Grateful Hearts (Home for the Holidays)

Chapter Fourteen

Mario sat at his favorite corner booth in his restaurant, nursing a shot of whiskey and staring at his phone. The usual warmth of the bustling kitchen and the familiar scent of garlic and marinara brought no comfort tonight. The screen showed a string of unanswered texts and missed calls to Chantel.

“Still nothing?” Brian asked, sliding into the seat across from him with a clipboard of menu notes.

Mario shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “Nothing. Not a damn word. It’s been three days now.”

“Maybe she just needs space,” Brian offered.

“Space?” Mario’s voice edged into anger. “She took off without saying a word. No call, no text, nothing! And I’m supposed to just sit here and act like everything’s fine?”

Brian raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. At least Ivan and I figured out a menu for this week. Customers are already asking for the mushroom risotto, by the way.”

“Good.” Mario tossed back the whiskey, the burn doing little to dull the knot of frustration in his chest.

Brian didn’t reply. He wisely excused himself and went back to the kitchen.

Mario was still stewing when his phone vibrated on the table. He grabbed it without looking, almost barking into the receiver. “Yeah?”

“Well, don’t you sound testy,” came Joe’s familiar accented voice.

Mario straightened and got straight to the point. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

Joe chuckled. “Impatient as ever, huh? Yeah, I’ve got something. Chantel booked a plane ticket to Knoxville, Tennessee, and booked a hotel in Gatlinburg.”

“Gatlinburg?” Mario repeated, disbelief coloring his tone. He knew that was one of the places she had listed on that piece of paper, but what was in Gatlinburg?

“What the hell is she doing there?”

Joe snorted. “Beats me. Maybe she wanted a mountain getaway. Either way, that’s where she is.”

Mario rubbed his temple, trying to connect the dots. Gatlinburg wasn’t exactly the kind of place he’d picture Chantel running off to. Why there?

“Thanks, Joe,” Mario said finally. “You’ve been a huge help. I’ll have money wired to you.”

“Anytime. Good luck, and let me know if you need anything else.”

Mario hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before setting it down with a decisive clink. Enough was enough. If she wasn’t going to come back on her own, then he was going to get her. He was done waiting around.

He pulled out his phone, brought up a browser, and typed “flights to Knoxville.” Within minutes, he’d booked a ticket for the following day.

“Gatlinburg, huh?” Mario muttered to himself, setting his phone down and pouring another shot of whiskey. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Chantel.”

The fire that had been simmering in him the past few days had reignited. He didn’t care what her reason was. He was going to find her, bring her back, and get to the bottom of whatever made her think she could just leave him.