Rafaello’s
THE MIDDAY sun was hung across the middle of its arc and brightly projected its unobstructed rays. The beams glittered and bounced off the ringing black polished phone.
“Good afternoon from The Belmont. How can I help you?”
“Good afternoon, it’s Eve Rothmore calling for Vincent Solini.” It had been about two weeks since she saw him last. Eve’s workload and personal hesitancy had prevented her from calling any earlier.
“Let me get him from the kitchen, one moment ma’am.”
After a brief pause, the deep and sturdy voice came through. “Wasn’t sure you would call actually.”
Eve resisted the strong urge to ask if he would have delivered more flowers if she hadn’t called. “Getting your hands dirty in the kitchen, are you? Shouldn’t you leave that to your chefs?” Eve could not resi
