turned to face her. ‘Hi. Had a good afternoon?’
‘Fine, thanks. I’ve done the letters for you, a bit of research on that project you asked about, and all the orders are sorted for tomorrow and Monday.’
‘Brilliant. It’s so good to know I don’t have to stop what I’m doing and sort it all out myself. And having this extra time…You know, maybe my family’s right and I do work too hard.’
Did that mean he wanted to skip the barista training this evening? The sudden swoop of disappointment in her stomach made Fran realise just how much she’d been looking forward to it.
But then he asked, ‘Do you still have time to stay and learn about cappuccinos?’
Pleasure fizzed through her—a feeling she tried to damp down, because she knew it wasn’t just the fact she was learning something new. It was because she’d be close to Gio. ‘Sure,’ she said, aiming for insouciance.
Gio was cross with himself for feeling so pleased that she was staying late again. And crosser still when he realised it was more than just pleasure at a new employee showing commitment to the café chain.
The real reason it made him happy was because he was going to be close to Fran.
When she’d hugged him yesterday, he hadn’t been able to stop himself hugging her back. And it had taken all his strength of will to let her go again.
This was bad. Really bad. Because now was just about the worst possible time to start a relationship, when he was thinking of taking the business up another gear and he had no free time. And Francesca Marsden was just about the worst possible person he could think of to have a relationship with, because she was his new office manager and he was going to need her help in the business. He couldn’t afford to lose someone who’d already shown initiative and drive and an ability to second-guess him.
He locked up, then motioned her towards the coffee machines. ‘Same as yesterday with the milk and the espresso, but this time you’re making cappuccino. That’s a third coffee, a third milk and a third froth. You’ll need to rock the jug a bit as you pour—or you can spoon the froth on top if you find it easier.’
He watched her as she worked. When she was concentrating, he noticed, she caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth. And it made him want to lean forward and touch the tip of his tongue to hers. Kiss her. Mould her body against his. Feel the weight of her breasts as he cupped them.
He swallowed hard, just as she looked up and slid the cup in front of him. ‘Is this OK?’
‘Looks good.’ He tasted it. ‘You need a touch less milk and a touch more froth, but for a first attempt it’s excellent.’
‘Thank you.’
‘When you’ve done your food hygiene course, you can practise on some customers. In the quiet spots of the day, that is; I wouldn’t expect you to handle the morning, lunchtime or mid-afternoon rush, first off.’ He smiled at her. ‘And now I ought to let you go home.’ He didn’t want her to go—but on the other hand, it was probably better for his rapidly unravelling self-control that she did. ‘Your family’s going to be beating my door down and yelling at me for making you work too hard.’
‘I doubt it. They know I’m a big girl and I can look after myself.’
She’d clearly aimed for a flippant note, but he could hear the underlying hurt. What was wrong? He fished in the tub on the counter, drew out a chocolate dipper and handed it to her. ‘Spill the beans.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. You’re the eldest of four, but you’ve hardly mentioned a word about your family. Whereas mine are always around—if not in person, then on the phone or texting or emailing.’ She’d met more than one of them, too. ‘Sally said my mum dropped by this afternoon. Gave you the third degree, did she?’
‘She was lovely.’
‘Yeah. She’s bossy and she’s interfering and she drives me absolutely bananas,’ he said with a grin, ‘but I still wouldn’t change her for anything. I knew she’d come and check you out. I bet she’d been skulking in the street, wearing dark glasses and hiding behind bay trees in big pots, until she saw me leave and knew the coast was clear to come and vet you.’
Fran laughed, but he could still see the sadness in her eyes. ‘Tell me about your family,’ he said softly.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’m adopted. My parents didn’t think they could have children. So they adopted me…and then the twins came along. And then Suzy.’
He reached out slid his hand over hers. Squeezed it. ‘Hey. There’s nothing wrong with being adopted. It just proves your parents really wanted you to live with them. They chose you.’
She swallowed hard. ‘That’s what they said, when they told me the truth about my parentage. That I’m special because they chose me.’
‘And then being able to have more children was a bonus for them. An unexpected bonus.’
‘Maybe. But I’m not like Suzy or Dominic or Ted. I…’ She struggled to pull her hand away. ‘Oh, just ignore me. I’m being wet.’
‘No.’ He refused to let her hand go. ‘Have you told your parents how you feel?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to hurt them or make them feel I don’t appreciate what they’ve done for me over all the years. But I know I’m a disappointment to them. The others were all good at sport and exams, and I’m not.’
‘But look at what you are good at,’ Gio said. ‘You’ve got tons of common sense—something a lot of highly academic people don’t have. You’re good with people. And you’re scarily organised. I’m willing to bet you anything you choose that they don’t see you as a disappointment.’He paused. ‘Something else Nonna says. You never treat your children the same, because they’re all different. But you treat them equally. And you love them the same amount—just for different things.’
She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Maybe.’
‘Definitely.’ How on earth could Fran not fit in to her family? She’d been here less than a week and already she was part of the team. He’d noticed a couple of times this afternoon that the Docklands team had been halfway to dialling Fran to ask for help sorting out a problem before remembering that he was there on the spot.
But maybe being adopted gave you a different perspective. Fran’s birth parents had given her away, so no doubt there was a part of her that would always worry her new family wouldn’t want her, either. That there was something about her that made her unlovable.
‘Have you ever tried finding your birth parents?’ he asked quietly.
She shook her head. ‘I’ve never wanted to. I’m sure they had good reasons at the time for not keeping me.’
And if she managed to trace them and they didn’t want to know her, Gio knew that a second rejection would shatter her trust in people completely.
Right now, Fran needed security—something Gio knew he couldn’t give her in a relationship, given that he didn’t know what he wanted from life right now. But he could definitely make her feel part of Giovanni’s.
‘It’s good that you’re not judging them too harshly. Not bitter about it.’
‘There’s no point. Being bitter isn’t going to change anything or make things better.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, Mum and Dad gave me a stable home.’
She hadn’t mentioned love, Gio noticed, something he’d always taken for granted in a large and noisy family where you got hugged and kissed every day and told how special you were. And even though the demonstrativeness had been excruciatingly embarrassing during his teens—especially when his parents insisted on showing all his baby photos to any girl he brought home—he’d