Untangle My Heart

Inc.

Untangle My Heart

by

Maria K. Alexander

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Untangle My Heart

COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Maria Ketterer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2013

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-201-1

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-202-8

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To my parents for giving me the confidence to pursue my dreams.

To my husband and children for their unending patience and belief in me.

To my friends and critique partners, The Violet Femmes. Joanna, Michele, Jaye, Jenna, RoseAnn, and Diana, you fabulous ladies are a source of strength and encouragement to never give up dreaming. Thank all of you for your friendship and being an integral part in my journey to publication.

Chapter One

Kate DiFrancesco knocked back a shot of sambuca, the fiery liquor a welcome burn down her throat after the bombshell her family just dropped. She hated being the last to know—especially when it concerned her family. Lately, it seemed as though they didn’t tell her anything. She might have moved from Northeast Philadelphia to New York City, but she was still a member of this goddamn family.

Did you hear what your father said, Kate? her mother snapped. Don’t you have anything to say?

Kate pressed her lips together to bite back the smart-ass retort that threatened to escape. A quick glance at Carmen DiFrancesco, her forehead now furrowed in irritation, was a sign her mother was less than a minute from blowing a gasket.

It took a sip of cappuccino and a quick Hail Mary before Kate felt calm enough to respond. Yes, Mama, I heard. I just need a minute to process it.

Kate unfastened the top clasp of her slacks and made a silent promise to run an extra half mile tomorrow. Boy, did she wish she could rewind the clock to ten minutes earlier when her family had been laughing and gorging on homemade pumpkin pie following Thanksgiving dinner.

Why is this the first time I’m hearing about the pizzeria needing to close? I thought things had been getting better with the expanded menu and off-premise catering.

Her soft-spoken father, Joe, responded, which was a testament to the seriousness of the situation because he generally couldn’t get two words out without being talked over by someone. We know how busy your job is and didn’t want you to worry.

Kate waved her hands. How could you think I wouldn’t want to know when things were going bad? I’m never too busy for family. The fact that she’d distanced herself from her family the past couple years briefly entered the back of her mind, but she pushed it aside. Besides, I may have been able to help.

We’ve been managing, but six months ago another pizzeria opened two blocks over and has been steadily taking away our business, her father explained.

How bad is it?

We’re not making enough to pay the monthly expenses and salaries without dipping into our own personal savings, Carmen said. Her voice cracked with a choked sob that usually preceded the tears Kate was sure would start to fall at any moment.

Kate caught the warning look her father passed her mother when he thought she’d said too much.

What? She needs to hear this. They all need to hear this, Carmen said, wiping her damp eyes.

Her father, although tight-lipped, nodded. We’ve dipped into some of our savings to pay the bills.

Oh, Daddy. You shouldn’t have done that. You and Mama need that money for your trip to Italy next year, Kate said.

We needed to do something. He sighed.

And we hoped after a couple months the newness of the other pizzeria would pass and our customers would come back, her mother added. But that hasn’t happened.

The situation was more serious than she realized. Kate took a steadying breath. Tell me about this competing business.

It’s a pizzeria on one side and a casual trattoria on the other. They do take-out and host small parties. We tried to rent the space ourselves and expand, but were too late, her father explained.

And now they’re stealing our customers and forcing us out on our asses. Her younger brother, Vinnie, tossed his napkin on the table.

We can’t just sit back and let everything you’ve worked so hard for slip away. The DiFrancesco name means something in this part of the city. So what are we going to do? Kate asked.

Earlier, Kate sensed something was off, but now the tension in the stubborn faces of her family was as clear as her pants were tight. They weren’t even looking at each other. While it was usual for someone to be ticked off, silence was a rare occurrence.

Other than quit and bail out? her younger sister, Vicky, interjected as she swirled her glass of wine before sipping it.

Kate gave her a sideways glance. Once again the optimist, I see.

