No Time For Love

by Tina Radcliffe

  “You could let the doctor tell you and we’d know for sure.”

  “I don’t want to know ahead of time. Where’s the fun in that?” She moved to their kitchen stove and stirred the big pot of sauce with a wooden spoon.

  “And if it’s a girl?”

  “Josephine, of course. We’ll call her Josie for short.”

  “You’re sort of bossy,” he returned.

  “I learned from the best.” She opened the kitchen drawer and pulled out a spoon. “Taste and tell me how I did.”

  Steve took the spoon from her and dipped into in the pot of velvety red sauce. He carefully blew on the liquid and then tasted. Rich tomato and bay leaf came alive in his mouth. She’d done it. His mother would be proud.

  His thumb and index finger came together and he swept his hand in front of him. “Perfecto!”

  “I love you,” Nicki said.

  “I love you too, Nicki Baldwin Chasen. Forever.”

  The End

  Josephine’s Eggplant Parmigiana

  Josephine’s Eggplant Parmigiana

  1 large eggplant

  Salt & pepper

  Vegetable oil

  2 eggs

  Italian bread crumbs

  Homemade spaghetti sauce

  Freshly grated Parmesan cheese

  Peel eggplant. Slice thin, about ¼ inch. Layer in a colander and salt. Set aside for an hour. Squeeze to remove water.

  Scramble eggs and add salt and pepper to taste. Dip eggplant in egg mixture and then in bread crumbs.

  Fry each side of eggplant in hot oiled frying pan until lightly browned. Line a casserole with a layer of eggplant. Spread with sauce and sprinkle with cheese. Continue the layers until all the eggplant is used. Bake in a 375 degree oven until cheese melts.

  The Rosetti Curse

  A Romantic Comedy of Italian Proportions…

  She may look good in black, but Tessa Rosetti is not testing the family curse again. Three generations of women have already buried the men they love and confirmed Tessa’s belief in the Rosetti Curse.

  Los Angeles cop Thomas Riley arrives back home in Silver Ridge, Colorado, to settle his grandmother’s estate, but while he's there, he stumbles into trouble in the night. If his suspicions are correct, someone's cooking up more than biscotti at the local cookie factory.

  Together, Riley and Tessa renew their old bond and battle a curse that leads them on a journey of destiny to the love of a lifetime.

  “The Sopranos meets Fried Green Tomatoes. Loved this book!” Sharon Sala

  Copyright © 2016 Tina Radcliffe

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  “Mrs. Riley?”

  Tessa Rosetti glanced around the empty hospital corridor. The nurse was speaking to her? “I’m not—”

  “Dear, you can go in now.”

  She tossed the dregs of her coffee and followed the nurse’s squeaky footsteps down the hall.

  An IV pump winked, its green light pulsing as Tessa entered the dimly lit room. She sank into a chair at the foot of the bed and watched him sleep. Dark and tan against white sheets, he rested on his back. A butterfly bandage stood out above his right brow, and most of his right cheekbone was puffed, sporting a violet bruise. Abrasions decorated both arms. His hands were folded as if in prayer.

  Behind her, the wall clock ticked a solemn accompaniment to the background noise of a hospital room at four in the morning.

  Tessa inhaled. The familiar perfume of antiseptic mingled with disinfectant tickled her nose. Sometimes she thought the scent was infused permanently into her skin. She released a small smile at the bitter irony. Two months ago she had come home to Silver Ridge, Colorado to escape hospitals.

  He shifted, drawing her attention back to him.

  “It’s not polite to stare,” he said. His eyelids flickered open to reveal the intense green eyes of Thomas Joseph Riley. With one cocky grin, the years melted away.

  “I was not staring.” She stood and crossed her arms, her only defense against the confusing tumble of emotions.

  “Tessa.”

  Nothing had changed. All he had to do was utter her name, and she was lost. “Riley, what happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. And why does the hospital think I’m your wife?”

