“Another one fall under your spell?”
Katy blinked a few times, allowing the voice to register in her memory. She turned to see David Rivera standing in the doorway. David was one of her favorite regulars. He was Sophie Rivera’s father and a good friend. She’d been trying to find just the right woman for him, but he refused to even listen. He still mourned his wife even though she’d passed over ten years ago.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Katy countered.
“How long have I been coming here?”
Katy pulled out another mug and set it on the counter. She filled it and set two creamers and a sugar packet next to the mug. “Long enough that I know exactly what you’ll order.”
David laughed and sat in the shiny red bar stool set with his morning coffee. “Yes, and that’s long enough for me to have seen how you operate.”
“I take pride in knowing what my regulars like.”
“That’s not what I meant at all. Are you really going to stand there and play completely innocent of matchmaking my girl Sophie and her fiancée, Chase?”
Katy shrugged. “I just happened to know of someone with an apartment for rent just when Sophie needed one. You know I’m well connected in this community.”
David took a sip of coffee and eyed Katy. Oh, he knew exactly what she was about, but there was no way Katy was going to admit to it. That was half the fun of Cupid’s Café. Everyone joked that love was on the menu, but she never openly admitted to her patrons that she was always on the lookout for their perfect match.
“Alright, keep your secrets.” David set his coffee mug down and looked directly into Katy’s eyes. “I’m just glad you found the perfect person for my Sophie. I’ll be forever grateful for that. You turned what should have been a travesty into finding her soul mate.”
Katy had to suck in a breath to hold back the tears. It was one thing to match couples, there was so much joy in that, but receiving such sincere appreciation from a loving father, almost melted Katy’s heart.
In acknowledgment of his gratitude, Katy admitted, “Sophie deserved the best. I’m glad she’s happy.”
David’s answering smile warmed Katy’s soul. He really is an attractive and caring man. I should work harder to find him someone special. Katy wondered if she could unwittingly enlist Sophie to move David in the right direction.
Chapter 8
Clarisse led Russel to the back door, which stood open, and held the screen door for him to pass. She led him to a shaded table and handed him the menu. “Everything’s good,” she said, setting down the mug and coffee carafe she’d brought. “Want a minute to look at the menu?”
She poured his coffee and put two disposable creamers on the table, waiting for his reply.
“Nope. I saw a guy with a waffle, and that’s what I want… and four slices of bacon… and two sausages, with hash browns and a big glass of OJ.”
“Not a problem. I’ll get your order in and be right back with the OJ.”
Clarisse sent Russel a sunny smile and bustled back to the kitchen. When Robert had the order, she filled a large glass of OJ and returned to the patio. Russel was paging through his phone messages when she returned.
Russel looked up, giving Clarisse a smile that reminded her of a big teddy bear. It made her glow with a comfortable warmth she’d never quite felt before.
“I just got a message from a guy who owns a big art gallery downtown. We’ve maintained his heating and air for a few years, and I need to go over there and check on it today to be sure it’s ready for a big show that opens tonight. Have you ever been to an art show?”
“No, I’ve always wanted to. It sounds so cultured.” Clarisse looked down at her comfortable, yet very unchic uniform and laughed. “But it’s not like I could afford real art.”
“Well, how about I take you to the opening? You can keep me company, and we can both get a bit of culture. Mike, the owner, said he like me to come and tell me what I think of the art. Why I have no idea. I wouldn’t know a Picasso from a kid’s art project. But he’s a good friend as well as a client. I should at least stop by, and with you there I’d enjoy it.”
“Well, I have to think of Tommy. This is a school night, and I’m usually there for him for dinner, and he— “
“The show doesn’t start until seven, and the opening party will go on for a couple hours after that. I could I pick you up at seven? We wouldn’t have to be out long.”
“Uh, okay, I guess that would be all right. I can get Tommy started on his homework, and see if my neighbor can check in on him.”