I’ll leave the Pollyanna attitude to you, sis, Vicky replied with a brittle smile.

Enough, you two! Her mother shot them the glare that used to stop them in their tracks when they were kids.

There is another option you all keep ignoring, her older brother, Nick, snapped and gazed pointedly at Kate. Maybe you can help me convince everyone it’s worth checking into.

Kate had always been closest with Nick. Growing up, they usually banded together against her younger siblings, taking each other’s sides in family arguments. Similar in looks and hot temper, they evaluated problems from different angles and put a positive spin on even the worst situations.

Kate raised an eyebrow. That’s better. Tell me your idea, Nick.

There’s a restaurant that closed on City Line Avenue. Great location. Some work would need to be done to update the inside, but the kitchen is in good shape. Minor updates to some of the appliances, but nothing we’d need to do immediately, Nick said, his hands clasped behind his head.

But the rent is high enough to feed the homeless in Pennsylvania. And then there are the renovations. There’s no way we can afford them. Vinnie shot his brother a sneer.

That’s what banks are for, you idiot. Nick lowered his hands and leaned forward, his dark brown eyes addressing Kate. We would have to take out a business loan in order to get things started, but if we did it right, we may be able to pull this off.

Vinnie smacked his hands on the table. "What’s with this we bullshit? As if you even care. You’re too busy being a hotshot cop to even notice what’s been happening. What the fuck do you know?"

Vincent Michael, you watch your mouth and mind your manners, Carmen said and gave Vinnie’s hair a tug.

Kate stifled a smile and saw the quick flicker of one mirrored in Nick’s eyes. Have you checked into what renovations would cost?

That’s where we were hoping you could help, Kate, her father said. Since you work at an architecture firm.

You want me to talk with Edward and Charles about this, Kate said with a nod.

This is small scale compared to the work they usually do, but we’re hoping you can convince them to give us their recommendation on how to update it, and an estimate on the cost, Nick said. It would help us know how large a loan to apply for.

Kate sipped her cappuccino, her mind drifting to her last encounter with Edward Weston two days ago. He’d stood impossibly gorgeous in a navy Armani suit, and with his dark hair and blue-gray eyes, he had a way of heating her skin even from across the office. And the worst of it was he knew the effect he had on her.

They’d argued. No surprise there. She enjoyed their little spats, but he may not be the most open-minded to helping her since she’d turned him down when he’d asked her to dinner. Again. Considering Edward’s annoyed disposition when they’d last spoken, she may be better discussing the restaurant with his more even-tempered twin brother, Charles.

I can ask one of them to come out and see the property, Kate said. But I’d like to see it first.

We have an appointment to meet the Realtor there at ten tomorrow morning, Nick replied with a satisfied smile.

Kate nodded. Sounds like a plan.

She hoped the new restaurant had as much promise as Nick believed it would. Her parents had always worked hard and taught their children to never give up on their dreams. They’d certainly supported her when she’d gone through a dark period in her life, despite her attempts at pushing them away. If she’d been around more, she might have been able to help them before things got this bad. Maybe helping out her family was the last phase in her own healing process and would allow her to truly move on from the events in her past, events that still haunted her all these years later.

****

Edward Weston finished the last bite of pumpkin pie and pushed his plate away. Dinner was fantastic, Meghan. You outdid yourself.

I’ll second that, Meghan’s brother, Kyle, replied. Just as good as Thanksgiving dinners Mom used to make.

And certainly better than anything Edward and I had growing up, Charles added.

Of course, we didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving in London. Occasionally, the chefs who worked for us made pumpkin pie, but it was not one of their specialties. Edward glanced at the pie and considered taking another slice. Maybe Meghan would give him some leftovers like she usually did.

I’m glad you all enjoyed it, Meghan said.

Now you can relax while we clean up. Charles reached over to squeeze his wife’s hand. You’ve already spent too much time on your feet the past two days between packing and cooking. Remember what the doctor said.

