ll get over this. You’ll move on to new, better times in your life.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I needed to hear that.”

She saw him out the door and then, knowing she couldn’t stay here, sleeping in the same bed Beck had killed himself, she called Dante.

He answered on the fourth ring. “Vivi?” he asked sleepily.

“Can I come over and sleep on your sofa?”

“You broke up with him? Whoa. It’s almost five in the morning.”

“Can I come, Dante? I need to get out of here.”

“I’m here, little sis. Come on over.”

Vivi packed a few things in an overnight bag, just for a few days, not knowing when she would return to move the rest of her stuff. She would need to lease an apartment as quickly as possible, but she didn’t have enough in the bank to even put down a deposit. Her credit cards were maxed out, as well. She believed her brother would loan her the money, though.

Leaving the house, she turned off all the lights and locked the door, driving the short distance to Dante’s apartment.

He greeted her at the door. “Chamomile tea,” he said, giving her a hug and the mug.

Over the next half-hour, Vivi told him about her discussion with Beck and how she had told him she was moving out today.

“It got pretty heated on his part, Dante. Beck was screaming at me, enough to wake up busybody Mrs. Feathers next door. She’s the one who called the police.”

She bit her bottom lip. “The cops who showed up wanted to make sure I was okay, even though I told them I was. They asked to speak to Beck. When one of them went back to the bedroom, he found Beck had OD’d.” She swallowed. Her voice choking, she said, “He’s dead.”

Dante’s jaw dropped. For the first time in a long time, her brother was speechless.

He didn’t use words. Instead, he comforted her by enveloping Vivi in his arms, holding her tenderly and stroking her hair as she finally broke down and sobbed.

Her life would never be the same. Guilt flooded her, despite what the detective had advised. She tried to shove it aside, knowing he was right. Beck had made the choice. She hadn’t even known he was doing hard drugs. If she had, she would have either seen that he got help or left him sooner.

“I just want to curl up and sleep for a few hours,” she said. “Then I’ll need to go to Il Giardino. I don’t know who will cook today because I’m on duty at the steakhouse.”

“I can do it,” Dante said. “Today’s my day off. As it is, most of what Beck cooks are things you taught me from our relatives. I can do this for you, Vivi.”

“Thank you, Dante. I’m so glad I have you to lean on.”

“You can stay here as long as you want. It’ll be cramped, but you’re welcome to be my bunk mate until you can find something for yourself.”

“I might need a slight loan from you for a deposit on an apartment,” she admitted.

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have enough for a deposit? How bad are things, Vivi?”

“Bad. Really bad,” she admitted. “If I had two nickels to rub together, I’d feel rich.”

Her brother let out a string of expletives, cursing Beck to the high heavens. She actually agreed with him, though she refrained from joining in out of respect for the dead.

“I don’t know if I should quit my job and try to make a go of Il Giardino. I’ve got mixed feelings about it. I don’t want to let down the staff. If we close, they’re out of a job.”

“Don’t make any decisions now. You’re drained. You need to get some rest. We can talk about it later.”

“I’ll set my alarm for nine. That’ll be enough sleep. I’ll take a quick shower and then head to the restaurant if you want to come with me. You’ve only been in the kitchen once, right after it opened. I want to make sure you’re familiar with everything.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Dante told her.

Vivi went to his bedroom and set her cell phone’s alarm. She thought she would have trouble falling asleep, but the next thing she knew, the alarm was going off. She jumped into the shower and dressed in some of the fresh clothes she’d brought, not bothering with makeup.

Dante was waiting in the tiny kitchen. He gave her a cup of coffee and made an omelet for her.

“This hits the spot. Thank you,” she said, devouring the omelet.

They went to Il Giardino’s, where she informed the staff already on the premises that Beck had passed away unexpectedly. She knew Dante’s protective stance prevented anyone from pressing her for details.

“This is my brother. Dante is going to cook at lunch and dinner today since I’m due at the steakhouse.”

“And then what, Vivi?” the sous chef asked, worry plain on his face. “We’re barely keeping the doors open now.”

“I’m going to figure it out,” she promised. “Just give me today to think. I’ll come in tonight when I get off work and address the entire staff after dinner service tonight.”

She didn’t want to think about the funeral for Beck. It wasn’t her place to plan it. She wondered if she and the restaurant staff would even be allowed to attend it. She doubted the Beckhams would notify her or anyone at Il Giardino about whatever plans they would make for their son.

