Chapter 4
After devouring the rest of Hayley’s spaghetti carbonara, Chef Romeo was still on a tear about his unwanted visitors, Vic Spencer and his flunky Chuckie, and the shabby, unacceptable job they had done on his kitchen.
“How does he think he can get away with something like this? It’s a small town, word gets around, and believe me, I have the biggest mouth for miles!” Romeo roared.
Hayley thought better of nodding in agreement.
Romeo began opening cupboards. “Just look at these flimsy shelves. The nails are already loose—this whole thing could collapse at any moment and hurt one of my employees! It’s ridiculous! And he actually thinks I am going to pay him more money? What an imbecile! That guy doesn’t even deserve to have a license to do business! He’s a menace to the community!”
Hayley observed Romeo’s face turning beet red as he worked himself up into a wild frenzy. “Romeo, you should calm down . . .”
“I am calm! Do I not look calm?” Romeo shouted.
“What would you say calm looks like? Because right now what you’re doing doesn’t look calm to me,” Hayley said softly.
“Can you believe he had the nerve to threaten to sue me? Who does that idiot think he is? I’ll tell you one thing: I’m a Brooklyn boy, born and raised. We’re tough as nails, a lot tougher than the ones he used to hammer that cupboard into place, and we don’t take guff from nobody!”
Suddenly Romeo stopped screaming and clutched his chest, sweat pouring down his face, mouth agape, bottom lip quivering.
Hayley took a step forward. “Romeo, are you all right?”
She noticed his hand at his side trembling.
“I’m fine!” Romeo insisted.
“Do you feel a tightness in your chest? Is there a pain shooting down your arm?”
Romeo waved her off. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a little indigestion. I promise not to blame your carbonara.”
Hayley had been around long enough to recognize the signs of a heart attack. “Do you have shortness of breath?”
Romeo firmly shook his head no, but it was obvious he was having some trouble breathing.
“Are you dizzy or light-headed?”
“Stop pestering me, Hayley! I am not having a heart attack! This happens all the time when I get upset. I just need to sit down and let it pass,” Romeo said, pulling up a chair and plopping down his large frame.
“This is nothing to mess around with,” Hayley warned. “If you’re having chest pains of any kind, we should get you to the emergency room as soon as possible.”
“Forget it! I hate hospitals!” Romeo barked. “Trust me, there is nothing to worry about here, this is just me being Italian, screaming and yelling and getting worked up is just part of our nature! My whole family acts like this!”
Hayley eyed him warily, not quite believing his state of health was no cause for concern.
He sat slumped over in the chair, taking long, deep breaths until his blood pressure seemed to come down a bit, and whatever pain he refused to acknowledge had subsided. He finally glanced up at Hayley and flashed her a grin. “See, I’m feeling better already.”
If Romeo was going to ignore whatever it was that just happened, the least she could do was try to get his mind off Vic Spencer, and she had the perfect way to do that. She brought something up on her phone screen and then handed it to Romeo.
“What is this?”
“A sneak peek of my column that will be in tomorrow’s paper,” Hayley said, smiling.
Romeo read the review on her phone, his lips moving along, and then an elated smile began to creep across his face. “Five stars?”
“I would’ve given six if there was such a thing,” Hayley said with a wink.
Romeo leaped to his feet and grabbed her in a bear hug. “Thank you, Hayley! I could kiss you!”
“Well, since I’m married, that might not be appropriate—”
He ignored her by pursing his lips and going in strong. Hayley managed to duck her head to the side so his lips landed on her cheek instead, then she gently wiggled out of his tight grasp.
“Let’s celebrate with some vino!” Romeo roared, hurtling off toward his wine rack.
“It’s getting late, and I promised to stop by my brother Randy’s bar to say hello. He’s feeling lonely lately since his husband—”
“That’s too bad,” Romeo said, totally uninterested. He uncorked the bottle of Chianti and poured two glasses, handing one to Hayley. They toasted before taking a sip. Hayley hung out with the chef for another forty minutes, mostly to make certain he did not suffer another suspected heart episode. The two bonded over their mutual love of food. Hayley knew she had made a friend for life after her rave review of Romeo’s restaurant.
“So you really thought my cannoli was the best you’ve ever tasted, even when you vacationed in Italy?”
Hayley nodded. “I wouldn’t have written it if I didn’t believe it.”
“What can I say, the lady has impeccable taste!”
“I don’t know about that. I just know what I like,” she demurred.
Romeo downed the rest of his wine and then laser-focused on Hayley, a dead serious look on his face. “You really should not be wasting your time writing about food.”
Hayley arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Romeo slammed his wineglass down. “No. You should be sharing your talents with the world! You live in a tourist town. Acadia National Park is one of the most popular vacation spots in the whole country! We get millions of visitors a year! And they all have to eat! If you won’t come work in my restaurant, you should open up your own!”
Hayley chuckled. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I’m not sure I’m really cut out to run my own restaurant.”
“Why not? You’re a smart cookie. You could figure it out. Just don’t open an Italian place. That’s my territory. You can do anything else, just not Italian!”
“Okay, no Italian,” Hayley said, humoring him and sipping more wine.
“I see you with a seafood joint, maybe putting a spin on your spaghetti carbonara by adding lobster or shrimp. I got a million ideas. I’d be happy to help you if you ever decide to go for it!” Romeo bellowed. “Let’s do a couple of sambuca shots!”
“No, I really shouldn’t—”
But Romeo was already on his feet, heading toward his junky cupboards. He stopped suddenly, his back to Hayley. She could see his shoulders moving up and down as if he was having trouble trying to breathe again.
“Romeo?”
He raised a hand. “All good.”
But he swayed to the side and had to grab the counter to steady himself.
Hayley sighed. “I really think you should at least go see a doctor.”
“He always tells me the same thing. ‘You need to lose weight and exercise more!’ Forget it! If I did that, it would destroy my image! No one wants to see a scrawny, starving Italian chef! Who would come eat my food if it was clear I wasn’t eating it myself? No way! Ain’t gonna happen! I love my work too much!”
He wiped the sweat beads off his brow defiantly and threw open the cupboard to retrieve his bottle of sambuca. When he slammed the door shut, the entire row of shelves collapsed, crashing to the floor, dishes and glassware shattering everywhere.
Chef Romeo exploded again and Hayley clutched her phone at her side, fully prepared to call an ambulance if need be. But happily, after another shot of sambuca, Chef Romeo appeared to be back to normal and ranting about the despicable, lowlife Vic Spencer and the multiple ways Romeo planned to exact his revenge, all signs of his ill health dissipated.