Poker Face: A Small Town Romance (The Beaufort Poker Club Book 1)

by Maggie Gates

  I finally bit the bullet and hired a business manager for Revanche. Really, I just needed someone to be my eyes and ears and be a mediator between Scott, Carol, and Maddie if the need arose—not that I thought it would. The three of them ran a well oiled machine, but I didn’t want it to look like I was playing favorites with Maddie. A third-party manager was a good safety net, I decided.

  Maddie didn’t seem thrown off by it. Then again, she probably had the poor guy shaking in his boots. Maddie could be downright terrifying when she wanted to be. Underneath all that sunshine and southern hospitality, she was a shark.

  I passed through New Bern and Havelock and by the time I rolled into Morehead City, there was a smile on my face for the first time in weeks. Just as I got into town, my phone rang.

  “DeRossi.”

  “Mr. DeRossi, this is Linda from Harlowe Bay Assisted Living.”

  I shifted my grip on the steering wheel and prepared to yank this thing over the median to turn around. “Yes, ma’am—what can I do for you?”

  “Well, you remember that conversation we had a few weeks back when you came to visit with Maddie and you slipped away and asked me if I could give you a call when Mrs. Dorsey was havin’ a good day and I said that I couldn’t give you that sort of information because of privacy laws and such?”

  “Yes, ma’am—I do,” I said. After the first time Maddie brought me to meet her mom, I had quietly talked to Linda while Maddie used the restroom before we left. I wanted to visit Maddie’s mom and talk to her when she was having a good day, but I didn’t exactly want to upset Maddie with the request, especially after that visit had ended.

  “Well, this is me reminding you that I cannot tell you whether someone’s havin’ a good day or a bad day, but if you wanted to drop by and maybe spend some time yourself with some of our residents, I’m sure they’d appreciate the company.”

  I eyed the yellow light and floored it, cutting through some backroads that I knew led back to the side of town the assisted living facility was on. I was proud of myself for learning the layout of the coast in such a brief time. Especially when I was used to being chauffeured by a driver.

  I thanked Linda and hung up before I got in a car wreck. I strangled the steering wheel with a relentless grip as I swerved into the parking lot in record time. Before I signed in at the front desk, I stole away to the men’s room to splash some cold water on my face. I hadn’t exactly planned on doing this today, but if it was my only shot, I was going to give it my best.

  I knocked on Maddie’s mom’s door and poked my head in. “Mrs. Dorsey, is it alright if I come in for a few minutes?”

  Martha Ann Dorsey peered over her knitting basket and eyed me from across the room. “Well, that depends. Can you unravel my yarn for me?”

  I cracked a smile and eased in. “Yes, ma’am.” I pointed to the chair beside her recliner where Maddie would sit. “Mind if I sit beside you?”

  “Have at it, handsome,” she said as she handed me a skein of black yarn. “This one’s gonna be for my Maddie Lee. Black’s her favorite color, though I don’t know why.” She tut-tutted quietly and shook her head. “She doesn’t like wearing hats in the winter because her darn hair’s so big, so I make her toboggans with a hole in the top so she can pull it over her big ol’ bun.”

  I chuckled quietly and worked to unravel the yarn the same way Maddie had. “I think she’ll look real nice in it.” Thinking about Maddie all bundled up like a beach Eskimo with a wind-nipped nose kissed in pink had me staving off a hard-on. She’d look so fucking cute. I cleared my throat. I didn’t really know the best way to get at what I needed to talk to her about. I didn’t even know if she knew who I was. “I, uh, I should have introduced myself. My name’s Luca—”

  “Luca DeRossi. I know who you are. You think I’d let a stranger in here?” Martha’s thin lips twisted up in the same amused smile that Maddie’s did. “I didn’t let you in here on your looks alone, sugar. My Maddie Lee’s told me all about you.” She pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at the nightstand where a picture frame sat. I leaned over and picked it up. Maddie had printed out a picture of the two of us on the red carpet outside of the James Beard Awards and framed it for her mom. I didn’t realize how long I’d been staring at the photo until Mrs. Dorsey piped up and said, “Looks like love to me.”

