The Italian Affair (6 page)

Gina had never really thought about it in that light. Perhaps something was being lost along the way. Gina followed him down the stone path to the back of the property, deep in thought.

‘My father should be around here somewhere,’ said Rick. ‘We’ll say hello to him, then head over to the house for something to eat.’

Gina saw an elderly man in his seventies, hunched over some potting mixture in a big wooden tub. His tapered fingers were delicately planting seedlings like an artist painting a masterpiece. ‘There he is,’ said Rick.

The man looked up as they approached. ‘Ah, Rick, I was wondering when you were going to turn up. I need you to—’ He broke off suddenly, noticing Gina. Mr Caruso straightened his back, squinted, then shoved his glasses further up his nose adding. ‘Ah, I should have known … and who is this pretty young thing?’

Before Rick could introduce her, Gina stepped forward and said, ‘
Mi
chiamo Gina Rosselini
.’

Rick’s father wiped his hands on his work overalls, his nails black from soil. He held out his hand. ‘Ah, pleased to meet you, Gina. Welcome.’

Gina took his hand firmly and smiled with warmth. ‘I’ve heard about you from my grandfather. He says you grow the best
pomodoro
… tomatoes … in the region.’

Mr Caruso’s face broke into another broad smile. ‘I know your grandfather well. I also knew your parents.’ He shook his head. ‘They were good people. I’m so sorry about what happened to them.’

Gina’s eyes flickered but her voice was steady. ‘It was a long time
ago.’ She paused slightly, holding his gaze. ‘At least they died together.’ The memory of the crash that took her parents’ lives was never far from her conscious mind.

‘You must have been about six years old at the time,’ Mr Caruso remarked. ‘So young.’

‘Actually, it was the day after my seventh birthday,’ she said, correcting him. She quickly changed the subject. ‘You know, I’ve always wanted to have a look in your greenhouses. When I was a child, we used to pass here on the way to church. My father called them temples of glass. He used to tell me how hard you all worked.’ Her gaze travelled along the glasshouses surrounding them.

Mr Caruso leaned forward, speaking softly. ‘But you did come here once when you were about knee high. Your father brought you in.’ He smiled, his eyes reflective. ‘But you probably don’t remember, eh?’

Gina laughed. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t.’

He gave a smile. ‘I remember Rick showing you his sand pit and toys while your father and I talked business. You both played together quite well.’ He chuckled as he glanced at his son. ‘Then Rick tried to boss you around. But he didn’t get his own way.’

‘Oh, what happened?’ asked Gina curiously, eager for more details. She flashed a smile at Rick enjoying his discomfort.

‘Papá …’ groaned Rick. ‘I’m sure Gina doesn’t want to hear this.’

‘Oh, but I do,’ she replied wickedly.

Mr Caruso continued, ignoring the scowl on Rick’s face. ‘Well, you swiped him one with your spade. He tackled you, pushed you onto the sand and wouldn’t let you up until you said sorry. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t give in, so we had to intervene. But all was settled with a lollipop each. Then you were the best of friends again.’

Rick coughed awkwardly. ‘I think we’d better be on our way. We don’t have a lot of time. And I promised Gina some lunch.’

‘Take Gina on a tour of the glasshouses,’ suggested Mr Caruso.

‘I don’t think she—’

‘I’d like to,’ she said.

‘Excuse me, if I don’t go with you,’ Mr Caruso called after them apologetically. ‘I have a lot of orders waiting. I really must get on with them.’

Gina nodded. ‘It was lovely to meet you and to hear about Rick as a child. He hasn’t changed much.’

‘Yeah, neither have you,’ he muttered under his breath. She followed Rick’s broad frame through the glasshouse door. ‘I hadn’t realized we’d met before,’ she said.

‘Neither had I,’ he replied drily.

He guided her down the aisle towards the other end, explaining briefly the procedure from growing the tomatoes from seed until they were ready to harvest. He plucked a luscious red tomato and handed it to her. ‘Here, have a taste. It matches the shade of your lipstick,’ he said with humour.

Gina noticed the skin, glossy and ripe. ‘That’s the most romantic thing anyone has said to me in a long time,’ she mused, tilting her chin up to him.

‘Actually, it wasn’t meant to be romantic,’ he replied softly. ‘It’s just a fact.’

‘You’re pretty down to earth, aren’t you, Rick Caruso?’

His blue eyes steeled, but there was a glimmer of something else. ‘Put it down to the job I do. Facts are what I deal with. Murder, extortion, theft.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Even adultery. All the vices of the human race.’

