Lessons Learned

when it was natural. With a sigh, she gave up. “Anything moves faster.” She found herself in the right block, but parking space was at a premium. Weighing the ins and outs, Juliet swung over beside a car at the curb. “Look, Carlo, I’m going to have to drop you off. We’re already running behind. I’ll find a place to park and be back as soon as I can.”
    “You’re the boss,” he said, still cheerful after forty-five minutes of teeth-grinding traffic.
    “If I’m not there in an hour, send up a flare.”
    “My money’s on you.”
    Still cautious, she waited until she saw him swing into the bookstore before she fought her way into traffic again.
    Twenty frustrating minutes later, Juliet walked into the dignified little bookstore herself. It was, she noted with a sinking stomach, too quiet and too empty. A clerk with a thin-striped tie and shined shoes greeted her.
    “Good morning. May I help you?”
    “I’m Juliet Trent, Mr. Franconi’s publicist.”
    “Ah yes, right this way.” He glided across the carpet to a set of wide steps. “Mr. Franconi’s on the second level. It’s unfortunate that the traffic and confusion have discouraged people from coming out. Of course, we rarely do these things.” He gave her a smile and brushed a piece of lint from the sleeve of his dark blue jacket. “The last time was…let me see, in the fall. J. Jonathan Cooper was on tour. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He wrote Metaphysical Force and You. ”
    Juliet bit back a sigh. When you hit dry ground, you just had to wait for the tide.
    She spotted Carlo in a lovely little alcove on a curvy love seat. Beside him was a woman of about forty with a neat suit and pretty legs. Such things didn’t warrant even a raised brow. But to Juliet’s surprise, Carlo wasn’t busy charming her. Instead, he was listening intently to a young boy who sat across from him.
    “I’ve worked in the kitchens there for the last three summers. I’m not allowed to actually prepare anything, but I can watch. At home, I cook whenever I can, but with school and the job, it’s mostly on weekends.”
    “Why?”
    The boy stopped in midstream and looked blank. “Why?”
    “Why do you cook?” Carlo asked. He acknowledged Juliet with a nod, then gave his attention back to the boy.
    “Because…” The boy looked at his mother, then back at Carlo. “Well, it’s important. I like to take things and put them together. You have to concentrate, you know, and be careful.But you can make something really terrific. It looks good and it smells good. It’s…I don’t know.” His voice lowered in embarrassment. “Satisfying, I guess.”
    “Yes.” Pleased, Carlo smiled at him. “That’s a good answer.”
    “I have both your other books,” the boy blurted out. “I’ve tried all your recipes. I even made your pasta al tre formaggi for this dinner party at my aunt’s.”
    “And?”
    “They liked it.” The boy grinned. “I mean they really liked it.”
    “You want to study.”
    “Oh yeah.” But the boy dropped his gaze to where his hands rubbed nervously over his knees. “Thing is we can’t really afford college right now, so I’m hoping to get some restaurant work.”
    “In Denver?”
    “Any place where I could start cooking instead of wiping up.”
    “We’ve taken up enough of Mr. Franconi’s time.” The boy’s mother rose, noting there was now a handful of people milling around on the second level with Carlo’s books in hand. “I want to thank you.” She offered her hand to Carlo as he rose with her. “It meant a great deal to Steven to talk with you.”
    “My pleasure.” Though he was gracious as always, he turned back to the boy. “Perhaps you’d give me your address. I know of some restaurant owners here in the States. Perhaps one of them needs an apprentice chef.”
    Stunned, Steven could do nothing but stare. “You’re very kind.” His mother took out a small pad and wrote on it. Her hand was steady, but when she handed the paper to Carlo and looked at him, he saw the emotion. He thought of his own mother. He took the paper, then her hand.
    “You have a fortunate son, Mrs. Hardesty.”
    Thoughtful, Juliet watched them walk away, noting that Steven looked over his shoulder with the same, blank, baffled expression.
    So he has a heart, Juliet decided, touched. A heart that wasn’t altogether reserved for amore. But she saw Carlo slip the paper into his pocket and wondered if that would be the end of