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“Please don’t call me that in front of a client.”
Rafe smirked from behind Tad, towering over him by just two inches or so.
Tad scolded her. “This is not a client, dear heart. He’s our friend.” Glancing back at Rafe, he added, “And we are so happy to lend a hand.”
“You’re fawning,” she sing-songed.
“Trust me, he deserves it,” Tad assured her. As if she didn’t already know the sort of visual appreciation Rafe warranted.
Before she could respond, Jenna’s cell rang. Not a common occurrence because her two assistants fielded the majority of her calls and then reported necessary callbacks to her and forwarded to her anything they couldn’t handle themselves.
Rafe said to Tad, “Why don’t I give you a tour of the kitchen. It’s a great space. My grandfather laid it out well.”
“How old is the restaurant?” She heard Tad ask as they wandered off, leaving Jenna to her business.
“Established in 1948,” Rafe said. “My grandparents still come in to cook, mostly on weekends. They’re supposed to be retired, but when it’s in the blood…there’s no quelling the desire to whip up a pot of bolognese sauce for the masses.”
They disappeared into the kitchen and Jenna snatched her cell from her purse. “Hi, Katie.” Assistant number one. She’d been with Jenna for five years now.
“Hi!” Another perky employee. “Did Tad arrive safely?”
Katie had a mad crush on Jenna’s project manager. Jenna smiled. “Yes. I even picked him up myself.”
“Oh, great. You said no limo and I was worried he’d have a coronary if he had to take a cab.”
“No, I wanted to meet him at the airport myself.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said in a dreamy voice. “I’m sure he was touched.”
“I can tell he misses the limo. He’s been a bit surly.”
“He’s always surly when he’s not pampered.” Katie laughed. “We love him, anyway.” She paused, as though thinking of Tad left her momentarily speechless. Then she said, “The real reason I’m phoning is that we’ve had a wild rash of calls the last two days—all from restaurants in the Bay Area. Word has spread that you’re in San Francisco and, as usual, the ‘while she’s in town, do you suppose she could come by my restaurant?’ queries ensue. More so than usual, actually.”
“I will never lack for work, will I?”
“Not in this lifetime. I’ll email the messages I vetted so you can sift through them when you have time.”
“That’d be great.” Jenna paused, her stomach suddenly tightening. In a quiet tone—not that anyone in the kitchen could hear her—she asked, “Any calls of a personal nature? From a woman named Linney?”
“Um, no. Are you expecting her, because I’ll patch her right through when—”
“No.” Jenna’s heart sank, though that was an entirely unreasonable reaction. Linney had never called. Not in thirteen years. “I’m not expecting to hear from her. Just thought I’d check. Anyway, if there’s nothing else…”
“Not on this end. I’ve got tons of paperwork to process. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Katie. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too.”
Jenna disconnected the call. Her lips twisted in her irrational contemplation over having so many people want to reach her because she was in San Francisco, except for the one person she’d desperately wanted to have contact her for so many years. Linney had to know she was in town.
On the other hand, it was entirely possible Linney was long gone. Her older sister had been in the Bay Area when Linney was eighteen—what were the odds she’d stayed all this time? Slim to none, Jenna suspected, because Linney possessed the same gypsy trait she did. And Linney had been even more of a loner than Jenna growing up.
She returned her cell to her handbag and found Tad yucking it up with the kitchen and wait staff. He had them in stitches, and when she heard her name, she knew he was telling Rafe’s cousins and other employees about something ridiculous she’d done.
Tonio chuckled as he draped an arm across her shoulders. “Jenna, cara mia,” he said, coining Vesta’s term of endearment, “you behind the wheel of a Mac truck? Of course, you were going to have an accident.”
“Hey, Macho Man, I learned to drive an RV when I was fourteen.”