  He released a half laugh, raising his head enough to assess her from head to toe. “You look good, Tessa. Really good. I like the dress.” With a grimace, he fell back against the pillows.

  Tessa glanced down at the rumpled coral linen. The sheath had been crisply pressed for her mother’s wedding yesterday afternoon, but by the time the reception had wound down, the fabric looked as limp as she felt.

  She inched toward the head of the bed, reining in her irritation. After all these years, why did Riley’s opinion still matter?

  “Look, I’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours,” Tessa said. “Perhaps you could humor me and tell me what’s going on.”

  “Cranky, huh?”

  “Cranky?” She sucked in her breath. “That’s it, pal. This marriage is over.”

  No sooner had she turned from the bed than she was tugged back by his hand on her wrist. Solid strength from a man who looked like he’d been kicked into next Tuesday. “Hey, hey. Not so fast. I’m sorry.”

  Tessa softened a fraction. “Riley, what happened to you? Is this another one of your escapades gone wrong?”

  “No. This time it wasn’t my fault.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Honest.” He paused. “I need your help to get discharged.”

  “Discharged? What are you thinking? I mean, look at you.”

  “Hey, I only look half-dead.”

  Tessa slipped her wrist from his grip, unable to concentrate while his thumb made slow forays across her skin. “I haven’t talked to you in what, twelve years? Suddenly, you show up on a gurney in the middle of the night, and I’m the gal you pick to get you discharged?” She stood back, distancing herself from his touch.

  “Come on, Tess. Please. I hate hospitals. Nothing good ever happens in a hospital.”

  “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” he asked.

  “You know what. Do not flash those puppy dog eyes at me. It didn’t work when we were sixteen, and it’s not going to work now.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, it worked when we were sixteen.”

  Tessa could only glare in response. His teasing smile didn’t fool her.

  They’d known each other most of their lives, but Tessa Rosetti would always be the girl across the street to Riley. There had never been anything but friendship between them.

  She had never forgiven him for that.

  “How about we start at the beginning?”

  “Sure, but hurry. The leg’s starting to throb.”

  Tessa assessed the cast peeking out from under the covers. Without thinking, she shifted the ice pack and rearranged the pillows beneath his right leg.

  “Thanks,” Riley said.

  “Maybe you could tell me what you’re doing in town?”

  “I was invited to the wedding.”

  “You’re late.”

  “Fuel pump issues.” He shook his head. “Anyhow, I figured as long as I’m in town, I’ll take care of my grandmother’s house.”

  Tessa cringed, immediately repentant. After all, she had been nearly as close to Nana Marconi as he was. Her sudden death six months ago had taken them all by surprise. “Oh, Riley. I’m so sorry about your grandmother.”

  “She got to see the old country. We talked the day she died.” He stared at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. “Never heard her so happy.”

  “You should
be proud. It was your grandmother’s dream to go to back to Sicily, and you made it happen.”

  He shrugged off the compliment. “You know, I did tell Grandma Rosetti I was going to be late today.”

  “You spoke with my grandmother?”

  “Well, yeah. She didn’t tell you?” Shifting in the bed again, Riley winced.

  “No, she didn’t.” Tessa paused. “So are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “I got into town around midnight and drove out by that new biscotti factory. There was an explosion.” He cleared his throat. “I got in the way.”

  “An explosion?” Tessa finally got the words out. Her stomach took an immediate hit, and her legs began to buckle. She reached out to grab the bed rail.

  The curse.

  Only twelve hours ago her mother had married Frank Lorenza, the biscotti king of Silver Ridge. The man who owned that factory.

  Riley turned his head a fraction and frowned. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear the explosion.”

  “The reception was at the Knights of Columbus, between Silver Ridge and Fairville. It was the only place large enough to hold most of the town.”

  “The entire town was there?”

