“Just take a look in the mirror, pal,” Noah said as he headed for the archway. “You’re bride bait, and Aunt Sophie’s all set to reel one in for you. As soon as Jake and Nina tie the knot, I’m outta here.”
Trace watched his brother disappear behind the oilcloth. Noah was actually running scared. And for what? Some illogical fear that Aunt Sophie could make him fall in love with a woman against his will?
Trace wasn’t about to let that happen. He’d be getting married all right, but to a woman of his own choosing. A woman who fit the exact blueprint of the future he wanted to build. And he’d told his aunt that already, in no uncertain terms. She’d taken the news well. He frowned down at the level in his hand. Maybe a little too well. Maybe he should have another talk with her, just in case….
As if she were truly psychic, Sophie Callahan appeared at that moment, bustling through the makeshift oilcloth door with Café Romeo’s most inefficient waiter in tow.
“Trace, the place looks absolutely wonderful.” Sophie wore a hot-pink caftan and matching turban. Several gold bangle bracelets adorned each arm, making her sound like a wind chime whenever she moved.
Trace looked around the barren room. All the old booths had been ripped out, as well as the red shag carpet, leaving the old, worn floorboards bare. Plaster hung in chunks from the ceiling. Wires dangled from the newly installed drywall.
“There’s still a lot of work left to do. Especially if you want to open this new section in three weeks. I could hire some extra help….”
“That won’t be necessary,” Sophie interjected. “I’ve got the perfect man for the job.”
“Who?”
“Me.” Ramon D’Onofrio stepped forward, his shoulder-length brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He stuck his chin out and folded his arms across his narrow chest.
Trace swallowed a groan. Not Ramon. Anyone but Ramon.
“Don’t you already have a job?”
Ramon turned to Sophie. “I told you he hated me. Didn’t I tell you? I spill one cup of coffee on him and he holds a grudge forever.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Sophie said. “Is it, Trace?”
Actually, it was damn close to the truth. That coffee Ramon had dumped in his lap had come perilously close to doing permanent damage. Ramon was obviously as dangerous as the rest of the infamous D’Onofrio family. Trace shuddered to think of the havoc Ramon could wreak with a nail gun. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I just prefer to work with people who actually have some experience.”
“I made a birdhouse in seventh-grade shop class,” Ramon said, widening his puppy brown eyes. “And I’m always doing little repairs around the house.”
“Hammer something for him,” Sophie said, handing Ramon the sledgehammer on the floor.
Trace took a cautious step back. “That’s really not…”
Too late. Ramon took a swing at one of the braces Trace had just installed to reinforce the unstable west wall. Wood splintered as the brace split in two at the impact. The wall creaked ominously and pieces of plaster rained onto the floor.
“There’s more where that came from,” Ramon said proudly.
Trace didn’t doubt it for a moment. “I really can’t afford you.”
“No problem,” Aunt Sophie chimed, picking a chunk of plaster out of her titian hair. “I’ll pay Ramon’s wages. He needs a sabbatical from waiting tables, but I don’t want to lose him.”
“I just can’t take the stress anymore,” Ramon explained, his voice quivering. “The menu is so complicated and some of the customers can be so rude. You dribble a little coffee on them and they start screaming about lawsuits and third-degree burns.”
Sophie wrapped one arm around the waiter’s narrow shoulders. “I thought working with his hands would be soothing.”
Maybe for Ramon, but not for Trace. “How about a vacation instead? You could lie around on a beach somewhere and soak up the sun.”
“Sand gives me a rash.” Ramon swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his scrawny neck. “For once in my life, I’d just like to be good at something. Just give me a chance.”
Aunt Sophie leaned toward her nephew and lowered her voice. “Please, Trace. For me.”
Damn. Now she had him. He’d give his right arm for Sophie if she wanted it. All the Callahan boys owed her for giving up her own career in the carnival to take care of them after their mother had abandoned them.
But Trace owed her even more.
That’s why he’d agreed to remodel the addition to Café Romeo at cost. Even though his services as a freelance contractor normally brought in three times as much money.
And why he would agree to take on Ramon as an apprentice. Which might actually cost him his right arm. Not to mention a leg and numerous fingers.
“Anything for you, Aunt Sophie,” Trace said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
Her green eyes widened. “Anything?”
“Almost anything,” he amended, before he found himself saddled with a blind date on top of everything else.
“But, Trace, I’ve found the perfect girl for you….”
He held up one hand. “Forget it. We’ve already talked about this. Besides, I already have a date tonight with Kimberly.”
Aunt Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never liked Kimberly. She’s too…”
“Sweet? Nice? Giving?”
“Exactly. She’ll kill you with kindness. Or boredom. Or both. You need a woman who will challenge you. Who will add some excitement and unpredictability in your life.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t need,” Trace countered. He had his future drawn out as neatly as a set of blueprints. And he knew the exact specifications he required in a wife. He’d even made a checklist to use for rating potential candidates. He wouldn’t be caught choosing the wrong woman like his father had, then suffering for it later.
“Don’t be so stubborn,” Aunt Sophie admonished. “I just happened to do a reading of Kimberly’s coffee grounds, and believe me, that woman is completely wrong for you. Now if you’d just let me match you up with—”
Trace placed his hand over her mouth and slowly shook her head. “Quit while you’re ahead, Aunt Sophie. Jake and Nina are happy and in love, and you’re the one who brought them together. Why not just concentrate on their wedding? It’s only a few weeks away.”
Aunt Sophie removed his hand, her eyes glittering with excitement. “We could make it a double wedding! Jake and Nina, and you and…”
“Kimberly,” Trace interjected. “Or Heidi, or Evonne. Those are the top three in the running to become Mrs. Trace Callahan. But there’s no way I’ll be ready to tie the knot in six weeks. I don’t want to rush into anything.”
Aunt Sophie arched one orange-tinted eyebrow. “Spoken like a man who hasn’t met the right woman yet.”
Trace couldn’t argue with her. Not because he agreed, but because Ramon had started up the power saw and the noise made it impossible to think, much less speak. He turned to catch sight of the saw flailing wildly in Ramon’s hands. “Put that thing down before you hurt someone!”
Too late.
LATER THAT EVENING, Trace sat at his dining-room table knowing he had a decision to make. Kimberly sat opposite him, poised and perfect. Her perfection had actually begun to irritate him a little, but that could just be a side