She was…a teacher. Yeah, a teacher. She taught high school business classes. Perfect, I could converse with this mountain man about business on a high school level.
Riley Mansfield taught high school business classes in Pittsburgh.
Riley Mansfield was a nobody from a nobody home in nobody Pittsburgh.
Riley Mansfield’s parents had a happy marriage and were living in their nobody home in middle-class Pittsburgh.
Riley Mansfield was a nobody. Invisible. And she liked her life.
The only problem?
Riley Mansfield didn’t exist.
But I could pretend. I was good at pretending. For a week, I could be Riley Mansfield, business education teacher from a happy Pittsburgh family.
And maybe, just maybe…I could feel Riley Mansfield’s happiness—if only just a little—this week.
“Okay, Matt,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Trudy’s Café was a homey little place situated in a large residential home. It had been remodeled inside and housed two separate dining rooms, both tiny.
“Matt, great to see you!” the hostess said. “Your usual table?”
“That’d be great, Trudy.”
Okay, this was Trudy. She was a pert little thing, nearly a head shorter than I was, but then, I literally looked down on most women. She had a few silver streaks in her dark hair and wore vintage clothing—a prairie skirt and peasant blouse. Huge silver hoops hung from her ears. In spite of all this, she was striking. Not beautiful in a classic way, but something about her worked.
She led us to a side table right by a window. “Here you go. Menu’s on the board as usual. Enjoy.”
Matt held my chair out, which surprised me. Sure, I was used to such manners in the big city, but he’d made such a big deal out of this small-town life that I didn’t expect such chivalry.
I liked it.
Being a gentleman suited Matteo Rossi. Sure, he was dressed in Levi’s, a plaid flannel shirt, and his long hair was an unruly mass of blond waves, but he acted as though he were donning an Armani tux in the finest Manhattan restaurant.
In fact, he looked better to me than the finest dressed male models in New York.
“Trudy’s food is the best,” Matt said. “Believe it or not, she studied cooking in Paris. But about ten years ago, after a painful divorce, she ended up here and opened up this little café. She does amazing things with the limited stuff we get here. It’s become a passion.”
“I’m sorry to hear about her divorce.”
“She doesn’t mind talking about it. It’s been ten years, and she’s doing great here.”
“So…what do you recommend?” I eyed the large chalkboard on the wall which, oddly, appeared to be visible from every table in the place. That must’ve taken some doing.
“I can’t recommend anything.”
“Then why are we here?”
“I mean, I can’t recommend anything because Trudy never repeats the same menu.”
My eyes popped into circles. “Seriously? In ten years she’s never repeated a menu?”
“Well, she’ll do the same dish, but it’s never exactly the same. If that makes any sense.”
“So every night is like the chef’s special?”
Matt laughed. “I guess you could say that.”
Three dishes were available tonight on the menu. Chicken breast with mushroom sauce, roast lamb chops, and pasta with sundried tomatoes and lemon. That was probably my best bet, though pasta was carb city.
“What sounds good?” Matt asked. “I can guarantee you they will all be delicious. I’ve never had a bad meal here.”
I continued perusing the chalkboard. Salad was fresh baby greens with homemade balsamic vinaigrette, and the soup was tomato bisque with wild rice. That sounded interesting. Wild rice was a whole grain—always good for my diet—and tomatoes were high carb but also very nutritious with lycopene and lots of fiber.
I laughed out loud. Why was I worried about my diet? Chloe Riley Mansfield wasn’t a model. She was a business ed teacher. Chloe Riley Mansfield didn’t burn herself and do coke to deal with her life. Chloe Riley Mansfield hadn’t brought any coke with her.
Matt cocked his head at my laughter. “Did I miss a joke?”
“No. Sorry.”
“Something must’ve made you laugh, Riley.”
“It was nothing.”
“That’s a shame, because you have a beautiful-sounding laugh, and your whole face lights up.”
Warmth spread through my cheeks and down my neck.
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t actually laugh a lot?” Matt said.
“I…don’t know.”
“Then you do laugh a lot?”
“I suppose not.”
“Then I’m honored. I was witness to something extraordinary.” He smiled.
And oh, was he handsome when he smiled. His teeth were perfect, of course, as was the rest of him. He had dimples on both sides, though the one on the right side was slightly bigger, making for an adorable lopsided effect. His icy blue eyes crinkled at the corners and seemed to speak right to my soul.
The eyes are the mirror of the soul.
One of my modeling instructors had told me that long ago, when I was a young teen just getting started in the business. We had learned to let our eyes do a lot of talking.
You can make anyone think he’s the only person in the room with the right look from your eyes.
I seriously doubted that Matteo Rossi had any kind of modeling training, but boy, did he have that eye thing down pat.
“Can I get you two a drink?”
I zapped out of my hypnotic stare at Matt and looked up to see a young server. And by young, I meant very young. So young his voice hadn’t totally dropped yet.
“Hey, Troy.” Matt looked up. “I’ll have a beer. Riley?”
“A…stinger, please.”
“Sorry, ma’am, we don’t have a full bar here. We have Guinness lager on tap, Stella in bottles, and tonight’s wines are a red blend from Paso Robles, and a white Burgundy.”
A white Burgundy? That sounded great. “I’ll have the Burgundy, please.”
After Troy had left, I said, “He can’t possibly be old enough to serve alcohol.”
“He’s not, but we don’t stand on ceremony around here. Troy is a good kid and he does good work for Trudy. Nobody here in Sumter Falls is interested in getting him in trouble.” He nodded toward a table in the corner. “Including Buster over there. He’s the sheriff.”
“Interesting. Things are certainly different here than in New…Pittsburgh.”
He laughed. “New Pittsburgh?”
“I mean Pittsburgh, of course.” Nice, Riley. You almost blew your cover.
“Of course you did.” Matt’s eyes twinkled.
I was going to have to be a lot more careful.
6
Matteo
She was definitely hiding something. I wasn’t one to pry, but Riley Mansfield had gotten under my skin in the five hours I’d known her.
I mean, really gotten under my skin. In an “I really have to fuck her” kind of way.