  “Our bakery has been in Silver Ridge for over seventy years. We pretty much had to invite the whole town to the reception.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Around midnight we were singing and dancing the Tarantella to a stirring performance by Joey and the Dough Boys.”

  “Some party.”

  “You have no idea. The champagne fountain was sucked completely dry, and we went through fifty-four of my grandmother’s cheesecakes.”

  He released a mournful sigh. “I missed cheesecake.”

  “I’ll get you a cheesecake. Just tell me how you ended up in the middle of an explosion.”

  “That part is still sort of fuzzy.”

  Tessa nibbled her lip as she tried to put the pieces of what he’d told her together. She walked to the window and back, and then looked up.

  Riley raised a brow.

  “We’ve got to notify the police,” Tessa said.

  “They were here. Apparently, this is the most excitement the Silver Ridge Police Department has had in years.”

  “Chickie was here?” She tried to focus, her mind still reeling. “I didn’t see him in the waiting room.”

  “He came right into x-ray. Said he’d be back for an official report tomorrow.” Riley shook his head. “I’ve spent the last few hours trying to understand how Chick Pollero could have ended up as sheriff.”

  “He’s not really sheriff,” she said.

  “I’m not following.”

  “We’re temporarily without a sheriff. Chickie happens to be senior deputy.”

  “Does he always wear those goofy suspenders with his uniform?”

  “Good old Chick.” Tessa gave a weak laugh. “Always on the cutting edge.”

  “The guys back at the precinct are not going to believe this one.”

  Tessa tried to keep up with the thread of the conversation while her mind remained fixed on the factory. “That’s right. You’re a cop now.”

  “Detective. I’m a detective. Big surprise, huh?”

  “Well, I...” Heat infused her face.

  “It’s okay,” Riley said. “You aren’t the first person to guess I’d be on the other side of the bars.”

  “It’s not like I thought you were going to end up a career criminal.”

  “No?”

  “You’re so wrong. I believed in you, Riley.”

  “That makes two of you.”

  “Two of us?”

  “Yeah, you and my grandmother.”

  Tessa stared at him for a moment. “By the way, how did the hospital know how to reach me?”

  “I gave them your number.”

  “You have my phone number?”

  He nodded, gritting his teeth as he released a low moan. “Sorry. The leg.”

  She reached for the call button. A voice came over the intercom, and Tessa requested his pain medication using a crisp, professional tone.

  “You sound like a nurse.”

  “That would be because I am a nurse.”

  “Exactly what I’m counting on. You’re my ticket out of this place.”

  “Is that the only reason you wanted me here? To spring you?”

  “No. I wanted to see you. In fact, I planned to see you this trip. Though this wasn’t quite how I imagined the reunion of two old friends.”

  Two old friends. Why should that surprise her?

  A heavy knock preceded a large, broad-shouldered nurse. “I see you found your wife, Thomas.”

  “I am not his wife,” Tessa said. Her words were lost as the nurse let down the bed rail with a squeaky clatter.

  “Riley. It’s Riley,” he corrected.

  “Roll on your side, Riley, and pucker up.”

  Tessa covered her mouth with a hand, feigning interest in the IV pump.

  “It’s not funny,” he said. “And don’t look.”

  Tessa kept her eyes averted.

  Riley let out a yelp. “Think that needle was long enough?”

  The nurse merely grinned. She deposited the needle into the sharps container on the wall and left the room.

  “I gotta get out of this place,” he muttered.

  “Why did you tell the staff I’m your wife?” Tessa asked.

  Brow furrowed, he looked at her. “Huh?”

  “Why did you say I’m your wife?”

  “Visiting hours are over. They weren’t going to let you in unless you were immediate family.”

  “I’m touched, but you could have said I was your sister.”

  “I’m lying close to death, and you’re arguing semantics?”

  Tessa bit her lip and sighed long and hard. Married and close to death? Well, he wouldn’t be so cavalier about semantics if he really understood the curse that was following her around. Of course, the Rosetti curse had always been a big joke to Riley.

