Marco's Vines

By Grace Kagni

She’s a chef ...
He’s a billionaire in need of a wife...

Leena Malik’s life feels like a never-ending string of problems. She loves her job as a chef, but it doesn’t pay anywhere near enough to get by. Every bill that rolls in at the end of the month sends Leena’s blood pressure through the roof—and she only has a tiny apartment to run!

Then everything changes. Leena is offered a job as chef for Marco Conti, president and CEO of Italy’s highest-grossing business fund. Her financial fears are banished overnight—and the cramped apartment she lives in feels a lot less stressful when she’s barely spending any time in it, instead cooking in the huge Conti house.

It’s like a dream come true—or it would be if not for the fact that Leena finds herself attracted to Marco. It’s the sort of thing that can only jeopardize her employment, so it is best to ignore it. After all, they’d never work; their worlds are just so different ... aren’t they?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grace Kagni
• Release date: Oct 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301164080

Grace Kagni

Grace Kagni writes Italian romance novels. She is inspired by events reported on the Italian news such as avalanches, earthquakes, floods, femicide, political scandals, and organized crime which she adds as scenes, creating conflict in her romance novels.

Book preview

Marco’s Vines

BOOK 1

Famiglia Conti Series

Published by Grace Kagni at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 Grace Kagni

Revision 3 - Copyright © 2019 Grace Kagni

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my daughter on her 18th birthday. May you find a partner who is worthy of you, who loves and respects you as the character in my book.

From the Author

The characters in the Famiglia Conti series have been created to give you a taste of Italian romance.

They believe that family should always come first and that Italian traditions are deeper than the roots in the land they cultivate.

I've been working hard preparing some free stuff for you all. When you sign up to my newsletter, you'll receive a #FREE hot and spicy Italian novella by Rita Gracie the moment you submit your email address. You'll be able to start reading it within minutes. Click on the below link to sign up.

#FREE hot and spicy Italian novella

A warm thank you to Ada Frost for the wonderful book cover.

Other books by Grace Kagni

Famiglia Conti Series

Book 1 - Marco's Vines

Book 2 - Giacomo's Patience

Book 3 - Serena's Cellars

Book 4 - Matteo's Challenge

Italian Politics (The Billionaire's Affair) Series

Book 1 - Scandal

Book 2 - Breakup

Book 3 – Promise

Miller Family Series

Liam's Best – Book 1

Dalton's Embrace – Book 2

Tessa's Flame – Book 3

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Prologue

Well, I’ve given it my best, Leena said. She had really thought over every detail on the menu and chose every dish well—hoping to please the guests at the dinner party.

You were great and I’m really proud to be here with you tonight, Carolina said. She wouldn’t have turned her back on her best friend when she needed her most.

Leena looked at herself in the mirror one last time—smoothing her chef’s jacket. She knew this would be her chance to prove she was good at her job—she took a deep breath—picked up the tray of veal cutlets cooked in a Marsala sauce and roasted fennel with grilled Parmigiano cheese, and walked out of the kitchen.

The guests were ready for their main course—she placed the tray on the small serving cart in the corner of the room and started to prepare the portions. Leena handed the plates to her friend, Carolina.

Leena had been asked by the wealthy Rossini family to cater their special dinner—Leena was honored, knowing that the Rossini family hired only top chefs for this task. She wasn’t quite sure how her name turned up on their list of chefs, but she was extremely happy when they contacted her for the job.

Carolina served the last guest, picked up the serving tray from the dining room and followed Leena into the kitchen.

They look extremely pleased with the food tonight, Carolina said, smiling.

I hope so. I really need more work or I won't be able to pay my bills next month.

There’s no reason for them not to love your food.

Thanks, Carolina—you’re a true friend, but you know that people don’t always like the same things.

They’d be crazy not to hire you again.

Carolina walked over to the sink and started to wash up as Leena prepared the dessert.

Leena had a real passion for cooking and she put that passion into everything she prepared—tonight by preparing the most impressive dinner imaginable. She hoped the Rossini dinner would lead to more work.

She walked to the large freezer and pulled out the homemade tiramisu gelato she’d prepared the day before.