Vivi decided she needed a clean break from the place she and Beck had shared. She drove to the bungalow to pack up her things.

When she arrived, she was speechless. Clothes littered the front lawn.

Her clothes.

She jumped out of her car and ran toward the front door, only to find Gloria Beckham stepping out, her arms full of Vivi’s clothes.

“What the hell are you doing, Mrs. Beckham?” she demanded.

The older woman thrust the clothes at Vivi, and she managed to catch most of them.

With her long index fingernail painted a bright red, the woman poked Vivi in the chest. “You tramp!” she shrieked. “You killed my Aaron.”

Vivi was determined to stand her ground against this woman. “I did not buy the drugs he took,” she said flatly. “I didn’t even know he was taking them. I certainly didn’t inject them into his vein. That was Beck’s choice. His alone.”

“Aaron would never have done drugs before meeting... you,” she sniffed. “I know you murdered him. You couldn’t get him to marry you, and so you decided to get rid of him.”

Anger sizzled through her, and she tossed aside the imaginary kid gloves. “For your information, I told your son last night that I was leaving him. I wanted nothing more to do with Beck because he treated me so poorly. Now, move aside, so I can get the rest of my things. The ones you haven’t already scattered across the lawn.”

Thadford Beckham appeared at the door with another man. “That’s not happening,” Beck’s father said, nodding at the other man.

He had that slick, lawyerly look about him and cleared his throat. “You have no legal right to enter the premises, Miss Romano,” he said brusquely.

“Who do you think paid the mortgage each month on this place? Not Beck. I’ve been paying all his bills ever since I moved in with him two years ago.”

“In the eyes of the law, you have no standing,” the attorney curtly informed her. “The name on the deed of this house is that of my clients’—the Beckhams.”

She was startled by that information. “Beck always told me that his parents had given him the down payment, but that this house was in his name.”

“He lied to you,” Mrs. Beckham said, her tone vicious. “He knew he couldn’t trust you.”

Vivi knew Beck’s parents wouldn’t listen to a word she said. They wouldn’t care that she was the one who had kept the restaurant afloat. They only saw her as a gold-digger from the wrong side of the tracks.

“I’m sorry Beck is dead,” she said quietly. “I did love him at one time.” She paused. “I won’t ask to come to his service.”

“I wouldn’t have the likes of you there,” his mother said, venom dripping from her voice.

Holding her tongue from an ugly comeback she might regret, Vivi said, “All I’m asking is to come inside and collect my things. My clothes. Some cookware and knives which my relatives from Tuscany gave me. And the rocking chair from my parents. Everything else is Beck’s.”

“You should be glad my wife didn’t take scissors and cut your clothes to pieces,” Mr. Beckham said. “You ruined our son. No, you may not come in. We want you off the premises now, or I will have my attorney file a restraining order. You are not to come here or to Il Giardino.”

Anger poured through her, but losing her temper would accomplish nothing.

“I have photographic proof that the cookware and knives are mine. The rocker, as well,” she said stiffly. She allowed her gaze to bore into the attorney’s, knowing he was the one who could reason with the couple.

Sure enough, he cupped a hand and whispered into Mr. Beckham’s ear. Turning to Vivi, Mr. Beckham said, “You have ten minutes.”

Mrs. Beckham started protesting, using language unfit for anyone, but her husband pulled her away. Vivi raced inside and gathered up what belonged to her in the kitchen, hurrying it out to her car in a few trips. Next, she lifted the rocker and brought it outside, knowing the clock was ticking and she would rather have the rocker than any clothes remaining in the dresser or closet.

She did have time to go inside one more time, opening a suitcase and throwing as much as she could inside it before the attorney appeared in the doorframe of the bedroom.

He gave her an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that’s all the time I can give you, Miss Romano.”

She shook her head. “Your clients are horrible people. No wonder Beck couldn’t stand them.”

Snapping the locks on the suitcase, she left the house, her head held high.

At her car, she placed the suitcase into the trunk. The rocking chair would never fit, so she called Dante.

“You won’t be cooking at Il Giardino,” she told him. “But you can come by the bungalow and get my rocking chair. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Hanging up, she walked around the front lawn, Mrs. Feathers watching from her porch as Vivi retrieved all the clothing Mrs. Beckham had tossed onto it. As she did so, any guilt Vivi had about Beck’s death was replaced by a white-hot anger. She hated Beck. She hated his parents. She was in debt up to her ears. She had loved a man with all her heart and been burned. She would be in debt for who knew how long, thinking of the loans she had co-signed with Beck, ones which gave him access to everything and her nothing.