  I set the photo back on the nightstand and made sure it was at just the right angle for her to see it from the bed. “I do. I love your daughter. A lot.”

  Her knitting needles stilled, and she patted my arm as I sat back down beside her. “I can tell. She’s never brought anyone with her when she comes to visit before.”

  “You remember me coming to visit?”

  A faint sadness washed over her face, like a wave lapping at the shore. It was so brief that if I hadn’t been looking at her directly, I would have missed it. “I don’t,” she clipped. “But Maddie told me that she brought you by a few weeks ago and that you’ve been travelin’ for work since then.”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Martha waved her hand dismissively and went back to her knitting. “So, tell me, sugar—what brings you by today? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on those strong shoulders of yours. Take a load off, sweetie.”

  I grinned as I worked at the yarn in my hands. “I came to talk about Maddie, actually.”

  “Mmm,” she hummed. “I thought that much. I don’t mind you coming to visit me just to talk about my daughter. You’re sure nicer looking than the fellas from the Methodist church that come around to visit all of us. Tell me, what’s on your mind?”

  “I want to marry her.” The words slipped out much easier than I thought they would. It was the first time I said them out loud. My palms became clammy and a trickle of sweat beaded down the back of my neck into my button-up shirt.

  Mrs. Dorsey snickered as she worked her way around the half-finished hat. “Sweetheart, let me tell you something. If you’ve come to ask my permission—you’re not getting it. My Maddie Lee doesn’t need her momma’s permission for anything. If you think you can put up with that girl for the rest of her life, then best of luck to ya. She’s a damn handful. You’ll need luck and prayers and a genie in a lamp to handle my Maddie.”

  A deep laugh ripped out of my throat. That certainly wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Truthfully, I wasn’t asking for permission. Maddie and I were grown adults, and it was up to us whether we wanted to promise ‘til death do us part. Mrs. Dorsey’s response caught me off guard, but it left no doubt in my mind that she and Maddie were kin. It was a miracle Beaufort had survived the two of them raising hell all these years.

  I held the ball of yarn in my hands and stared down at the sterile tile floor. “I just wanted to tell you how much I love her. And that I’ll do whatever it takes to give her everything.”

  There was a little table on the other side of Mrs. Dorsey’s recliner. She pulled out a drawer and lifted a small photo album out. She put her knitting needles and the yarn I had been working on back in a basket and set it aside. “Look here, hon,” she said as she opened the photo album.

  Pictures filled up every single page. Each one was labeled in Maddie’s crisp handwriting, describing who was in the photo, where it was taken, and when. Most of them were recent. To my surprise, I was in a lot of them. Maddie had even printed screenshots of me judging her work during Pastry Throwdown.

  The label read, “My boyfriend, Luca DeRossi, judging my desserts for a TV competition. He was an asshole, but it’s okay now. I love him.”

  Mrs. Dorsey turned the page. There were pictures of the two of us out on a rock jetty right off the coast. She had taken me to see Fort Macon. After learning all about the history of the fort being built to keep the coast safe from pirates or invaders, we went on a walk down the beach and out onto a long jetty that sluiced into the ocean.

  “Maddie Lee put it together to help me remember everyone. I look through it every day.” She pointed to the photo where
Maddie was taking a selfie with me, but I was looking at her. The corner of Mrs. Dorsey’s mouth quivered and she clasped her hands around mine. “I don’t remember much these days, and I probably won’t remember you or Maddie next time you come by, but I do remember what it looks like to be in love.” Her wrinkled finger pointed at my face in the photo. She tapped twice to make her point clear. “That’s love, sugar. The way you’re looking at my Maddie—that’s the kinda love that sticks no matter what.” She peeled back the plastic cover, took the photo out, and held it in her hand. “On the bad days when I don’t remember much, I still remember what love feels like—how wonderful it is. Even on those days, I still remember to thank the good Lord that my Maddie found it.”