‘Vices, huh? And I suppose you don’t have any?’

Rick grinned. ‘I didn’t say that. Being a private investigator and ex-cop doesn’t mean to say I’m not human.’

‘Sometimes I wonder,’ she said, under her breath.

Gina took a bite of the tomato, the juice running down the side of her lips. Rick lifted his finger and skimmed her mouth, wiping the juice away. ‘You need a handkerchief. Sorry I can’t oblige this time.’

For a moment, both of them stood staring at each other, neither
of them willing to move. The heat in the greenhouse was intense, the glass panes steaming up as the sprinklers were switched on one by one. Rick swallowed, aware of something intangible.

Gina moved forward bumping against him slightly as she tried to avoid the water from the sprinkler. Her head lifted while her lips parted with apology. Rick’s arms automatically reached out to steady her. What happened next was totally unexpected. His body touched hers, his mouth only inches away from her face. He zoomed in on her lips fascinated to see a trace of tomato around the edges and very tempted to taste both. He knew he ought to step back and was about to when in one artful movement, the tip of her pink tongue appeared and stroked along her lips. Water spray hissed quietly around them. His pulse raced. He leaned forward only to be interrupted by a cough from behind. It had them both jerking apart like guilty teenagers.

‘Do you know where the owner is? I’d like to buy some tomatoes.’ A woman’s voice spoke, sharp and reprimanding.

Rick looked up, furious at himself for being caught out like that. ‘My father is around the back of the potting shed. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you.’

‘Hmm, obviously they cultivate more than tomatoes round here,’ the woman muttered to her companion as they walked away twittering to themselves.

Outside, Rick gulped in the fresh air, more from relief than from the heat. He’d damned well nearly kissed her. What the hell had got into him? He was on an assignment not a damned date.

‘It is certainly good to be out of there,’ he said to break the silence. The comment hung in the air and again he cursed inwardly at his lack of control.

Gina also breathed in deeply as her hand rose to her chest. She fingered the fine gold chain around her neck casually, a slight tremor in her voice as she answered him. ‘I don’t know how your father can bear working in that heat. The humidity under the glass was unbelievable.’

Rick walked beside her, trying to dissipate a different kind of heat, one that was generated by the sultry essence of her skin. Another glance at her made him break out in a hot sweat. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. ‘My father’s had a lifetime to get used to it. I’m glad I didn’t follow him into horticulture. Tomatoes aren’t my forte,’ he replied. ‘But I’m not knocking it: it’s a good living and a healthy one. It’s just not for me, that’s all.’

Gina stopped dead. ‘And what exactly is your style, Rick Caruso? Looking after rich girls in case they get into mischief?’

He gave her a long, level look, trying to keep his temper in control. He didn’t know why he felt so annoyed. But one thing he did know, she hadn’t been as immune to the incident in the greenhouse as he had first thought. Dangerous, he thought. Very dangerous. All the same, he knew when he answered, his words would irk her. ‘Maybe you’ll find out someday, Gina Rosselini.’

Gina took in the kitchen with one look. Gleaming copper pans hung on the walls and tall bottles of green, red and cream-coloured pasta sat side by side on the tiled bench. The walls, colour-washed in
blue-green
, resembled shades of the ocean. Stacked high in a wicker basket on the scrubbed wooden floor were fresh vegetables, juicy red peppers, strings of garlic and bunches of onions, all adding piquant colour. And all cultivated and harvested by Mr Caruso.

Gina couldn’t help but compare her own kitchen against this one. She’d tried to make her apartment as cosy as possible. However, this was a real family home, she decided.

‘Take a seat,’ said Rick. He set down two long glasses. From the fridge, he took out a jug. ‘Fresh lemonade. My mother makes it first thing.’ He placed it in the middle of the table. ‘There you go.’

‘Thanks. I’m parched,’ she remarked.

‘Ice?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Still hungry?’

‘Ravenous,’ she replied honestly.

‘I’ll see if I can rustle up some food.’

‘Thanks. Do you cook?’

He flashed her a grin. ‘Not if there’s a woman around.’

If she had something in her hand she would have thrown it at him. Instead she made a face.

Rick moved efficiently around the kitchen taking out some sliced ham, mozzarella cheese and pickle. He found a loaf of baked bread in the pantry. ‘It’s nothing fancy, but it’s fresh and it’s wholesome.’

He placed the plates and cutlery on the table.

