Touched by Angels Page 0,65

and expect a decent table to be waiting for you."

Roberto reached for his wool jacket. He hoped Brynn didn't recognize it as the same one from the dance. He owned only one suit, and he wasn't about to go out and purchase another just because of a silly dinner date.

"How do you know all this?" Roberto probed.

"I been around," Emilio answered with a hint of defiance.

That might be true, but Roberto didn't think Emilio had ever taken a girl out on a fancy dinner date.

"You got her flowers, didn't you?"

Roberto hadn't thought of that. "No."

"Oh, man," he said, shaking his head, "you're going to blow this."

"I'll pick some up on the way."

Emilio's face relaxed. "Good idea."

Roberto headed for the door, then stopped for his overcoat and gloves. The leather gloves were new and necessary to hide the car grease he couldn't remove from around his nails.

Once more Emilio followed him. "I know the perfect restaurant," he said excitedly, and snapped his fingers. "It's perfect. Call Mama Celeste's and make a reservation. The food's great and they think you walk on water ever since you repaired their van."

"Good idea." Unfortunately that was exactly where Roberto had already planned to take Brynn. He turned and met his brother, eye to eye. He couldn't remember when Emilio had grown so tall. Nearly ten years separated them, and Roberto had become accustomed to being the older, wiser, bigger brother. He wasn't taller by much, and that surprised him.

"I've already made arrangements to take Brynn to Mama Celeste's," he admitted. "And I don't want you making any excuses to stop by there this evening. Do I make myself clear?"

One corner of Emilio's mouth lifted with a cocky half smile. "What's it worth to you?"

Roberto eyes narrowed into a dark scowl, and Emilio laughed. "Hey, I was just kidding, bro."

Roberto opened the front door. "Don't wait up for me."

"Are you kidding, man? This is one night I'm going to want to hear about."

Brynn had been less nervous for her first high school prom. She checked her appearance a dozen or more times before the doorbell rang. Her inclination was to rush across the room and throw open the door, but she forced herself to remain calm and collected.

Roberto stood on the other side of the door, so handsome her breath locked in her lungs. It reminded her of the night of the church dance. He'd knocked her senses for a loop then, too.

Looking away, she stepped aside to allow him into her apartment. "Hello, Roberto."

He inclined his head slightly. "You look lovely." Smiling, he stepped into her apartment and tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek.

Surprised and delighted, Brynn raised her hand to her face, her fingers investigating the spot where he'd kissed her.

Next he presented her with a small bouquet of flowers.

"Roberto, how sweet. Thank you." She led the way into the kitchen, where she placed the bouquet of pink carnations and miniature purple irises in a tall crystal vase.

"I didn't think to buy any wine," she said, regretting now that she hadn't thought of that beforehand.

"We'll have wine later," he said.

"I'll only be a minute," she said, and gestured self-consciously toward the bedroom. "I need to get my coat."

The ride to the restaurant, an Italian one from the looks of it, took several minutes. Roberto, the perfect gentleman, helped her out of the car and then escorted her inside.

The moment she walked through the door, Brynn was greeted with the scents of basil and simmering tomato. Garlic permeated the air, and she inhaled deeply, the smell alone enough to make her hungry. No one needed to tell her how good the food would be.

Roberto apparently knew the owners, and standing with his arm tucked around her waist, he introduced her.

"Brynn Cassidy, meet Stefano and Celeste Seti."

She shook hands with the white-haired gentleman who was smiling broadly. His wife, Mama Celeste herself, planted her hands on her face and mumbled something in Italian to her husband. Brynn couldn't understand a word. Whatever it was appeared to please the grandmotherly woman. With a wide smile she kissed Roberto on both cheeks and promised them, in heavily accented English, the best dinner of their lives.

Soon they were seated at a table. Before Brynn had a chance to smooth the linen napkin on her lap, she was served red wine, thick slices of bread, and a large block of cheese.

The food never seemed to stop coming. Brynn sampled one fabulous dish after another. There must have been three