I Want You for Christmas: The Prince's Lost Princess - a Heartwarming Snow-Capped Holiday Romance (10 page)

For all of Luca’s speeches about being tricked and fooled for others’ benefit, he had proved himself to be no better than the people he complained about. Gaby had thought that he was perhaps a secret scholar, someone interested in the history of his country and the rightful wealth of its inhabitants. Instead, he’d simply been a spoiled playboy looking for another royal conquest.

And she had let him win.

Gaby cried hard, finding some tissues and water and cleaning up her face as she did. She wept for hours, until she finally had no tears left to cry, and instead stared dejectedly out at the dark sky as she flew back home.

She promised herself, then, that she would never leave New York again; not if all that was out there was lies and deceit. The plane flew on into the night, not at all fast enough.

FIFTEEN

(Some time later)

Gaby cringed.

An Italian cover of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was playing on the restaurant’s music system. Once she’d arrived home, Gaby had wished more than anything that she could claim any other nationality. The paintings along Il Lupo’s walls, even the taste of pasta, all of it was just a terrible reminder of how foolish she had been.

It was a reminder of the prince she’d thought could be hers.

“Gaby. Gaby!” Rosalie waved a hand in front of her friend’s face, startling her out of her reverie.

When Gaby finally made eye contact with her petite friend, the girl sighed in exasperation.

“All right, that’s it. Get your coat. We’re getting coffee.”

“We’re on the clock, Rosalie. We can’t just go and get coffee.”

“Look around, Gaby. It’s three in the afternoon. We have at least an hour until the early birds arrive. I’m taking you out. Hold on.”

Rosalie headed back towards the kitchen, where Gaby’s father was taking inventory of the silverware.

“Mr. Galtieri, I’m taking Gaby for coffee so she can tell me what’s been going on with her lately. Is that okay?”

Gaby gasped at her friend’s bluntness. Usually there was nothing that could get them out of work.

Gaby’s father shrugged and kept counting. “Sure. I hope you have better luck than the rest of us finding out what’s gotten into her. Stubborn Italian temper, that’s what that is.”

“You’re telling me. Thanks, Mr. Galtieri.”

“Mmhmm,” he said distractedly.

Rosalie pulled her and Gaby’s jackets from the coat hanger and tossed one to her friend. “Let’s go,” she said, not taking no for an answer.

Gaby realized that she should have expected this at some point. Her family was nosy as all heck, and Rosalie in particular couldn’t last long without squirreling out every one of Gaby’s secrets. She knew everything about her, and still kept the secrets Gaby wanted kept to herself. It was why they’d remained friends after so many years, even if it was a very annoying habit.

The girls walked quickly, as the December cold had set in and the world was turning frigid. When they entered the warm coffeehouse down the street, the whole space smelled like roasting beans. Rosalie ordered them both coffees and took a seat by an artificial fireplace. She leaned in and stared at her friend.

“Okay, talk,” she said.

Gaby hesitated, not knowing quite where to begin. “I…met someone while I was in Italy.”

Rosalie’s eyes lit up. “Go on,” she said, taking a sip from her steaming paper cup.

Finally, Gaby let it all out. She told Rosalie about the private jet, Luca’s estate, and the Prince himself. She talked about their day in Florence and the castle he’d believed could belong to her family.

“He thinks you’re royalty? Like your grandma’s always saying?” Rosalie asked, wide-eyed.

Gaby nodded. “It doesn’t matter, though. The only reason he invited me was so he could stake his claim on another royal. Apparently he’s dated all the others and they want nothing to do with him.”

“What, so he’s some kind of player?” Rosalie asked, and Gaby nodded, her expression sorrowful.

Rosalie’s eyebrows narrowed. “You didn’t…” she said, not finishing her sentence.

Still, Gaby knew what she was asking, and her cheeks turned a bright, shameful red. Gaby stared at her hands, her vision going blurry with more tears. She thought she’d run out of them already, but apparently there were more to come. She saw Rosalie’s small hand reach out and grasp hers.

“Did you fall for him, Gaby?”

Gaby looked up at this question, brushing tears from her eyes. “Fall for him? I was only there a few days Rosalie!”

Rosalie shrugged and leaned back into the sofa. “Sometimes that’s all it takes, honey. From the sound of it, he’s quite the dashing fellow.”

“Yeah, he is. I guess that’s how he’s managed to trick so many women into…caring for him.”

Rosalie stared at Gaby for a few moments, taking her in. Gaby could see there was more she wanted to ask, but knew better of it.

“So this guy is a scumbag, and now he’s out of the picture. Our task is to find you a decent human being who isn’t some Italian prince, but a really nice guy who lives here, where you are, in New York.”

“And we’re back to that again,” Gaby said, unable to hide her bitterness.

She couldn’t help it. She had truly fallen for that jerk, only to be let down again, and yet the world believed the problem was with her. The constant crusade to find her a man was maddening, and Gaby couldn’t even think of placing trust in another one.

“I don’t need a man to be whole, Rosalie. Why doesn’t anyone get that?”

