Chasing Rome: A Novel By John Gray CHAPTER 1 You Take the Biscuit There are more than six thousand languages spoken in the world and Chase Harrington was proficient in exactly one: English. Yet, no translation was needed to understand the snarky look she was getting from the neatly dressed barista at the Sciascia Caffè in the Prati neighborhood of Rome. Chase and her fiancé, Gavin, boarded a flight out of JFK the evening before, just as Jeopardy was coming on the television at the airport bar. After nine sleepless hours on the plane, a six-hour time change, and a bumpy cab ride into Italy''s capital city, she needed an immediate influx of caffeine to make this day possible. It was two in the afternoon on a crisp December day when faded brown floorboards that no doubt had been cut and nailed in place more than a century ago were creaking and whispering secrets under Chase''s light feet. She noticed, the moment she walked in, that this coffee house was nicer than the ones back home, with its ornate wood molding, an exposed brick wall, and large chunky furniture that dared you to sit. "Did I pronounce it wrong? Do you call a cappuccino something else here?" Chase asked politely. The barista remained still as a statue, his frozen gaze fixed on Chase''s lovely, albeit tired face.
Just then, a different voice chimed in, "He won''t give it to you, luv." The words, in an alluring accent, came from an attractive young woman with long red hair who was seated at a small table to Chase''s left. Chase turned to the lady with the charming brogue and asked, "Why not?" The redhead put her newspaper down now and replied, "Cappuccino is never served this late in the day in Rome. Better to get a coffee." Before Chase could change her order, the front door to the café flung open and a tall, handsome man stepped halfway in. "Are you good, babe?" he said, turning every head in the place. It was Chase''s fiancé, Gavin Bennett, holding a brown leather leash that led to her Australian shepherd, Scooter. "Yes," Chase replied, a bit flustered.
"Just trying to get the hang of ordering something to drink in Italy. We''ve been here less than an hour and I''ve already broken a rule." She could see Gavin''s confusion but waved him away with her hand, saying, "I''m fine. Be right out." Gavin flashed that broad, disarming smile and replied, "Sounds good. Hey, can you grab me a coffee, hon?" Chase turned back to the waiting barista and said, "Forget the cappuccino. Two coffees, please." The man immediately smiled, then turned his back to Chase and got busy working at a large silver machine with enough shiny knobs to launch a space satellite.
There were hissing and banging noises that for some reason reminded Chase of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The Oompa Loompa spun back around and placed two small cups on the counter in front of Chase. "Here we are, that is two euros," the barista said in perfect English. "Oh, so we do speak American, eh?" Chase said with a hint of mischief in her voice. The barista didn''t crack a smile but gave Chase a quick wink with his right eye. Chase reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a fistful of strange-looking coins and currency. "They gave me this at the exchange counter after we landed," she said, hoping the man in the apron could offer some assistance. Chase looked at the redhead, who was enjoying the show from her table, and said, "I''m a shopkeeper''s dream, the silly American who doesn''t know what anything costs and will probably pay fifty bucks for a drink.
" The woman replied, "Not to worry, Antonio is very honest." Chase looked back to the barista and said, "So, you''re Antonio. Nice to meet you." The barista plucked coins from her open hands and said to Chase, "These are each worth one euro. I''m taking two." Chase smiled, answering, "Thank you, Antonio. Let me give you a tip." The barista stepped back as if she had offered him poison, raising both hands in front of him.
"Not allowed," he said firmly. Chase, then mumbling to herself, "Wow, okay. So, no cappuccino after noon and no tipping, got it." As Chase was about to go outside with her two coffees, she turned to the redhead and said, "Thank you for the help earlier. I''m Chase." The woman, wearing a white knit sweater and jeans, rose from her seat and extended her hand to shake, answering, "Riley, and you''re welcome, luv." Chase smiled, asking, "Is that an Irish or Scottish accent?" Riley feigned a shocked expression and raising her voice, "Oh, St. Francis on a bicycle, my poor granda must be spinning in his grave back in County Cork.
That''s Ireland, dear." "Gran-what?" Chase replied. "Da, Gran-Da, that''s my grandfather," Riley explained. Chase nodded, "Gotcha. Well, I love the accent and your name, very pretty." Riley folded her arms and replied, "You wouldn''t think so if you knew the rest of it." Chase had to ask, "The rest?" "O''Reilly, is me last name, believe it or not, as you Americans say." Chase trying not to smile, then said, "So, your name is Riley O''Reilly?" "It''s worse than that," she answered.
"My full name is Ophelia Riley O''Reilly." Chase chuckled, then said, "So, if we use your first initial?" "That''s right," she replied. "My name is O. Riley O''Reilly. My da had a sense of humor." The thought of it made both women share a laugh. Chase liked this stranger and smiled warmly, saying, "I have to run, but it was really nice meeting you, Riley." Just then the door opened, and Gavin poked his head back in again.
"Not to be a bug, but it''s chilly out here." Chase set down the coffees, ran to the door, and grabbed Gavin by the hand. "This is my fiancé, Gavin. And Gavin, this is Riley." Gavin extended his hand to shake hers, saying to Chase, "We just landed and you''re already making friends." Riley grasped Gavin''s hand with both of hers and exclaimed, "Stop it, now. I''ve seen some dingers in my day, but you take the biscuit." Gavin couldn''t help but laugh out loud, "I''m sorry.
What?" "The biscuit, what you''d call the cake," Riley explained, adding, "And dinger means good-looking." Chase intervened, saying, "I think she''s calling you a stud muffin, babe." Riley laughed and replied, "I don''t know that expression, but she sounds about right." Riley''s eyes then darted down to the floor looking at Chase''s dog. "And who have we here? Is he Irish? He looks a wee bit Irish." Gavin answered, "Australian, actually. His name is Scooter." Riley bent down on one knee to see the pup''s face and rub his head, saying, "Sorry your gal is leaving you out in the cold, Scooter.
I could talk the hind leg off a donkey if you let me." Gavin looked at Chase, then whispered, "A donkey?" Riley rose and looked at the happy couple, explaining, "Old Irish saying. Just means I''m a chatterbox." Gavin picked up the small drinks Chase had just purchased, asking, "What''s this?" The cups were much smaller than a normal cup of coffee and filled with a dark black liquid. Riley, again in her thick Irish accent, explained: "I saw the whole thing, Gavin. She tried, but ordering drinks in Italy can be a bit tricky if you don''t know the lingo." Gavin and Chase just stared at Riley, enjoying her accent and personality. Riley continued.
"Here you can only get cappuccino in the morning, and if you ask for coffee you get espresso." Chase looked at Gavin and said sarcastically, "You read ten books on life in Italy and somehow you missed that chapter?" Riley poked her red head in between them and whispered, "What you want to order is a Caffè Americano." "And that''s coffee?" Gavin asked. "Not exactly," Riley answered. "But close." Gavin looked at his watch. "Hon, we should, you know?"