Then she pulled out the small crystal bowls she’d found in one of the cabinets and started to prepare the dessert—on the bottom she placed a homemade chocolate truffle biscuit which smelled heavenly—then she placed a couple of spoons of the tiramisu gelato on the biscuits and topped it all off with flakes of dark chocolate. The appearance of the dessert made Leena’s stomach growl, and before she lost her train of thought, she took a few sprigs of fresh mint and placed a couple of leaves on each gelato.

Dessert was ready—Leena ensured the bowls were all presentable while Carolina went to the dining room to clear the dinner plates from the table.

They finished every last bite, she said, winking as she walked back into the kitchen.

Leena turned to see Carolina—a slight flutter appeared in the pit of her stomach—she was about to serve the last course. She really hoped that she had made the right choices for the menu because this was the chance that would make her or break her as a chef.

Leena cleaned her hands on the towel. Let’s bring the dessert into the dining room before it melts.

Carolina brought the serving table back out to the dining room, then came back into the kitchen and took the dessert tray from Leena.

This is it. I hope they were pleased with the food tonight. I really need some luck my way.

Within minutes Carolina was back in the kitchen and gave Leena a huge grin. They love the gelato! They're ‘mmming’ with every spoonful. I really think you've taken the bull by its horns tonight, Leena.

Leena's hands started to sweat and shake—she thought it was the moment she'd find out if she'd find more work. She'd given her best—there was nothing she would have changed if she could have, so time would only tell.

As she turned to look at the kitchen, she focused on what needed to be cleaned—she and Carolina went straight to work. It didn't take them long to wash up the last pots and pans, and clean the stainless-steel countertop.

The kitchen was back in order as Leena had found it, and while she took off her chef's jacket, she looked around once more—dreaming of having a kitchen of the sort one day. Now that the job was over, she felt a little sorry to have to leave.

Leena leaned against the stainless-steel worktable and was lost in her thoughts when an older—very elegant—lady came into the kitchen.

Miss, your food is absolutely wonderful.

Thank you, Mrs. Conti, Leena said, recognizing the older lady from the fashion magazines.

"What is your name, mia Cara?"

Leena Malik.

Well, Leena. I’m not going to let you go until you give me your telephone number so I can call you tomorrow.

Leena was stunned for a moment—she pulled out a piece of paper to write down her telephone number for Mrs. Conti.

Mrs. Conti promised to call her the next day to chat. Leena watched as the older woman walked out of the kitchen, leaving a floral scent lingering in the air.

Leena looked at Carolina, who grinned and winked at her.

Mark my words. They’re not going to let you go now that they know how well you cook.

Leena shrugged her shoulders, hoping her friend was right. She really needed a break.

~ ~ ~

Leena was up early the next morning and started her day productively. She was stirring a meat sauce when the telephone rang. She picked up the cordless phone as she put the herbs into the sauce and was truly surprised to hear Mrs. Conti on the other end—Leena really didn’t expect her to call.

"Good morning, Leena. I was wondering if you could meet me this afternoon, around 4 p.m. near Piazza di Spagna, for a coffee?"

Leena’s heart started to race. Yes. I can meet you this afternoon.

"I’ll see you by the Fontana della Barcaccia at 4 p.m."

As she hung up, Leena wondered why Mrs. Conti wanted to meet her. It really piqued her curiosity and Leena hoped Mrs. Conti would ask her to cater a dinner for the Conti family.

She knew by magazine articles that the Conti family hosted many private and charitable dinners throughout the year—it could open more doors for her, making Leena’s catering known to other people. Butterflies grew in her stomach—she hoped it would be the break she'd been waiting for.

Leena went on to prepare a white besciamella sauce and then started to prepare the lasagna. Thoughts of her as a child, preparing a lasagna with her mother, popped into her mind as she built the layers of pasta with the meat sauce and besciamella.

Leena’s mother had been a great cook and Leena used to love to help her in the kitchen. She had taught Leena how to make many specialties from her hometown of Reggio Emilia, but at the time, Leena was too young to understand the importance of the gastronomic dishes her mother prepared. Now Leena would give anything to have her mother back and to have the pleasure of cooking together.

Leena stopped a moment as her heartache returned. She felt complete sadness knowing she would never again feel her mother’s soft kisses on her face—the warmth of her arms around her body. Time had dulled the pain, and yet the ache still crept in during her weakest moments.

The sound of the oven’s bell brought her back to the present—she finished preparing the lasagna—topping it with a good sprinkling of Parmigiano cheese and then placed it into the oven.