Vivi would never trust a man again. And she would never, ever fall in love. Love was for idiots and fools.

From this day forth, she would be neither.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

Sugar Springs—July–Four years later

 

Vivi took a seat at the kitchen table, and Lorenzo handed her a cup of coffee.

“It is just as you like it, Vivi,” her friend said in his lightly-accented English, flashing her the trademark, charming smile which melted women’s hearts.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the mug and placing it before her.

She looked about the kitchen, still pinching herself that she had made such a life change in the last two weeks. She had finally agreed to buy out her parents after months of them pressuring her, telling Vivi she was the only one who could continue the Romano legacy in Sugar Springs. She had never let them know how foolish she’d been in co-signing loans with Aaron Beckham. Beck’s parents hadn’t paid a cent on any of those loans, and Vivi had been the one who had toiled for the past several years in order to pay them off and clear her name.

What had hurt most had been how the Beckhams had swooped in and taken ownership of both Il Giardino and the bungalow, even though Vivi had poured in money, sweat, and tears into both. The Beckhams had sold the restaurant immediately, and she had not been given any of those proceeds. The entire staff had been let go without notice—and without their final paychecks—while Vivi hadn’t received anything from the sale of the restaurant. She understood under the letter of the law, she was due nothing, but the spirit of the law certainly wasn’t followed, in her opinion.

Working double shifts at the steakhouse for years had helped her climb out of the mountain of debt, but her credit record was shot even though she was now finally in the black. She had no savings to purchase Romano’s outright, much less the ability to take out a loan. Her parents had no idea of her financial woes, bragging to others how their daughter worked so diligently and must be saving huge amounts of money. In their eyes, she could easily make a huge down payment on the restaurant and take out a loan for the rest. It was only thanks to her best friend, Paige Haddock, that Vivi was able to buy the restaurant outright now.

Paige had offered to loan Vivi the money for her half of Romano’s—interest-free—and Paige would pay the other half, becoming Vivi’s silent partner. Considering that Paige and her husband Tanner lived in Malibu and had a new baby girl to occupy their time when they weren’t working, Vivi realized all the responsibility would truly lie on her shoulders. It would allow her full, creative control over the restaurant and its daily management. Vivi had promised her friend that she would eventually repay her and Tanner, not only for her portion of the restaurant, but hopefully one day she could buy out the Haddocks and own Romano’s outright.

Paige had told her not to rush and was supportive of the ideas Vivi had already run by as far as the changes she wished to make to the pizza parlor and its menu. Fortunately, the Haddocks didn’t miss the money they had invested in Romano’s. Paige had sold another screenplay recently, while Tanner’s career—already one of the most rock-solid in Hollywood—was pushing to new heights since his directorial debut. He was now in demand as both an actor and director, earning millions as an actor for his role in a film and a healthy salary as a director. He and Paige had also started their own production company, and Paige was tinkering with the idea of getting into producing.

She took a sip of her coffee. “Perfetto,” she told Lorenzo. “And thank you again for letting me borrow your truck to get Mama and Papa to the airport today. I don’t think we could have gotten their luggage and the three of us in my sedan.”

Vivi had sold her car before leaving Dallas, which had been on its last legs, having almost two hundred thousand miles on it. It needed a new transmission, along with new tires and brakes. Papa had told her that he would simply give her their car. It was a small sedan, five years old, but it was paid for and in good condition. She had thanked him profusely for the gift.

She would also be living in her childhood home while her parents were in Italy. Mama’s original plan had been for them to move to Tuscany permanently and sell the Sugar Springs house. She was from Lunigiana, and she missed the countryside and her relatives. Papa, who had been born in New York, shut down that idea, telling his wife they could go and live for an extended time—a couple of years or so—but that he wanted to eventually come home to the U.S. Vivi would live in their house, rent-free, since the mortgage had already been paid off. She would be responsible for paying the utilities, insurance, and taxes, while she owned and managed Romano’s.

Dante had said the minute one of them married and had children, Mama would hightail it back to Sugar Springs, eager to play Nonna to any little bambina or bambino. Vivi thought him right, but she didn’t see either of them marrying anytime soon. If ever.