  I sat there in silence, dumbfounded. Mrs. Dorsey put the picture back in the photo album and closed it up. She tucked it away in the drawer and turned back to me. I leaned back in the chair and let out a billowing breath.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she snickered. “Bring me that little box on top of the dresser, will you?” I did as she told me and brought her what looked to be a jewelry box. I sat back down as she opened it up and pulled out a little velvet case. “You still have to convince that crazy girl to marry you, but I think I have something that might just help your case.” Mrs. Dorsey popped open the square box and handed it to me. “I know a fella like you could buy her a big ol’ hunk of a ring if you wanted to, but that one there was her grandmama’s, and for a minute—mine. Only seems right that it goes on to my Maddie.”

  I had been planning a trip to a jeweler when I went back to New York, but this ring was perfect. It looked vintage—almost art deco. It had a large oval cut diamond set on a thin, white gold band. Smaller marquise diamonds circled the center stone and jutted out like an exploding firework. It was brilliant.

  “She’ll love it,” I choked out as I closed the box and held it in my hand. “I know she will.”

  “One more thing, sugar,” she said as she pulled a wrinkled envelope out of the box. “Give this to her after you pop the question, will you?”

  Madeline Lee Dorsey was written in perfect cursive on the back of the envelope. I slid it into the inner pocket of my suit jacket for safekeeping. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to check it. Three missed calls from Astrid and four from the general manager of my restaurant in Los Angeles. Fuck.

  I flicked through the most recent all-caps text message from Astrid and catalogued the highlights: sexual harassment lawsuit against the executive chef at my L.A. restaurant. Damage control needed. Chartered flight out of New Bern leaving in an hour. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  New Bern was forty-five minutes away. I glanced at the time and realized there was no way I could see Maddie and make the flight. I fired off a text letting Astrid know I was on my way to the airstrip, and promised Mrs. Dorsey I would give Maddie the letter—and that I’d come back to visit soon. Hopefully, as her future son-in-law.

  Rushing toward the exit, I thanked Linda for the courtesy call. “Next time you eat at Revanche, it’s on the house.”

  Jogging out to my car, I pressed the phone to my ear and prayed that Maddie would answer as I jumped behind the wheel.

  “This is Maddie! If I didn’t pick up, it’s probably because I’m working and you should know better than to call! Text me instead!”

  “Dammit!” I slammed my phone into the dash. Running a hand through my hair, I breathed out slowly to calm down before texting Maddie.

  Luca: Wasn’t able to make it back. Crisis in L.A. Flying out in an hour. Call me when you can. Love you, Tesoro.

  38

  ———

  MADELINE

  This isn’t happening.

  I stared at the text, ready to call Luca back, but I was frozen in place. He didn’t come back. He fucking turned around and left. Hurt and anger bubbled up in my gut as the lump in my throat expanded.

  I looked at the happy couple across the table from me and politely smiled, “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I’ll go and print off that contract with the invoice details and we’ll get y’all squared away.”

  Hurrying toward Luca’s office, I prayed that it was empty. The new business manager—the one I ignored most of the time—had taken it over. No more stolen kisses when I ran upstairs for something. No more flirtatious advances when we were supposed to be talking about scheduling, payroll, and hiring. No more sneaking off for a quickie while the rest of the staff ate at the family meal after dinner service was done.

  Luckily, the office was empty. I closed the door and printed off the paperwork I needed my clients to fill out to book their wedding cake. The printer whirred to life, and for once, I prayed for a paper jam—anything to give me a few more minutes of privacy. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I sniffed them back. I hadn’t seen him in almost a month now, and he was leaving again without so much as a hello or a kiss on the cheek? Had he even made it back to Beaufort before he left again?

  Is this what the future looked like?

  The printer spat out an extra page. I went to toss it in the trash when something in the bin caught my eye. I pulled out what looked to be a thank you card and flipped it open to read the message.

  Luca,

  Thanks for meeting me so last minute. I love the new house. Hopefully, I can come by again sometime. Can’t wait to see you soon. -Celeste

  No.

  No, no, no.