How could I forget when you remind me several times a day to take it easy, she teased, squeezing his hand back. I’m more than happy to relinquish this part to you three handsome men.

Meg always hated washing dishes and used to find all kinds of creative ways to avoid it, Kyle said.

Meghan smiled. Mostly thanks to Mom’s rule that whoever cooked didn’t have to clean up.

At least this time you have a good excuse, so I agree with Charles. Go rest, Kyle said.

Edward and Kyle started collecting dirty plates. The men cleaning up might have been a tradition in Meghan and Kyle’s family, but couldn’t be further from the lifestyle Edward was accustomed to. Growing up in London as part of a wealthy British family, Edward was used to living in mansions with plenty of staff to take care of the cooking and cleaning. They’d even had a butler to answer the door. As accustomed as he’d been to formal dinners and polite conversation, he much preferred the casual and intimate gatherings he experienced when visiting, and now living, in New York City.

Edward watched as his twin led Meghan to the sofa, caressed her just noticeably pregnant belly, and kissed her. Initially, it surprised Edward when Charles fell so quickly and so hard for this woman. Of course, it wasn’t hard to see why. Meghan was perfect for his brother, and Edward was amazed at the transformation he’d seen in Charles the past six months. Although still driven in his work, Charles had lessened his workaholic tendencies. He left the office at a reasonable hour, delegated to others, and smiled more. In fact, sometimes his brother’s overall cheerfulness annoyed the hell out of Edward.

He gathered more dishes and brought them to Kyle, who’d started washing. Becoming an uncle was an odd but exciting feeling. Growing up, there hadn’t been other children besides his brother at family functions. Holidays were horribly boring and consisted of hours trying to behave as was expected—an almost impossible task despite the harsh stares from his parents. No, it would be different with his brother’s children, and he’d have fun teaching his niece and possible nephew how to play football, or soccer, as they called it here in the States.

Last one in puts away the leftovers, Edward called over his shoulder toward his brother.

Charles extricated himself from Meghan, came into the kitchen, and started pulling out storage containers. What are your plans for later?

I’m going to grab a pint with a friend at a club in the Village, Edward said. You’re welcome to join me.

Anyone I know? Charles asked.

Do you remember Ingrid Fredrikson?

Hmmm. Tall, blond, with endless legs and a huge artificial chest, right? Charles said.

That’s Ingrid, all right. I’m surprised you remembered, Edward said.

I don’t. However, I know your type.

Well, in this case you’re spot on, Edward said.

How do you know this Ingrid? Kyle asked.

We met at a club a few years ago when I was visiting. We’ve kept in touch whenever I’ve been in the city, Edward said.

Which is my brother’s way of saying he has a recurring sleeping arrangement with her, Charles said.

The corner of Edward’s mouth lifted. I can assure you little sleeping is done.

Charles shook his head and spooned candied sweet potatoes into a plastic bowl. So why are you seeing her now? I thought you were interested in Kate.

Edward placed the pot he’d been drying on the counter. I was, or rather, still am interested in Kate. Unfortunately, she’s spent the time since I’ve moved here avoiding me and turning me down every time I ask her out.

Charles put the last of the leftovers in the refrigerator. Fancy that. You must be losing your touch.

Humph. Edward shrugged. It would be easier to accept her lack of interest had he not caught the heated glances she’d tossed him when she thought he wasn’t watching. No. He didn’t believe for a minute she wasn’t still attracted to him. But how did he get her to stop being stubborn and admit she was as hot for him as he was for her?

Kyle laughed. Kate does have a fiery Italian temper.

Edward turned to Kyle. You have a history with Kate. Any advice you can give me? Aside from kissing her stubborn mouth that turns me on even when she’s ranting at me.

Kyle turned off the water and dried his hands. That was years ago and we rarely talked outside the times we saw each other, which wasn’t often.

You’d never tried to pursue something more permanent? Edward asked, curious as to what one of Kate’s former lovers could say that would help him understand the walls she kept throwing up around her.

