Chapter 1 - THE MAN WHO HEARD EVERYTHING
Luca Benedetti lifted his eyes from the counter.
Dana still had both hands wrapped around Rose’s sleeve.
Rose looked at her.
“Wonderful. Now he knows we’re discussing him.”
“He already knew,” Luca said.
Dana released Rose immediately.
“Mr. Benedetti, I—”
“Luca.”
Dana blinked.
“What?”
“If you’re going to panic, at least use fewer syllables.”
Rose bit back a smile.
That was her first mistake.
His gaze shifted to her.
Not to her body. Not to the flour on her black T-shirt. Not to the loose strand of auburn hair sticking to her cheek.
To her expression.
“You find that funny?”
“A little.”
Dana looked ready to resign.
Rose took the mislabeled pie.
“I’ll fix this. Fifteen minutes.”
“I need it by noon.”
“You came at five forty-five.”
“Yes.”
“That gives us some flexibility.”
The corner of his mouth moved again.
Rose disappeared into the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, while she piped fresh meringue across a replacement pie, Dana appeared beside her.
“You cannot talk to Luca Benedetti like that.”
“I talked to him like a customer.”
“He is not a customer.”
“He bought a pie.”
Dana lowered her voice.
“His family controls half the restaurant suppliers in Milwaukee.”
“Then perhaps he understands inventory.”
“Rose.”
“What?”
Dana glanced through the doorway.
“He’s still watching you.”
Rose looked.
Luca was not watching.
He was examining the framed photographs on the bakery wall.
Rose’s father.
Her mother.
Rose at seventeen wearing a culinary-school apron.
Tessa at eight, missing two front teeth.
Then Luca stopped at one photograph.
Rose’s father stood beside an older man outside a flour warehouse.
Luca leaned closer.
When Rose returned with the corrected pie, his expression had changed.
“Who is that?”
He pointed.
“My father.”
“The other man.”
Rose followed his finger.
“I don’t know. Dad worked wholesale before opening this place.”
Luca stared at the photograph.
“You really don’t recognize him?”
“No.”
He took out his phone and photographed it.
Rose’s patience disappeared.
“Why are you photographing my family?”
His eyes returned to hers.
“That man is my grandfather.”
Rose froze.
The man beside her father was Carlo Benedetti.
The same Carlo Benedetti whose memorial dinner, five weeks later, would end with banana cream covering Serena Vance’s face.
Luca picked up the pie.
Before leaving, he looked once more at Rose’s father.
“What was his name?”
“Stanley Kowalik.”
Luca went completely still.
Then he said something Rose would remember later.
“My grandfather mentioned a Kowalik before he died.”
Her stomach tightened.
“What did he say?”
Luca looked at her.
May you like
“He said your family was owed something.”
And then he walked out before telling her what.