  “You know, Tessa, you are all the family I have.”

  “Don’t even go there,” Tessa groaned.

  He ignored her objection. “There are a few things I need you to take care of until I’m discharged tomorrow.”

  “If they discharge you.”

  “Oh, I’m getting out of here. One way or another.” His gaze skimmed the room, and he shivered. “I can’t stay here. Besides, I’ve got stuff to do. I’m on a tight schedule. I have to be back in L.A. by the end of the month. I’ll be a desk jockey, but I still have to get back.”

  “That’s three weeks away, Riley. You can’t even drive a car with that cast.”

  “Then I guess I’ll need a little help, won’t I?”

  “A little help?”

  “For starters, my cell is dead. Could you find my charger? It’s in my car. Try the duffle bag.” He looked around the hospital room. “The keys are here somewhere. But you have to promise me you’ll be really careful with the Porsche.”

  “Are you giving me a list?” Her voice rose with indignation. Tessa paused, her thoughts backtracking. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You still haven’t explained what you were doing at the factory in the middle of the night.”

  “I’d already missed the wedding and the reception, so I was driving around town. You know, reminiscing.”

  “All the way out on Lender Lane?”

  “Hey, they’re my memories.”

  “What time did you say that was?” she asked.

  “Twelve. Twelve-thirty.” His eyelids drooped. “Listen, officer, could you maybe interrogate me tomorrow?”

  “It is tomorrow.” Tessa paced, wishing she wasn’t so tired herself. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s take this one step at a time. Here’s the deal—”

  “Ah...” His lips twitched. “Still making deals?”

  “If I recall, you were the one who was always making the deals.”

  His eyes drifted shut, amusement lifting the corners of his mouth.

&n
bsp; “Get some sleep, Riley. I’ll come back later, and we’ll see what your doctor says.”

  Riley’s eyes popped open. “You know, you were a whole lot more cooperative when we were kids.”

  Tessa walked back to the bed and poked a finger at his chest. "We aren’t kids anymore.” She turned to leave.

  “Tessa?”

  She looked back. “Yes?”

  “Thanks.” His words slowed as the pain medication took effect, but his piercing green eyes were steady as they locked on her. “For coming in. Waiting. You’re still a good friend.”

  Her chest constricted. Without hesitation, she reached for his hand. Warm and strong, his fingers gripped hers, and he returned a reassuring squeeze.

  “Promise me one thing,” she said.

  “Sure.” He was losing the battle. Thick dark lashes rested on his tanned face.

  “You have to stop telling people we’re married,” Tessa said softly.

  Riley opened one eye.

  “You may not believe this, but your life depends on it.”

  Tessa parked in the driveway. Resting her head against the seat, she stared at her grandmother’s house. Three generations of Rosetti women had found solace in the old Victorian.

  Across the street stood the brick Craftsman style Marconi home, empty for sixth months now. When Sophia Marconi died of a heart attack while traveling through Italy, the house was bequeathed to her only grandchild, Thomas Riley.

  Exhaustion dogged Tessa as she walked up the front steps to the porch of her grandmother’s home. The drive to Tri-County Hospital from the tiny town of Silver Ridge took forty-five minutes each way. The September sun was shining, and Tessa hadn’t even been to bed.

  Her emotional backpack was wide open after seeing Riley. Open and a mess. How was it they fell back into their old camaraderie so easily?

  “Ciao, bella. How is Riley?”

  Tessa jumped. Seated on a wicker settee in the corner of the huge porch was her grandmother, the widowed Carmen Rosetti. A tiny woman, her feet failed to touch the ground. For over sixty years she had been wearing a variation of the perpetual mourning outfit. Today, it was a black skirt and white blouse with a black-crocheted sweater resting on her petite shoulders. The only concession to color was a pair of neon blue Nikes. Nonna believed in comfort.