“Great. No bike this time, and maybe something dressy? Though, that sundress looked very pretty on you last night,” he said, grinning.
Clarisse ducked her head. She was attractive enough that she received her fair share of compliments, but Russel’s went straight to making her blush. “Let me get your breakfast. Robert should have it done by now.”
Katy was waiting for her at the kitchen door. “I see that smile. Did he ask you out again?”
“Yeah, to an art show at a gallery downtown. I’ve never been to anything as fancy as that, but hey, new experiences, right?” she said, going to get Russel’s order. “He’s going to pick me up at seven. I don’t know what kind of art we’re going to be looking at, but I hope it isn’t modern art. I just don’t get it.”
“I can’t say that I understand the meaning of circles and squiggles either, but they say that art is in the eye of the beholder.”
“True.” Clarisse hefted the tray containing Russel’s order and smiled at Katy. “You know what? I think Russel is trying to impress me.”
“Is it working?”
“I think so. We’ll have to see how tonight goes.”
When the doorbell rang promptly at seven, Tommy ran to it, yelling “I’ll get it!” before his mother could even get out of her chair.
Clarisse stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in the deep blue pantsuit she had chosen to wear. Unsure what people wore to art shows, and thinking Russel might ride his Harley after all, she had chosen the suit she had purchased to meet with her various academic advisors. She thought it looked professional, yet still had enough style that she could dress it up with the right necklace and earrings.
Tommy opened the door to Russel who stood wearing a blue blazer, an open-collared white shirt, and gray slacks. No motorcycle helmet this time, but there was a sleek looking black Camaro parked in the street. Tommy looked massively disappointed.
“Hi, Russel,” he said, peeking out the door past Russel.
“Hey, Tommy!” Russel replied. “Sorry, no bike tonight.”
Tommy sighed as if his dreams had just been shattered. Clarisse would bet a month’s pay that Tommy had planned on asking for a ride.
Russel caught Clarisse’s eye and looked her over appreciatively. “Your mother looks way too pretty tonight to get windblown.”
Clarisse felt her cheeks heat. Covering up her discomfort, she said, “Tommy, you get to bed early. Mrs. Elsmore will come by at nine to make sure you’re in bed. Remember, tomorrow’s a school day, and you get up when I do.”
She said it as much for Russel’s benefit, as Tommy’s. Being out late was not an option. She had to work tomorrow.
“Okay, Mom,” Tommy replied. “Bye, Russel,” he said as they went out. “Bye Mom.”
“See ya, Tommy,” Russel told him.
Clarisse pulled the door shut, and followed him down the steps.
“Hmmm, nice car,” she said, appreciating the curved lines of the sports car.
Russel held her door opened and offered a slight bow. “My work truck’s no place for such an elegant lady on a date, but this beauty suits you. I don’t get to take her out as much as I would like. I’m glad I have an excuse tonight.”
Russel’s outrageous compliments would be her undoing! Clarisse settled herself into the leather seat and smiled up at him. “Well, thank you, sir. This car’s as pretty as your red Harley… just a little less exciting.�
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“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve had her up to 140 on a desert road before.”
Clarisse’s face paled. Russel laughed and gently shut her door.
Chapter 9
It wasn’t far to the show, and after parking, Russel took her arm and escorted her up the steps to the front of the gallery. He pointed out the owner, Mike, who stood over in a corner with some people.
“I think Mike’s speaking to the artist,” Russel said.
The artist was an older man in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, wearing sandals on his feet. People were moving around the gallery floor, passing in and out of areas partitioned off with decorative panels hung with paintings.
Just what I was afraid of… modern art, Clarisse thought. I wonder what Russel thinks of it. I’d hate to say anything and offend him after he went to such trouble to impress me.
Dang, Russel thought, modern is my least favorite art form. I don’t see anything in it. I hope Clarisse likes it at least.
The two moved to the corner of the room, where Russel caught the owner’s eye. Mike nodded and after a few moments, excused himself from the artist and made his way toward Russel.