Not really. I was getting established in my job in Maryland, and Kate has a lot of emotional baggage.

Like what? Edward asked.

Kyle crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the counter. Something traumatic happened to her years ago. She’s never gotten over it and I’m not sure she can.

So you’re saying pursuing her is a waste of my time.

It’s not going to be easy. Is she worth the time and hell she’ll put you through first?

And she’d been giving him plenty of that over the past month. He’d always avoided women with emotional baggage. Why start now?

Kyle walked over and clapped his hand on Edward’s shoulder. If it helps, I don’t mind taking Ingrid off your hands for tonight.

Edward laughed. Sorry, mate. However, I’m sure she has a friend to bring along.

They were headed toward the living room when Charles grasped Edward’s forearm. Assuming Kyle is right about Kate being skittish toward relationships, you may want to be careful. However much she fights it, she’s drawn to you, and I can see you are to her.

You certainly wouldn’t know it by what she says. I’ve never had the time or patience for high maintenance females, Edward said, pulling his arm away.

Nothing worth having comes easily.

Edward tried but couldn’t help but resent his brother’s presumption. For years, Edward had sat back and allowed Charles to shoulder most of the responsibility of running their family’s architecture firm. How long would it take to prove to his brother he was no longer reckless and irresponsible?

Meaning I’ve always taken the easy road?

The easy road might have worked in your twenties, but maybe it’s time for an adult relationship now. Don’t fuck this up with Kate because you’re thinking with the wrong part of your body, Charles said.

I have no problem controlling all parts of my body. It’s not meant to be with Kate and I’m moving on.

Fine, I’ll back off. You were there for me when I had trouble with Meghan, and I’m here if you want to go off about Kate, or anyone else, Charles said.

Edward nodded. I know and thanks. He followed Charles out of the kitchen.

Yes, it was time to move on, and Ingrid would definitely take his mind off Kate and the frustrated state she’d kept him in since he’d been with her over the summer. If being with Ingrid didn’t help, he didn’t want to think what that meant or what he did from there.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Edward awoke with a hangover that thumped like the loud music at last night’s club. He opened his eyes and winced at the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. It served him right for drinking more than usual, at least more than he had in quite some time. A few years ago, he regularly spent the weekends overindulging in both alcohol and women. However, since his battle with lymphoma over a year ago, he’d curtailed his more promiscuous ways. That was, until last night.

The events of the prior evening came back in fragments. With a groan, he rolled over and buried his head under the pillow as the details came into focus. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He’d been a thoughtless git more times than he could count, but never as bad as last night.

He and Kyle met Ingrid and her friend, Yvonne, at a club. After several hours and too many tequila shots, the next thing he remembered was the taxi ride to Ingrid’s flat. She’d been all over him, not that he’d been complaining. After all, they’d been doing this for years, and sex was the climactic end to their evening. They danced, they drank. Then they fucked. End of story. There was no love, no romance between them. Never had been and never would be. Sure, he’d developed affection for her over the years, but it had never been anything but sex—for either of them.

Despite his allusions to his brother, he hadn’t planned on sleeping with Ingrid, but the combination of alcohol and his need to forget Kate drove all common sense from him. Once at Ingrid’s, it wasn’t long before they were naked and in her bed. What would have happened if Ingrid hadn’t spoken, hadn’t snapped him out of his vision of making love to Kate? What if they hadn’t stopped?

For fuck’s sake, he mumbled and rolled out of bed.

He stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. A glance in the mirror showed a man he almost didn’t recognize. Dark shadows haunted cold and unfeeling eyes. When had he become this person, or had he never truly seen himself? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like what he saw.