She focused on cleaning up and putting things away. Leena’s kitchen was very small and the countertop was short, which meant she had to wash things after she used them while she cooked.

When she finished in the kitchen, Leena looked at the clock and decided she had time for a bath—she walked to the bathroom to fill the tub with hot water while she thought about what she still needed to do before going to Carolina’s for lunch.

Carolina was like a sister to her and her family had become Leena’s family when her parents had died. She'd spent Sunday lunch at Carolina’s ever since that terrible night. It had slowly become a tradition and Leena didn't know what she'd do if she didn't have Carolina and her family.

Leena’s bathroom was very tiny, but as she lit some scented candles it filled the air with sandalwood—transporting her into another time and place. She undressed quickly and sank into the hot relaxing water—making all the cobwebs disappear. Leena put her head back and let the warmth of the water and scents from the candles lull her into serenity.

She must have been in the water for quite some time when she looked at her fingers and noticed they had suddenly turned wrinkly. She'd lost track of time as she soaked in the tub.

Her mind had wandered—as it often had—to the rent and bills she had to pay. The Rossinis’ dinner would pay her overdue rent and utility bills, but she would be in the red again next month. Leena’s precarious situation was consuming her, and as much as she tried to not worry, it kept creeping into her mind.

She dragged herself out of the tub and put on her tattered bathrobe before going to check on the lasagna. As soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, the wonderful scent of her lasagna greeted her as she made her way to the kitchen.

She opened the oven carefully as the vapor from the oven caressed her face. The lasagna had a nice golden color—she pulled it out and put it aside to let it cool off a bit, before going to get dressed.

Leena opened her closet and stared at the meagre contents of her wardrobe. Work had been scarce the last couple of years and she really didn’t have any extra funds to splurge on clothing. After the bills were paid, she’d spent whatever was left on kitchen utensils and equipment so that she had the necessary tools to work. She’d always been able to find small catering jobs, but these didn’t seem to be enough lately.

The Rossinis’ dinner party last night paid well—I should be okay for the next month, and yet unless a real job comes around soon, I’ll need to leave my apartment and find alternative accommodation.

She pushed the thought from her mind as she sorted through her wardrobe and pulled out an old olive-colored summer dress that still looked decent. Pulling it over her head, she looked at herself in the mirror and decided that she really needed to get some new clothing soon.

She applied a little makeup and—after trying different hairstyles—decided to wear her long, dark chestnut hair tied up since it would keep her cooler in the June Roman heat. Then, she walked back into the kitchen to wrap the lasagna to take to Carolina’s. Leena grabbed her bag on her way out and cautiously locked the door while balancing the hot lasagna on her arm.

When Leena finally made it outside, she looked at her scooter.

There’s no way I’ll be able to balance hot lasagna on my scooter. I guess I’ll have to take the bus.

While she walked toward the bus stop, Leena glanced around and noticed it wasn't coming down the street—she sat on the bench beside a couple. As soon as she sat down, she felt a breath over her shoulder—sending chills down her spine while she turned to see who was there. It was Fabrizio, an ex-boyfriend who’d become obsessive and violent.

Is that lasagna? It smells nice. How about we take it up to your apartment and have it after I fuck you until you scream out my name, Fabrizio said, purring into her ear.

Leena felt the chills down her back at the thought of him touching her again. Just then, the bus arrived, so without saying anything to Fabrizio, Leena got up and followed the people onto the bus. Fabrizio got on the bus too and sat behind her.

She could feel his breath on her neck, so she leaned forward, hoping the bus ride wouldn't be too long. Just before it arrived at Carolina's apartment, she sent her friend a message asking to meet her at the bus stop.

When the bus stopped, Leena got off with Fabrizio trailing not far behind—luckily, Carolina was at the stop waiting. As soon as Carolina saw Fabrizio, she growled at him and told Fabrizio to leave or she would call the police

Fabrizio smirked and turned to go the other way.

What was Fabrizio doing on the bus? Carolina asked as they walked the rest of the way to her apartment.

He showed up at my bus stop and got on the bus with me. Thanks for coming to my rescue. I don't know what I would have done if he persisted, Leena said, smiling weakly at her friend.

We would have called the police. You need to remember that if he comes anywhere near you, the first thing you need to do is call the police. If he doesn't stay away, then the police will deal with him.

