A Little Slice of Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page A

let this go for now. But, Gi, promise me you’ll be real careful around this one.”
    One heavy exhale. Out. “I promise I’ll be very careful.”
    He clucked his tongue. “Couldn’t let my grammatical transgression slip by unnoticed?”
    For the first time since they’d begun their conversation, she smiled. “Once a teacher, always a teacher. Now, speaking of teachers, how are you doing? How’s UCLA treating you?”
    “ Not bad. Professor Morgan’s not big on praise, but he did say that my last two papers showed potential…”
    With the subject drifting far from Kyle, the upcoming wedding, and the daycare center, Gianna settled against the pillows and allowed her brother’s enthusiasm to carry her away.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    Kyle woke up disoriented. Had he dreamt the whole thing? God, he hoped so.
    Then he focused on a large rust stain decorating the stucco ceiling. Nope. This was no dream. He sat up in the lumpy, full-sized bed, smacking his lips and rubbing his eyes.
    Jesus, what day was it? Sunday? Monday? Who could tell? What difference did it make anyway? He might not know the day of the week, but he knew today was Day Ten.
    Ten days since the moment his life had changed forever. And all because he was a fool. Well, not anymore. He’d learned his lesson. A little late, but better late than never, right?
    Once this game was over, he’d go home and banish all the betrayers from his life. He’d start with the deceitful Lana who made promises of love forever, and then turned her back when he’d needed her most. Colette would be next. Colette, all sisterly devotion when he stood on his own two feet. But once he stumbled, the ideals of family fled faster than his Ferrari Berlinetta speeding on the Autobahn. He’d have nothing to do with women ever again. They were all poison.
    An image of Gianna’s face, her big Bambi eyes, popped into his head. Okay, so his lady of mercy from last night wasn’t poison. If anything, she was the panacea for the ills he’d encountered.
    Such boundless generosity deserved something in return. More than a token of gratitude, something special. What the hell. When he got home, he’d write her a check. Maybe she could use the money to hire a decent staff, rather than employing strangers she met in the parking lot. What was in her pretty, naïve head, allowing a complete stranger to stay here? For all she knew, he could be a serial killer.
    Oh, he was grateful. And he still had fifty days before he could return home. So, he’d stay here, earning a living and proving to Rory and David he could rise above adversity. He was tougher than they thought—not necessarily smarter, but definitely tougher.
    Tossing off the faded quilt, he rose from the bed and stretched the kinks out of his back. On his way to the bathroom, he spotted a photograph hanging on the wall. Taken at a beach somewhere, the picture showed a happy family frolicking in the surf together. Petite and dark-haired mom, tall and silver-haired dad, Gianna at the age of eight or so, holding hands with a diapered baby brother. All wore smiles of such familial joy he felt a pang of jealousy.
    Bah! He had similar photos in his home. In better frames, of course. Snapshots sparked his brain, as if taken with old-fashioned flash bulbs. The Hayden family skiing in Biarritz, he and his sister standing in the garden on her wedding day, a photograph of his parents—happy and smiling for once—taken mere hours before his father’s fatal heart attack.
    Who knew if the images here weren’t as much a sham as the ones he’d always believed in? Smiles could hide a multitude of ice and stone.
    Turning his back on the photographic vision of happiness, he entered the bathroom and closed the door. He cast the memories from his head by concentrating on the squeal of the tap when he turned on the faucet for another shower.
    Later, when he descended to the restaurant, clanging pots echoed through