  No way this was happening. My heart raced and my pulse cranked up to a drumroll. I dropped the card as if it had burned me, and it landed back in the trash. Luca had barely been at his new house since he bought it. We had only spent a handful of nights there before he left for Texas, and—supposedly—he hadn’t been back since.

  When the hell did he sneak off to meet Celeste Montgomery there? The reasonable adult in me knew I should call him as soon as my cake tasting was over, but the southern girl in me was fixing to tan his hide.

  I went through the motions of booking the couple and sending them on their merry way before emptying my locker, leaving my chef whites in the backseat of my Jeep, and stomping over to the Taylor Creek Inn.

  It was an unseasonably warm fall day, so I didn’t mind in the slightest as the sea air blew across my bare arms. The irony of my I Got a Real Good Feelin’ Something Bad About to Happen shirt wasn’t lost on me. I yanked the hair tie out of my rat’s nest of a bun and let my hair fall, shook it out, and tossed it to one side, pretending that the volume was intentional.

  The bar inside the inn looked appealing, but that wasn’t where I was headed. I rounded the front desk and gave Kristin a wave as she cut through the lobby. I pulled hard on the courtyard doors, knowing that’s where I’d find Hannah Jane.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said as she looked up from her floorplan. Tables and chairs were scattered around and she stood beside a giant stack of folded linens. “You look like I need to get a body bag.” Hannah Jane looked down at her signature stilettos and added, “Don’t worry—I have my work flats in my office. If we’re disposing of some poor, unfortunate soul who did you wrong, I’ll change in a jiffy.”

  And she wasn’t kidding. Hannah Jane might be the picture-perfect southern belle, but beneath the pearls and lace, she was full of piss and vinegar. The woman was elegant to a T, but she’d tar and feather your ass if you crossed her.

  Hannah Jane Hayes took no shit and gave no fucks. Her skin was thicker than an ornery alligator’s, and I’m pretty sure that’s what her high heels were made out of. I needed her signature no-nonsense and that’s why I’d nearly knocked over a planter, cutting through the front lawn of the inn to get here before I did something insanely rash and most likely illegal.

  “And you’re positive he hasn’t been back since he bought the house and left for that business trip to Texas?” She questioned after I explained everything from the missed call to the text message telling me he wasn’t coming back to the note from Celeste I found in the office trash can.

&nbs
p; “Positive. He hasn’t been to the restaurant. I check on the house every day, and other than Astrid’s, my alarm code is the only one that’s been used. Besides—It’s a small town. If he had been here, I would have known about it just from the gossip.”

  She tapped her perfectly manicured nails on top of a cocktail table. “Do you actually think he’d cheat? That he’s been faking everything between y’all this whole time? I mean, the man’s absolutely head over heels for you. The way he looks at you—You can’t fake that.”

  “It’s kind of hard not to think that. I mean, what other explanation is there?”

  “That he actually had a work emergency, and he actually had to turn around and leave.”

  “Why are you playing devil’s advocate here?” I snapped. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Han. If I wanted someone reasonable, I’d go talk to Mel.”

  “I’m just trying to keep you from flying off the handle and making a mistake. Mad, Luca is it for you.”

  I spun and stormed back toward the lobby. Why the ever-loving fuck was she siding with Luca on this? I heard Hannah Jane’s heels click clacking on the flat stones that filled out the courtyard, but I didn’t turn around.

  “Maddie, wait,” she snapped in her I’m the wedding planner and I’m in charge voice. “I’m not taking his side. I’m just saying that maybe you should assume the best in him before you jump to conclusions. Just call him. Ask him the tough questions, but give him a chance to explain himself.”

  I slumped against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t talk to him, Han.”

  “Well, you probably have a few hours 'till he lands in California. Go get something to eat and take a nap. You make dumb decisions when you’re tired and hangry.”

  I narrowed my eyes and stared at her through a hooded gaze. “Don’t use your bride-whisperer voice with me.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Maybe,” I grumbled.

  “Go see Bee. Get some food and then make your big life decisions.”