“Russel, good to see you. Glad you could make it!” the gallery owner said. “Have a look around, and be sure to grab something to eat and drink.”
“Sure will, Mike,” Russel told him. “Mike, this is my friend, Clarisse Wilson.”
“Nice to meet you, Clarisse. Happy to see this big bozo with someone finally. He spends too much time worrying about his business and not enough time enjoying himself.”
Russel winced. That wasn’t exactly true. He’d spent too much of his younger years partying with the wrong crowd, but Mike hadn’t known him then.
“I doubt that. Russel took me on a ride up into the hills on his Harley. It was pretty exciting,” Clarisse said, eyes sparkling with amusement.
Mike beamed at Clarisse. “Oh, he did, did he?” He slapped Russel on the shoulder. “She’s good-looking and adventurous. She’s a keeper.”
Russel agreed wholeheartedly. Clarisse was something special. I just can’t screw it up.
“Hey, Mike. Over here,” a voice called out, capturing Mike’s attention.
“Sorry. I have to constantly circulate at these functions, but it was great to meet you, Clarisse.” Mike turned to Russel and said, “Bring her by again. I like her.”
Mike slid through the crowd with the ease of someone who done it a million times, dodging people and waiters with trays piled with fancy appetizers. Russel watched him go, shaking his head. “Sorry if he embarrassed you. Mike’s a character.”
Clarisse grinned. “I liked him. How can I not when everything he said about me was complimentary?”
“True enough and he’s right. You are a keeper.”
Clarisse ducked her head, avoiding Russel’s eyes, but he took the opportunity to link her arm through his and escorted her to the buffet table set up in an adjoining room. They both took plates of hors d'oeuvres, and Clarisse picked up a glass of white wine. Russel opted for a glass of water with lemon. He wasn’t the alcoholic that his mother was, but since he’d straightened out his life he tended to avoid alcohol. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Clarisse didn’t comment on his choice of drink, and for that, Russel was relieved. He could always use the excuse he was driving, but he would rather avoid the topic entirely. By unspoken agreement, they turned to head back into the gallery to look around.
Clarisse moved rapidly from one panel of art to another, followed closely by Russel. After about fifteen minutes, they had covered the entire gallery, without speaking, and not stopping at all at the more obscure art forms. Finally, Clarisse looked at Russel almost at the exact moment he turned his head away from the blob of purple and red with green lines slashing diagonally through it, titled Unkind Cuts.
“Would you . . .” she began.
“Can we . . .” he started. “No, you first.”
“I’m sorry, I have to tell you, this is just meaningless to me. I’m no art critic, though. If you like it, we can stay a little longer, but that last one makes me nauseous,” Clarisse told him.
He grinned at her. “That’s a relief,” he told her quietly. “I didn’t want to say anything, but this stuff turns me off.” He shuddered. “I see what you mean about the last one, though.”
“That one and the one over there,” she nodded toward the last panel they had looked at, “both look like something a third grader could do with a bucket of paint.”
“Look, this was a bad idea. What do you say we drive by my shop, get the bike, and cruise up the coast and back? A good bike ride would sure clear my head.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice. Why do you think I chose a pantsuit over a dress? I was hoping for another ride.”
Russel felt like he’d just been struck in the heart by cupid’s arrow. She wasn’t into modern art and preferred a ride on his Harley—not to mention, she was beautiful and completely fascinating. Russel took Clarisse’s hand and lifted it to his mouth. He pressed a light kiss to her knuckles and grinned. “Were you now? I think a ride can definitely be arranged.”
Clarisse’s whole body warmed at the touch of Russel’s lips. He’s such a surprise. Russel appeared all big and gruff on the outside, but he was a true gentleman on the inside. She’d heard friends say how attractive the bad boy vibe was, but after getting pregnant young and being dumped, Clarisse just couldn’t understand the appeal.