Her brother was easily one of the best-looking men in Dallas, and she believed he would remain single for many years before settling down. Dante was a good man, but he had a roving eye as far as women were concerned.

As for her? She had given up on men after her disastrous relationship with Beck. Though they had lived together two years, she understood now that she had never truly known who her lover was. She firmly believed he had never loved her, merely using her and leading her on. She was done with all of that. Men were too needy and self-centered, and she was better off without one in her life.

Besides, Romano’s would take up all her time now, and she doubted Sugar Springs had a huge dating pool of single men anyway. It was the type of place where people married and settled down. Eligible bachelors would be few and far between, and she doubted any would put up with the hours she would be working to keep Romano’s afloat, and hopefully, profitable.

Lorenzo joined her at the table and sipped on his own coffee. He was staying, for the time being, in Dante’s old bedroom, but he was looking for a place of his own.

“I think I have found an apartment to rent,” he shared. “It is near the high school, so it won’t be far from the town square. I can walk to work, just like in Italy.”

“I can’t tell you again how grateful I am that you came to Sugar Springs with me, Lorenzo. You’re welcome to stay in the house as long as you’d like. In fact, if you do, it will save you rent money. I don’t want you to think I’m chasing you out.”

“Yes, Dante has called me a defector from his side to yours,” he joked.

“I suppose there is a little sibling rivalry between us,” she admitted. “I’m glad we aren’t in the same town, with competing restaurants. That would be terrible.”

“Have you told Eduardo and Sophia about your plans for the new menu at Romano’s?”

She shook her head. “No, because they would be dead set against it. Especially Papa. I hate to sound cold, but it is no longer their restaurant. Romano’s is mine. I want to be free to make the changes I want and put my stamp on it.”

“I do appreciate being here the last couple of weeks and learning from your father. Eduardo is truly a genius in the kitchen when it comes to making pizzas.”

“You know I want to keep pizza on the menu. It’s the star and always will be. It isn’t Romano’s if we don’t serve pizza. But I have other ideas, Lorenzo. Ambitious ones. I want to make Romano’s a destination stop on the weekends for people. Not just residents of Sugar Springs, but others in the area who are looking for excellent, authentic Italian cuisine.”

“Have you a menu in mind?” he asked.

“Definitely. I’ll be sharing everything with you—and the staff—once my parents are on that plane and headed to Italy. Even then, if Papa gets wind of things, he might ask for a parachute and bail out, racing back to nix everything.”

They both laughed.

Her father appeared in the kitchen doorway. “It is almost time to go, Vivi.” Looking to Lorenzo, he added, “I am trusting you to make my pizzas the way they should be made, my new friend.”

“You have taught me well, Eduardo,” Lorenzo told the older man. “And don’t forget that Vivi also will be cooking.”

Papa cast his warm gaze in her direction. “My Vivi has been making my pizzas since she was barely out of diapers. I could never have turned over Romano’s to anyone but her. She will keep the traditions I have established.”

Guilt filled her. While she would continue making her father’s pizzas, she doubted Papa would appreciate her adding to the menu at Romano’s. He was a man who liked things the way they were and didn’t accept change easily. The fact that he was walking away from his restaurant and accompanying his wife to Tuscany still surprised her.

Mama came in, all aflutter. “I cannot find my rings!” she cried. “I cannot leave without them.”

Lorenzo came to his feet. Slipping a hand into his pocket, he withdrew something and opened his palm in front of Mama. “I found them beside the kitchen sink, Sophia. You must have taken them off when you washed the dishes.”

She flung her arms around Lorenzo, thanking him profusely in Italian, Mama’s default anytime she became emotional.

That was one of the small changes Vivi would make. Mama never used the dishwasher at their house, and she insisted all dishes at the restaurant be cleaned by hand. While that could be more efficient during a rush, Vivi would not be opposed to the staff using the dishwasher at Romano’s. It was quite large and industrial strength and had sat unused for too long a time.

“Now that you have your rings, my love, it’s time to go,” Papa said.

Mama looked around the kitchen, tears brimming in her eyes. “We have spent many happy times in this kitchen, haven’t we, Eduardo?”

Papa took her hand and kissed it. “We have, indeed, mio caro.”

A lump formed in Vivi’s throat, seeing after decades of marriage how much her parents still loved one another. She had hoped to have that with Beck. Her dreams of a husband and children were no longer in her future. She was a businesswoman now. Her focus must be on Romano’s.