The Calamity Janes: Gina and Emma. Sherryl Woods
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take her, Tony,” she said with a sudden sense of urgency. “Don’t let time slip away.”
He regarded her worriedly. “You aren’t sick, are you?”
“No, no, of course not.”
“It’s just that you sounded so sad, as if there were things you wanted that you might never have.”
She shook her head. “No, just things that mean the world to me that I could lose.” She told him the whole story then, leaving out none of the sordid details about Bobby’s betrayal of her and their investors.
True to his word, Tony listened and said nothing until she wound down. “Now, to top it off, the attorney who’s filed charges against Bobby is right here in Winding River. He thinks I’m as guilty as Bobby or, at the very least, that I know something that will help his case,” she concluded.
“But you don’t?”
She shook her head. “I was as shocked as anyone. I’m embarrassed to say that the first clue I had of how bad things are came when I read that deposition. That’s when I looked at the books.”
“Then tell him that, tell this man what you have told me. Hold nothing back. He will believe you.” He patted her hand. “If he does not, send him to me. I will tell him that Gina Petrillo does not lie.”
If only it were that simple, Gina thought. She glanced outside and spotted Rafe standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the bumper of a very fancy car, staring right back at her.
“Speak of the devil,” she muttered, resigned to the fact that the man was going to be true to his word and haunt her everywhere she went, even here in this place that had always been her sanctuary.
Tony followed her gaze. “That is Rafe O’Donnell?”
“In the flesh.”
“He looks like a reasonable man.”
“He’s not,” Gina said. “If he were, he would go away and leave me alone. I told him when I would return to New York. He doesn’t believe me. He’s determined to stick to me like glue until I go back.”
Tony stood up. “Then we should invite him in to join us, show him that you have nothing to hide, nothing to fear from him.”
“I don’t know,” Gina protested, but Tony was already opening the door and beckoning Rafe inside.
“Better you should sit here than loiter on the sidewalk outside,” Tony told him, ushering him to the table. “I will bring you an espresso, then I must get back to work in the kitchen so things will be ready for lunch.”
Rafe sat down opposite Gina, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked totally at ease, not one bit like a man on a mission to make her life a living hell. And, to her very deep regret, he was still the sexiest male she’d stumbled across in a very long time. She had really, really hoped she’d been wrong about that.
Rafe glanced around, surveying the restaurant with fascination.
“Is this where you got your start?” he asked.
“I worked at Stella’s for a while as a waitress, then came here. Tony taught me to cook.”
Rafe gestured toward the mural. “Who’s the artist?”
Gina turned to look at the familiar painting, tried to imagine how it must look through Rafe’s no-doubt jaded eyes.
“Francesca, Tony’s wife, painted it from an old photograph,” she explained a bit defensively. “She was born in Naples. She says that painting keeps her from being homesick, so I suggest you not make fun of it.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s probably too hokey for a sophisticated man like you,” she said.
“Are you sure you’re not projecting? I like it.”
She studied him to see if he was mocking her, but his expression was serious. “You really like it?” she asked skeptically.
“I said I did, didn’t I? I’m not an art snob, Gina.” He regarded her pointedly. “Are you?”
She flushed at the accusation. “I always loved it because of what it meant to Francesca, but it’s not exactly great art.”
“It doesn’t need to be. There’s a simplicity to it that I find appealing. It gives the restaurant a personal touch, a certain charm.” He met her gaze evenly. “Now I imagine your restaurant has Venetian-glass chandeliers, oil paintings you picked up in Florence, dark wood, fresh flowers and green linen tablecloths.”
He was closer to the truth than Gina cared to admit. Bobby had believed that to charge the outrageous prices he intended to charge, the atmosphere had to be elegant.
“Have you been to Café Tuscany?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Then you shouldn’t be making judgments.”
“Which must mean I got it exactly right,” he said, grinning.
“You did not.”
“Which part was wrong?”
“The tablecloths are dark red,” she murmured.
His grin spread. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you.”
“Oh, get over yourself,” she said, this time very clearly. “I have to go.”
“I haven’t even had my espresso yet,” he chided her.
“Then, by all means, stay and enjoy it. I’m sure Tony will be glad to keep you company.”
Casting one last wistful look toward the kitchen, Rafe rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, it’s not his company I’m after. Where you go, I go, so lead on, Gina.”
She scowled at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re going to tail me like you would some common criminal?”
“Oh, I doubt there’s anything common about you,” he said, but he didn’t deny his intentions. “You could save me some trouble and just invite me along.”
“The very last thing I want to do is save you from putting yourself out. If you want to follow me, then I suggest you get into that fancy car of yours and rev the engine, because I don’t slow down to wait for anybody.”
He regarded her with a resigned expression. “Suit yourself. Do your worst, Gina. I promise I’ll keep up. And just in case you have any ideas about exceeding the speed limit to lose me, remember I have my cell phone with me and I’ll use it to call the sheriff.”
“The sheriff is a friend of mine,” she countered.
“Which won’t matter when I suggest to him that you skipped out on a court-ordered deposition.”
“I did not skip out,” she said, her voice rising. “I postponed it. You know that.”
“Do I?” he asked innocently. “I imagine by the time we get it all sorted out, you’ll be late for whatever it is you’re so anxious to get to.”
Gina held on to her temper by a very slender thread. “I am not anxious to get anywhere except away from you,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Oh, never mind. My car’s down the block. You might as well come with me. I’m going to a rodeo. It might be interesting to see how you take to all that hot air and dust.”
“If you want to see me sweat, I can think of far more interesting ways to go about it,” Rafe taunted.
Gina felt her skin burn. Wasn’t it bad enough that the man was out to torment her over the mess Bobby had created? Now he apparently intended to drive her crazy with sexual innuendoes that stirred her imagination in ways destined to leave her hot and bothered and thoroughly frustrated.
“Don’t