Page 89 of Red Hot Roaster

Wait. What was this….? I picked up my phone and squinted at the screen.

“I’m getting a call from an unknown number with a San Francisco area code. Talk to you later—fingers and paws crossed.”

I ended our call and answered the new one. “Hello. How may I help you?” I went for neutral in case it was spam or a café vendor or Finn with a new number or…

“Hello,” came a deep male voice. “This is Antonio Amato. I’m trying to reach Rose Connolly.”

“Yes, I’m Rose. Thank you so much for calling, Mr. Amato. Are you Angelina’s father?”

“Yes, I’m her papa.” A pause. “She’s named after my older sister.”

Oh!

I must’ve said that out loud because he asked, “Is this a good time to talk?”

Chapter 44

Rose

Isat at my dining table, Pirate at my feet, beaming at Rafe on the laptop screen. Or at least, the Rafe of eight, ten years from now.

Next to him was a lovely blue-eyed woman in her mid-twenties. Both were looking at me like I was crazy, probably because my smile was so big my cheeks hurt. A handsome guy with dark hair in a man bun came up behind Tony and dipped his head down to peer at me.

“Is she okay, Papa? She seems stuck that way.”

“Nico!” his sister pleaded. “Stop it. You’re being rude.”

The trouble was, Nico, man bun aside, looked like my imagined Rafe of fifteen or twenty years ago.

My Zoom with the Amato family was off to a great start.

Yesterday, after a few minutes on the phone, Tony (please call me “Tony”—Mr. Amato was my father) had suggested we set up a video call.

“It’ll be better to talk face-to-face. I have questions, many questions. I’d also like my daughter to be on the call, if that’s all right with you.” He’d shared in the introductions that he was a widower with three children.

“Will Raphael be joining us?”

I’d figured this was coming. “He goes by Rafe now. And he won’t be joining us for this first call. He’s working in Boise at the moment—a temporary coffee-roasting job.” For two months…or maybe forever.

“We can still invite him to the call. Angelina knows how to do that.”

“I’m sorry, Tony. Rafe doesn’t know yet that I’ve contacted you. Please let me explain tomorrow.”

Gentleman that he was, Tony had agreed to wait to hear my story. We’d exchanged emails for Angelina to schedule the Zoom call.

Now she took the lead in breaking the ice.

“Ms. Connolly…”

“Rose, please.”

“Rose, thanks for messaging me originally. I’m sorry it took so long to get back to you. I wanted to show Papa your café’s website and social media pages. I have one question before we get started on all ourotherquestions.”

She grinned and leaned closer to the screen. “Do you have any pictures of Rafe where he’snotwearing a tiara?”

“Sure.” I was prepared, hitting theshare screenicon at the bottom of the Zoom page. “He’s camera shy, but here’s a couple of my favorites from when he took us to the beach in October.”

All three leaned close this time. And all three started smiling and nodding and glancing at each other. The family resemblance was unmistakable.

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