I know—but it's not that easy. I'm afraid he'll hurt me if he's angry, Leena said.

Do you want to sleep here? Carolina asked as they walked up to her apartment.

No, I'll be okay. I'm sure it was just a coincidence that he was at the bus stop when I arrived.

Carolina's father, Francesco, came to the door to greet them and he took the lasagna from Leena's hand.

Thank you for having me over, Francesco.

You are family and I only see you on Sundays. Carolina told me you were bringing a lasagna, he said, inhaling the scent from the bag she was carrying.

Yes, Leena said, following Carolina into the kitchen.

Leena stopped at the kitchen’s entrance, noticing Carolina had set the table with her mother’s blue flower pattern plates.

You’ve pulled out your mother’s favorite china. It’s nice to see things that remind us of your mother—I really miss her. She was like a mother to me when my parents passed away, Leena said, pulling Carolina into a hug.

Yes, I thought it was time to use my mother’s things. My father seems to like seeing objects that remind him of her presence around the house. I was afraid it would make him sad, but every time I pull something out that belonged to her, he tells me stories about their time together.

Francesco joined them in the kitchen and noticed the china plates on the table; leaning over, he gave Carolina a kiss on the cheek.

He told them about the time that he had taken his wife to buy the china plates and how they had argued over the pattern. Francesco remembered how she’d been determined to have this blue flower design—arguing about it until he finally gave up to make her happy. Now it brings my thoughts back to that day. I still see the determination she had in her eyes—she was such a strong little woman. I loved her for her strength. He smiled wearily.

They sat down to their Sunday lunch, and as they ate, they talked about old times and the summers they spent together. Leena grew up near Carolina and they had spent summers together out on their bikes until sunset. Friday nights had been their sleepover night—when they watched scary movies. They both smiled as they thought back to those times that now seemed so far away.

Leena had moved away after her parents died because she couldn’t continue to pay the rental fee. It seemed like yesterday when the police had knocked on her door late one night to tell her that her parents had died in a car accident. She’d run all the way to Carolina’s house and cried in her arms all night—she was only nineteen. If it weren’t for Carolina and her family, Leena didn’t think she could have survived.

Carolina pulled out the homemade strawberry crostata she’d made that morning and placed it in the middle of the table. Soon the scent of freshly made espresso filled the room as they sat around the table, enjoying Carolina’s dessert.

Leena was sorry when the afternoon had passed and it was time for her to go.

Carolina walked Leena to the bus stop—making Leena promise to call her as soon as she’d met with Mrs. Conti.

The bus passed a moment later and Leena took it to the underground, getting off finally at Piazza di Spagna. Enjoying the warmth of the sunshine as she stepped out onto the street, she walked toward Trinita dei Monti. The sun was blinding, and yet revitalizing as she walked the few steps to her destination.

The streets were full of people. Rome in the summertime was always bustling with tourists. Sales would hit the stores in a few weeks, summoning the Romans back to the city from their lazy days at the beach.

Leena arrived a little before the appointment and while she waited, she felt butterflies dancing in her belly—hoping she’d impressed Mrs. Conti. The sun was hot and she was becoming unbearably nervous waiting in the sun.

Leena saw Mrs. Conti walking toward the Fontana della Barcaccia, wearing a beautiful black silk dress that gave every appearance of elegance. Walking beside Mrs. Conti was a young woman, whom she introduced as her assistant, Francesca—then Mrs. Conti immediately suggested they go to a nearby café to talk.

Leena followed Mrs. Conti and Francesca down Via dei Condotti to Café Greco. It was a popular place for the Romans, and as they approached, Leena noticed the line of people waiting outside. Wondering how long they would have to wait in the hot sun, she was surprised when they were immediately greeted at the door by the owner and brought to a private table.

So, Leena. Tell me a little about yourself, Erminia said.

Leena took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Well, I’m from Rome—apart from the time I spent studying at the Marchesi Cookery School in Brescia—I've never lived anywhere else. I graduated from the school three years ago and I’ve been working seasonal jobs since I graduated.

What about family? Do you have any in Rome? Mrs. Conti asked.

No, my parents died seven years ago and I’m an only child.

"I’m sorry to hear that, mia Cara. You must have been young when your parents died."

Yes, I was nineteen.

How have you survived on your own?

"Well, I moved