Russel was different. The Harley and tattoos offered a glimpse into that world, yet Russel was a successful businessman who treated her with the utmost respect. It was the absolute best of both worlds.
“I’d like that,” Clarisse said, moving her hand to rub the hint of stubble on Russel’s cheek. She wanted to lean in and give Russel a proper kiss. She swayed forward just a bit and then yanked her hand back, realizing that she was standing in the middle of an art gallery. “Um… Do you have to say goodbye to Mike or anything, before we leave?”
“Nah, he’ll be okay with it. He’s busy with potential buyers right now anyway.”
“You think people will actually buy some of this stuff?”
Russel took her arm and steered her toward the front exit. “Oh, yeah. Mike told me earlier that his name’s Benito, and he’s really popular. Paintings sell into the high five-figures.” He laughed. “I had no idea what type of painting he did, or I would have suggested we do something else, popular or not.”
“Let’s just be glad we're keeping our money, and we have more exciting plans for the rest of our evening.”
Russel’s hand clasped hers tightly. “My sentiments exactly.”
“So, this is your business,” she said as they pulled up to the chain link fence surrounding a work yard behind a concrete block building.
As he got out of the car to unlock the gate, Russel replied, “Yes, ma’am. Me and the bank!” He laughed as he said it, and went to open the lock. When he came back and pulled the car into the yard, Clarisse could see that there were five, panel trucks and a work truck parked in the lot. As she got out of the car, she studied the “Burke, we keep you cool” logo on the side. It was written in script over a penguin, standing on a block of ice with a fan blowing on it.
Noticing her interest, Russel pointed out, “I designed the logo and painted it on myself. I know I look like a big, dumb tradesman, but I studied art for a little bit with a local guy. Picked up some interest in it when I was in high school. That’s why my tattoos are kind of artistic. I chose them myself, and picked out stuff I thought would look good, instead of trying to impress the girls.”
Clarisse laughed. “I’m not a big tattoo fan, but yours do look good. No smiling skulls or knives.”
“Nah. I didn’t ever feel the need for that.” Russel waved for her to follow him.
He’d parked his bike against the back wall, out of sight of the street, and behind the trucks. He started the Harley, moved it outside the gate, and let it idle for
a few minutes while he got two helmets and two jackets out of the car. “I didn’t think this through, we could have stopped at your place so you could change into some jeans. I know you said you wore pants hoping for a ride, but I’d hate to get grease or dirt on such a nice suit.”
“Don’t worry there’s always dry cleaning, but I’d appreciate if you avoided any puddles.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
Clarisse put on the leather jacket, feeling the excitement build within her. She’d never thought she’d enjoy riding a motorcycle. Yet, here she was in her nicest suit, completely unconcerned about it because she was too eager for a ride. Where had responsible Clarisse gone? As she adjusted the strap on her helmet, she just couldn’t get herself to care and vowed to relish the feeling while it lasted. Her responsibilities would be there tomorrow. Tonight was for fun.
Russel closed and locked the gate, and they were finally off, heading north up the coast. Clarisse crushed herself against Russel’s broad back, squeezing him tight. The engine’s roar and furious vibrations sent a surge of adrenaline through her. The rush of cool, night air against her face stirred every one of her senses, including her heart. The man she held on to was just as exciting and wonderful as the ride.
Russel let out a cry of joy as they sped around a turn, and Clarisse found herself joining him. It was a great night for a ride.
Chapter 10
Wednesday that week Russel came in to have breakfast. Clarisse seated him with a smile and had just enough time to get his order. Cupid’s was busy, and all the regulars were keeping her hopping. A bit later, she returned with his food and apologized to Russel about not having enough time to chat, but he just laughed and sent her off to deal with the latest arrival.
Clarisse ran back from the patio to see David Rivera sitting himself down at a table in the corner. “Hey, David. I’m sure Katy will be out in a minute to say hi. Until then, should I put your usual order in?”
A Slice of Heaven (Cupid's Cafe Where love is on the menu Book 6) Page 4
