“Hmmm.” So, they were going to an Italian place downtown. He hoped it wasn’t to one of those touristy restaurants in Little Italy. Not that he would look his nose down at her choice of restaurants, but he had eaten real Italian food all his life. He would be as gracious as he could of course.
“We’re almost there,” she said cheerfully.
He looked outside the window and realized they were on a familiar street on SoHo. A bad feeling suddenly came over him. Oh, no. Please don’t let it be—
“We’re here,” she announced before stepping out of the cab. “Lucas? Are you all right?”
Shit. Just as he’d thought. They were standing right outside Muccino’s. “I’m fine.”
“Are you going to come out of the cab at all?” she asked wryly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. The red neon sign that was his impending doom seemed to mock him as he stepped out. Fuck.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being with Sofia. It’s just that he hadn’t had time yet to prepare her to meet the Muccino–Anderson clan. Hell, he hadn’t prepared himself. And now she was walking into the wolf’s den. Oh, fuck. Gio. If his cousin was working the kitchen tonight, the gossip would spread like wildfire. And everyone would want to know about Sofia.
“Say, Sofia,” he began. “Wouldn’t you rather have French food?” He jerked a thumb across the street. “I heard that restaurant is much better.” And his other cousin, Dom, would be much more discreet; hell, he probably wouldn’t even notice if Lucas brought an entire harem.
“You mean, the restaurant where you took your blonde date to?” Her voice was cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins.
“Right.” Ouch. Darius had warned him that Sofia had been at the dinner for Alesso the other night. He was going to pay for that one. “Muccino’s is fine.”
“I hope it’s more than fine.” She led him toward the entrance, though he stepped ahead to open the door for her. “I couldn’t get a reservation for another two weeks, so I had to come during my lunch hour to see if they could fit us in. That snooty hostess wouldn’t even look at me, and when I finally got her attention, she said the only table she had wasn’t in the best location.”
She went inside and headed straight for the hostess’ station. He followed a step behind, praying that no one would recognize him.
“Reservations?” The female hostess asked.
“I was just here during the lunch hour,” Sofia said. “You can’t have forgotten me already.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” the girl smirked at her. “We do get an awful lot of people in here. What was the name again?”
“Selinofoto.”
“Just a moment.” The hostess looked down at her notebook. “Hmmm, I don’t see it.”
“What?” Sofia exclaimed. “I was right here when you wrote it down.”
“Was I?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Lucas placed a hand on Sofia’s arm. “It’s okay, we can go somewhere else.”
“No, it’s not okay, Lucas.” She looked like steam should be coming out of her ears.
Suddenly, he felt the hostess’s eyes dart over to him. It took a second, but a flash of recognition crossed her face, and she went red. “Mr. Anderson! Sir, I … I didn’t know you were … I mean …” She swallowed. “I’ll find you a table right away, sir. Sorry!” She pivoted on her heel, and Lucas could hear her muttering under her breath.
Sofia turned to him, a delicate dark brow raised. “Does every restaurant in New York train their staff to recognize you or something?”
“Something like that.” At least the girl didn’t reveal to Sofia who he really was. Maybe this would work. And he could keep Sofia to himself, just for a little while longer.
“I wonder what the hell is taking so long.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Ah, here she is.”
The hostess was walking back toward them, but she wasn’t alone. Oh, no. Lucas wanted to bang his head on the wall.
“What’s going on here?” Gio Muccino’s dark brows were furrowed together. “Gretchen, stop begging me not to fire you. Who the hell—Lucas?”
It was probably too much to hope that Sofia didn’t realize what was going on, but her keen detective’s eyes couldn’t have missed it. She did a double take, first at Lucas, then at Gio and then back at Lucas again. There was no way she would have missed the similarities in their features, and even if she did, the color of their eyes gave everything away. “Lucas, what’s going on?”
“Sofia, I’d like you to meet my cousin, Gio Muccino. Gio, this is Sofia Selinofoto.”
Gio’s face turned from confused to surprise and then finally, his handsome face broke into a big grin. “Sofia! Nice to meet you! Are you Italian, bella?”
“No, I’m afraid not. Greek, actually.”
“Even better.” Gio winked at her. “Because you are as beautiful as a goddess.”
To his surprise, Sofia actually laughed. “You’re too kind, Mr. Muccino.”
“Ugh! Mr. Muccino is my father, please, call me Gio.”
“Nice to meet you, Gio.” She held her hand out, which Gio took and kissed.
“Can we get a table, please?” Lucas muttered, not liking how his cousin was touching Sofia.
“Of course! And you’ll get the best table—my table, in the kitchen. Come on,” he gestured for them to follow him. Soon, they were crossing through the kitchen and then Gio led them to the chef’s private dining table. Lucas had dined there many times before of course, but he always loved it. Watching the people working in the kitchen reminded him of those summers spent here.
“So,” Sofia gave him the stink eye as he pulled a chair out for her. “Cousin, huh?”
“Guilty,” he said sheepishly.
She sat down and allowed Gio to put the napkin on her lap. “You could have told me your cousin owns the restaurant, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Actually,” Gio began, “I’m only co-head chef here. And Lucas’s family owns most of this restaurant.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “Why
