Page 60 of Red Hot Roaster

She giggled again. I loved it when I could make her laugh these days.

Vera ambled up to take our order. We decided on Manhattans—no surprise there. She headed back to the bar, and we got down to business.

“So, Rafe’s uncle. Spill,” I urged.

Of course, Lauren had to drag out the suspense.

“You remember I was trying to narrow down that list of Amato men in the Bay area by searching Facebook and Instagram—right?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” There was no hurrying her at this point. I didn’t know why I was even trying.

“Epic failure, as we expected.” She started laughing, although I didn’t see the humor. “The only guys I found with the surname of Amato looked like they were in their twenties. Not nearly old enough to be Rafe’s uncle.”

I frowned. “Well, then. Doggone it. So much for my idea….”

“Until.…” Lauren grinned big time.

“Until?”

“Until I got smart. Lucky, really. I saw a post from one of the guys, with a ‘like’ and a comment from a woman…”

She paused. Aaand I was having second thoughts about her moving up here.

“…by the name of Angelina.”

Lauren must have seen something on my face because she reached over and grabbed my hand.

“Oh, girl, it gets better.”

My face scrunched up. I pressed my knuckles below my eyes to blot the sudden tears. Of course, our drinks arrived at that critical moment. I stared down at my lap while Vera unloaded her tray. We murmured our thanks, and she left.

When I looked up, Lauren had pulled out her phone and sat it face down between us.

“First, Rose,” she said, raising her Manhattan, “a toast to the good luck we both deserve.”

We clinked our glasses and tossed off healthy doses. Then she flipped over her phone and tapped her way to a screen.

“I linked to her page, and our girl Angelina seems to post her entire life on Instagram. Including these pics from a recent birthday party for her dad.” Lauren pushed her phone over in front of me.

I was looking at Rafe. Rafe, ten or fifteen years older. But Rafe.

Yeah, his uncle had longer hair, more pounds, deeper wrinkles on his smiling face. Even so, the strong family resemblance was there. Angelina’s brother and another younger guy, all crowded close for a group photo, had it too. The Amato men “look.”

My tears escaped, sliding down my face. Lauren reached around me and hugged me tight.

“When are you going to tell him, Rose?” she said softly.

“I’m not,” I breathed out. “At least, not right away.”

“Okaaay…. Help me understand here. You’ve found Rafe’s lost family—his uncle, his cousins, maybe more relatives. You don’t want to pass on the good news to him?”

I swallowed around the big lump in my throat. “He doesn’t know we’ve been searching, right?”

“Right. You wanted to keep it secret in case nothing panned out.”

“There’s another reason. He’s so…private, so…reserved in many ways.”

“Reserved? Really? That’s not what you said when we talked earlier.” Lauren gave me an exaggerated wink.

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