While under the jets of the shower, he recalled Ingrid’s reaction when he blurted Kate’s name. He’d been lucky all she’d done was make a snide remark and not belt him across the face—or somewhere more vulnerable. At what point had he morphed Ingrid’s pale blond hair and model-thin physique into Kate? It’s not like the two could easily be confused. Kate was the polar opposite of Ingrid, with a mane of auburn curls, olive-toned skin, and soft curves that could—and had—brought him to his knees on multiple occasions. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known or wanted, and she didn’t want anything to do with him. And after his behavior last night, he couldn’t blame her.

After dressing and popping two acetaminophen to ease his pounding head, he started coffee. Last night was a wake-up call he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. Kate wasn’t out of his system, and he couldn’t escape his desire for her in the arms of another woman.

Wasn’t that what his brother told him yesterday? That he needed to stop running from situations that made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was time to deal with whatever this was between him and Kate, and force her to deal with it, too. He pressed his hands to his temples as the mere thought of this made his head throb harder.

He chose a blueberry muffin from the pastry box on the counter, thankful he’d had the foresight to stop at his favorite bakery yesterday morning, and had eaten about half of it when his cell rang.

It had to be Charles, wanting to find out how his evening went. Even if it was warranted, he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from his brother. He pressed the answer button quickly, anxious to end the blasted ringing. What? he snapped.

That’s a hell of a way to answer the phone. Good morning to you, too, an irritated voice shot back.

Caught off-guard, he struggled to find his voice. Kate. I’m sorry. I didn’t look at the display and thought you were Charles.

He must have royally pissed you off to deserve a greeting like that.

Maybe I’m not in the mood for conversation this early.

Kate snorted. Early my ass. It’s almost eleven. You sound hung over. You must have had a hard night partying last night.

He wasn’t up for their usual banter. Is there a reason you called? After our last conversation, I didn’t expect to hear from you until Monday at the office.

As a matter of fact, yes. She paused, and he imagined her biting her lower lip like she usually did when dealing with things that made her uncomfortable. I was hoping you could help me, my family, actually.

He sat up straighter in his chair. In the short time he’d known her, she’d never asked for help. And you’re asking me? As I recall, you said you’d rot in hell before you came to me for anything outside work.

Yeah, well…I was angry, and you know how I get.

He most certainly did. Kate had a tendency to speak before she thought, without considering the repercussions.

Right.

Come on, Edward. I’m sorry for what I said. Are you going to make me beg?

An erotic image of Kate begging flashed through his mind, causing heat to shoot down to his groin. He cleared his throat. What is it you need?

There’s a restaurant my family wants to lease. We need an opinion on how much it will cost to fix it up and get it operational.

I thought your family had a business. Are they looking to expand?

Kate sighed. No. The pizzeria isn’t doing well, and they’re going to have to close. They plan to open a more sophisticated, upscale sort of place.

"I see. And you need my help," he said.

"I don’t need your help, Edward. I could have gone to Charles, but I’m asking you."

He swung his long legs off the bar stool and walked into the kitchen to refill his coffee. My brother turned you down, didn’t he? Edward could envision the indignant expression on her face and a hand on her hip.

She huffed out a breath. Okay, fine. I called Charles and he wasn’t available to help me today. He suggested you might be.

Edward didn’t believe for a minute his brother wasn’t available, but rather, said he was busy simply to throw Kate and him in the same room together. While a part of him wanted to throttle his meddlesome brother, he supposed it was best to not delay confronting his feelings for this woman considering the events of last night.

Where is this place?

On City Line Avenue, just outside Philly.

When do you want me there?

I’m here now with my dad. We don’t want to take too long to make a decision because they’ve already lost another place to a competitor.

I suppose that means today, then?

If you can. My mother offered to make you a home-cooked Italian feast for dinner.

And you? What will you do for me? he teased.

Not near anything close to the thoughts running through your perverted little mind. She paused. But I’ll be eternally grateful for your advice.

The idea of Kate’s eternal gratitude brought a smile to his lips.

I like the sound of that, luv. Tell me where to meet you.

After getting directions to the restaurant, Edward packed a small overnight bag in case he wanted to