Henry Appleby has an appetite for life. As a recent high school graduate and the son of a wealthy family in one of Chicago’s affluent North Shore suburbs, his life is laid out for him. Unfortunately, though, he’s being forced to follow in the footsteps of his successful attorney father instead of living his dream of being a chef. When an opportunity comes his way to work in a real kitchen the summer after graduation, at a little Italian joint called Fiorello’s, Henry jumps at the chance, putting his future in jeopardy.<br><br>Years ago, life was a plentiful buffet for Vito Carelli. But a tragic turn of events now keeps the young chef at Fiorello’s quiet and secretive, preferring to let his amazing Italian peasant cuisine do his talking.<br><br>When the two cooks meet over an open flame, sparks fly. Both need a taste of something more -- something real, something true -- to separate the good from the bad and find the love -- and the hope -- that just might be their salvation.

Dinner at Fiorello's

Vito lifted his head to gaze at the void Henry had left behind when he disappeared with the nurse through the swinging doors. He could visualize Henry’s strong frame, his blond hair, the way his pants, too loose, sagged around his waist. He wanted to put his arm around Henry, to shore up his uncertain gait.


Vito couldn’t help it. Being here, in the emergency room, caused him to slip into memory. He never wanted to think about that night again. Yet here it was, this emergency room causing the memory to rise up like a grinning demon to stare him in the face.


It wasn’t St. Francis. It was some other hospital, and it didn’t really matter which one. Most emergency rooms were the same, and anyone who’s been to one has been to them all. The sick, the injured, the impatient, an aroma of terror and hope mingled with the scent of antiseptic in the air.


Chapter 64