Rosalie sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You absolutely don’t, and if you’d like I can start trying to get your family off your back a little bit so you don’t have to get the constant stream of ‘why are you single’ all the time.”

Gaby took a sip of her coffee. It tasted bland and bitter compared to the coffee she’d had in Italy.

“While we’re being honest, how did you guys do without me, really?” Gaby said, her lips twitching at Rosalie’s knowing look.

“Oh, we barely made it. I had to wait on ten tables at once on the Saturday night. Your mom helped a little, too, even though customer service isn’t exactly one of her strong suits…”

Gaby laughed as Rosalie told a story about Gina berating a customer for sending back a perfect plate of pasta before eating the whole thing and demanding it be free.

“You should have seen the look on her face. She was beet red. I’m pretty sure that person went on Yelp and wrote a terrible review after that,” Rosalie took a look at her watch. “Yikes. We’ve got to get back,” she said, rising and tossing her empty cup in the trash. Gaby followed suit, and the two girls headed back to the restaurant, where Gaby’s mom was waiting with some choice words for them for stepping out on their shift.

“I don’t care what my husband says. Next time you want to go gallivanting around town, I want to hear about it,” Gina snapped, and Gaby and Rosalie kept their heads down, accepting the tongue lashing.

“Yes ma’am,” Rosalie and Gaby said before Gina finally released them to their duties.

The tables started coming in fast, and Gaby found herself wildly busy as the two girls tried to balance the tables amongst themselves as more and more people came in. She had just finished setting down some hot plates when she stepped into the back kitchen and took a breath.

“This is chaos!” Rosalie huffed as she wiped her brow with a sleeve covered in parmesan cheese.

They heard the bells on the door ring, announcing yet another table in their already overfilled establishment. Gaby glanced around the kitchen. Her father was helping with the dishes to keep up, her mother was out taking another order, and Rosalie had just stepped out with another tray full of drinks. It was up to her to face the next customer.

She took a deep breath, trying to release her stress on the exhale. It didn’t work. As she strode out towards the hostess stand, Gaby reminded herself what it would feel like to count her tips at the end of the night—this was always the busiest time of year, after all. As her gaze landed on the next customer, she nearly choked.

There, in the flesh, as stupidly handsome as ever, was Luca, Prince of Campania. He looked wildly out of place in their quaint little restaurant with his top-of-the-line clothing, a crisp white collar sticking out from under a light jacket. His eyes burned into her, and she forced herself to remember that he wasn’t a good person.

But he was still a customer, and people were beginning to stare. Gaby forced a saccharine sweet smile as she reached the stand.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

To her fury, Luca smiled. Gaby’s stomach fluttered, and she tried to force those butterflies to die. There was no future with Luca. There never was.

“It’s good to see you, Gabriella,” he said, his voice like warm honey.

“If you don’t mind, sir, we’re very busy, so unless you want to get on the waiting list tonight there’s really nothing I can do for you.”

“Gaby, please,” he said as she turned away.

Gaby froze. His use of her nickname was what stopped her short, and, against her better judgment, she turned back to him.

“Just let me explain myself, just once. If you don’t like what I have to say, you can bid me farewell and I’ll never bother you again, but all I ask is one chance to explain. Will you give me that?”

His eyes were pleading, so big and beautiful, like a lion’s. She hated to admit how much she’d grown to adore them in such a short time; how much they had haunted her dreams since she’d returned home. Her conscience won out in the end. Everyone deserved to at least tell their story. Right?

“I’ll meet you on the roof after my shift is done. The restaurant closes in about an hour.”

Luca beamed, and Gaby’s butterflies returned full force. Damn them.

“I’ll be waiting.
Grazie mille
, Gabriella. Thank you, a thousand times!”

Gaby didn’t bother to answer him. She couldn’t ignore the annoyed looks of people sitting at tables while their food grew cold in the back kitchens. She delivered a dozen more plates, picked up some empty ones, and took a minute to breathe as she pressed her back against the kitchen wall.

“Was that him?” Rosalie said, dumping some empty cups in a basin to be washed.

The basin was picked up by a washer, who disappeared back to the large sinks. Gaby nodded.

“What are you still doing here?” Rosalie asked. “Where did he go?”

“He’s waiting for me on the roof.”

“What? Go to the roof then, Gaby. What are you still doing here?”

Gaby shook her head. “There’s still five more tables to go. I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself here. The night’s almost done, let’s just do this, and then I’ll go face him.”

“You’re nuts, Gaby, you know that?”

“I know that better than anyone else,” Gaby sighed as she pasted on her best server’s smile and went to check on the remaining tables.

When three of the tables had finally left, Rosalie tugged on Gaby’s apron from behind.

“What are you doing?” Gaby whispered.

Rosalie pulled the apron over Gaby’s head and pushed her friend towards the stairs to the roof.

“Go, now! I’ve got the last two covered. Go see what he wants. If it’s bad, you can hide in your room. If it’s good, you both can hide in your room.”

Rosalie gave Gaby a knowing wink before literally shoving her up the stairs. How someone so tiny could be so strong was a mystery to Gaby. She tried to think about that as she reached the door to the rooftop, and pushed it open.