“Business is that good?” Gina said, surprised and pleased. “We have catering jobs booked for the holidays?” There had been a trickle of requests for information before she’d left, but she’d expected word of their financial straits to make most people too skittish to book them for critical holiday entertaining.
“Business is great,” Deidre said. “We have a big catering job for almost every night between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. And Ronnie and I have been able to cut a few costs in the kitchen. Nothing to harm the quality of the food,” she said hurriedly. “We’re just cutting waste.”
“Thank you again,” Gina said with heartfelt sincerity, as an idea began to take shape in her head.
If her sous-chef and Deidre were doing such a great job of running Café Tuscany and the catering staff, maybe Gina could end up having it both ways. Maybe she could work out a partnership with them for the restaurant and the catering business, and divide her own time between Winding River and New York. It was definitely something to consider.
That just left Rafe. She would never have believed it a few weeks ago, but deciding what to do about him was a whole lot more complicated—and more important—than figuring out how to straighten out the mess that Bobby had left her in. She had a feeling that fate had brought him into her life for a reason, and she’d be a fool to let him get away.
No sooner had she said goodbye to Deidre than the phone rang again. She picked it up, still lost in thought. “Did you forget something?” she asked, assuming it was her manager calling back.
“Only you,” Rafe said, his voice low and seductive. “I never should have left you behind.”
Gina sighed and settled back against the pillows. Suddenly space didn’t seem nearly as important as letting the sound of his voice wash over her. “Is that so?”
“Are you through thinking things over yet?”
She chuckled at the wistful note in his voice. Hearing that filled her with an amazing sense of satisfaction. “You’ve only been gone a few hours. I’m just getting started. Are you home now?”
“I’m in New York,” he said. “Funny thing about that, though.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t feel half as much like home as that hotel room did, especially the last few nights.”
“Oh, Rafe,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“But it just makes it harder.”
“Makes what harder?”
“Thinking.”
He laughed. “I told you before, stop thinking so hard. This is something you have to decide from the gut.”
“What is your gut telling you?” she asked curiously.
“That what I’ve found with you is too important to let slip away.”
His words were oddly reassuring because they so closely echoed her own thoughts. He hadn’t yet mentioned love. She had a feeling if he had she would have felt overwhelmed and even more pressured. These words simply hinted that what they had should be explored, tested…clung to until they knew exactly what it meant. She could live with that without panicking.
“Call me tomorrow?” she asked.
“Tomorrow and every day after,” he said. “Sweet dreams, Gina.”
If only, she thought. Something told her that without Rafe beside her, she’d be lucky to sleep at all, much less dream.
Chapter Fifteen
Rafe felt an overwhelming sense of relief when Charlie Flynn called to report that he had Bobby Rinaldi under surveillance in the Cayman Islands.
“He’s living pretty quietly,” Flynn said. “He’s certainly not throwing his money around.”
“What’s your take on the guy?”
“Frankly, I was surprised. I expected a lot of flash and dazzle, a woman on each arm, especially after what you’d said about the way he took in your mother.”
“And?”
“He’s just an average guy. There are no women, though he hangs out at the hotel bar most evenings. If one comes on to him, he certainly flirts back, but he goes back to his room alone.”
Rafe was as startled by that as Flynn. “That doesn’t fit the image I had, either.”
“What do you want me to do?” the investigator asked.
“Keep an eye on him. If the opportunity presents itself and you can do it without stirring up any suspicion, get to know him. See if you can figure out what his motive was in running out with all that cash.”
“Will do,” Flynn said. “I’ll check in when I have something.”
“Just don’t lose track of him,” Rafe warned.
“As if I would,” the investigator said scathingly. “Not for what you’re paying me. I don’t shut my eyes for a second.”
“I’m counting on that.”
Rafe hung up, his expression thoughtful. Why would Bobby Rinaldi betray Gina, run off with all that cash and hide out in the Caymans? He’d left a reasonably clear trail, so Rafe doubted he was trying to drop out of sight to avoid paying heavy gambling debts. What else could it be? Was he in trouble with some married lover’s husband? With the IRS? Rafe wondered if anyone at the restaurant might have a clue.
Knowing Gina would probably object, he didn’t tell her his intentions. Instead, he dropped in at Café Tuscany just before opening the next day. From the instant he entered the soothing, classy foyer, he understood what Lydia had been saying all along about the place. It was a step above most flash-in-the-pan successes. Café Tuscany wasn’t a trendy fluke. It was here to stay. Somehow he found that reassuring. It suggested that once she’d sorted through some things, Gina would be back. They could resume their relationship right here in New York, where they both belonged.
A slender, dark-haired woman wearing a simple, stylish black dress came toward him from the kitchen, a questioning expression on her face.
“We’re not open for another half hour,” she said with a warm smile.
“I know. You must be the famous Deidre that Gina has told me so much about.”
Her expression faltered. “And you are?”
“Rafe