‘Can I help?’ she asked.

‘Nope … you just stay put. I know where everything is. And I’ll be quicker.’

It was then she noticed a photo sitting on a shelf nearby. Rick had his arms around a young dark-haired woman who looked to be in her middle twenties. The woman looked familiar somehow. Was it his girlfriend, she wondered? The thought didn’t please her and she didn’t know why.

Rick noticed her interest. He picked up the photo and handed it to her. ‘Here, take a look. That’s my sister, Elena. She’s a nurse.’ He grinned. ‘Actually, you met her the other day.’

‘I did?’

‘Yeah. She was the nurse I was busy talking to in the hospital corridor.’

Stunned, she could only stare at him. ‘Oh….’ That nurse. The one she had practically accused him of flirting with. ‘I … er … hadn’t realized.’ Her face flushed. She took a sip of lemonade, then placed the glass back on the table. ‘I guess I thought—’

He interrupted her. ‘Yeah, I know exactly what you thought. Just shows, doesn’t it? You can’t jump to conclusions. Because nine times out of ten it will be wrong. Being a cop taught me that.’

He had a point. ‘OK. I made a mistake, I admit it.’ Gina took in the photo again. ‘She’s pretty. Is she married?’

‘She was. Her husband died a couple of years ago. A work accident. He was a construction worker.’

Gina’s heart went out to the woman. ‘I’m really sorry.’ Now she felt even worse.

Rick placed the photograph back on the bench. ‘Things were a bit rough for her especially since she’s got two young sons. Luckily, my parents rallied around.’

‘Hmm … I guess that figures being Italian. There’s nothing like family, is there?’ She took another bite of bread, and swallowed. Her thoughts were never far away from her own sister. ‘So where’s your mother? I thought she might have been here.’

‘She’s out.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘But she’ll be back any minute. She has a cleaning job at a local motel. My father’s not too keen on her doing it, but she’s got a mind of her own.’

‘You agree with him?’

Rick finished his mouthful as he leaned back. ‘Yeah, I do. I’d say she’s got enough to do around here as it is.’

‘You don’t approve of a woman working outside the home?’ Gina asked testily.

‘I didn’t say that – but I certainly wouldn’t approve if my wife had children. I’m not into putting kids into childcare. If you have kids, you look after them.’

‘The Italian macho male,’ she said mockingly.

‘Maybe,’ he answered seriously, ‘but when you think about it, it’s just down-to-earth common sense.’

Just then, his cell phone rang. He answered it. ‘Caruso.’ The conversation was brief. ‘Twenty minutes,’ he said, flipping his phone closed. He looked at Gina. ‘We have to call back to the station and see Dave Brougham. He wants to talk to you.’

‘OK.’ Gina’s stomach lurched. More questions.

The door opened and Rick’s mother walked in. When she saw the two of them sitting there, her eyes shone bright with interest. ‘Rick, you’re home now. We weren’t expecting you.’

‘Just a quick visit,’ he explained. ‘We were passing, so we stopped in for a quick bite to eat.’ Rick got up immediately, put his arm around his mother and gave her a quick hug. As they drew apart, he
introduced Gina.

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ said Mrs Caruso, with a warm smile.

Gina took in the woman in front of her. She was attractive with fine features, in her early sixties with grey peppered hair. Her figure was full giving her a homely look.

‘I hope Rick put plenty of food on the table,’ she added.

‘Thank you. He did. I couldn’t eat another morsel if I tried.’

Rick lifted the dishes into the sink. ‘It’s time we were on our way. Sorry, but I’ll have to skip the washing-up this time. We’ve got an appointment to keep.’

His mother turned to Gina, her hands on rounded hips. ‘Hmm, excuses. Now isn’t that just like a man? Leave the dishes for the woman to do.’

Gina rose to her feet. ‘Surely our appointment can wait. Perhaps I can help you, Mrs Caruso. It won’t take long to wash these.’

‘Gina, we need to get going,’ reminded Rick.

Rick’s mother smiled. ‘Thank you for the offer, but it really is OK.’ She turned to face Rick ‘You’ll have to bring Gina back again sometime. Perhaps for a meal.’

‘Maybe.’ His tone was dismissive inferring he wouldn’t be bringing her back any time soon.

Gina ignored his rudeness. ‘I’d love to come back, Mrs Caruso, whether Rick brings me or not.’

Surprise crossed Rick’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He opened the door, and then turned to his mother. ‘
Ciao
.’