by Dawn Atkins
* * *
Six forty-five and everything was perfect, Lacey thought. Six exotic coffees were brewed and ready. Bottles of various liqueurs gleamed from behind the slick black bar for the coffee drinks. Rows of oversize cobalt-blue mugs awaited coffee orders. Each granite cocktail table sported a tiny black vase and two of the tiger lilies Max had bought. The smell of rich coffee, baked goods and Mexican spice filled the air. Tiny tamales made of white chocolate with pistachio nuts, mini-muffins and brownies in three flavors, and shrimp flautas with chipotle chile and grilled pork quesadillas – new creations of Ramón's – waited patiently in trays to be passed.
The waitresses giggled nervously and fiddled with each other's berets.
Everything was perfect. Except for one thing. No Wade. Lacey bit her fingernail nervously – a habit she'd given up as a teenager. Wade hadn't shown up at six as he'd promised and hadn't responded to his cell phone. Reluctantly, she'd shut down the PowerPoint presentation and put it in her trailer.
He'd just have to see the place in action first. She hated to admit it, but her success wouldn't be real until she saw that "wow" on Wade's face. What if he didn't come at all? No, he'd said he had details to handle on the California sale. He'd probably be here any minute.
"You look great," Max said from behind her.
She turned to face him. "Thanks." She loved how his eyes lit at the sight of her and the way that slow, sexy, wild-west grin spread on his face. His teeth were so white. He had great hygiene for a ranch hand. "You look great, too."
He did. He looked stunning in a black cowboy hat with a white dress cowboy shirt and string tie, black jeans and shiny black boots. Her cowboy. If only she hadn't pushed him into that globe. That little thump had shattered the moment. Not exactly the way she'd hoped to rock his world. Since then, she hadn't had a chance to talk with him. But, in her heart, she hoped that after the opening they'd pick up where they'd barely started. But what if Max came to his senses? He had a bad habit of that.
Max studied her face. "What's wrong?" he said. He read her too well.
She wasn't about to tell him her immediate worry, so she told him the other one. "Wade's not here yet. I'm scared he'll miss it."
"He won't," he said. "Besides, even if he doesn't come, you're still a success. Enjoy it."
"Sure," she said, but she couldn't really. Not yet. Not until the place was packed with happy customers. And Wade had to be here. "I've got to find Jasper. He got a band, but I want the details."
"I think he was checking on Monty," Max said.
She headed in that direction, but the door danged. Her first guests! Lacey's heart lurched. She took a deep breath and headed out to greet them.
Before she knew it, the place was packed and Lacey was breathless from greeting people and talking about the place with reporters. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. Trying to catch her breath, she looked around at the people who filled the bar stools and all of the cocktail tables, and stood in dusters everywhere else, talking excitedly. There was definitely some picking up going on, too. Perfect.
It was hectic, though. Lots of little fires to put out. Every time she turned around she had to reassure Ramón that people loved his food. It was worth it to watch him beam.
Luckily, Max was helping wherever he was needed – serving drinks when the waitresses got too busy or keeping the college boys from getting too rowdy, pausing now and then to catch Lacey's eye with a grin. She found herself always aware of where he was. She felt his eyes on her, felt his support, his pride, and it filled her with energy and confidence.
Still no Wade, though. She tried not to be disappointed, but she felt like a bride left at the altar. She wished she'd arranged to have the event videotaped. There would be TV news coverage at least, so she'd have to settle for buying the video news clip to show him.
She looked at her watch. Quarter to eight. The band should have setup by now. Where were they? She'd yet to get the details from Jasper. Panicked, she set off after her uncle. She found him about to go behind the stage curtain. "What's happening?" she hissed.
"Everything's fine," he said, his eyes bright with excitement.
"Is the band ready?"
"Actually, the first two groups I called had gigs, but my friend Art helped me line up something."
"We have no band?"
"Calm down. We've got something just as good. Three acts, as a matter of fact. Don't worry."
"Don't worry? But I—"
"Trust me," he said. He held a finger to his lips in a "ssh" gesture, then slipped behind the curtain. Lacey wanted to go after him, but the guests seated at the tables were watching, so she turned and smiled as if this were all going according to plan, then moved to the side of the stage. She caught sight of Max at the back of the room, his arms folded, watching her with such pleasure and pride her heart warmed. She just had to hope it would be all right.
The curtain opened and Jasper stepped out to the microphone. "This thing on?" He tapped the mike, the noise like thunder.
Lacey cringed.
"Welcome to the Wonder Coffeehouse, Theater and Amazatorium," he said, blaring like the voice of God until he adjusted the mike's distance from his mouth. "As I was saying. The old Wonder Café and Amazatorium got a face-lift thanks to my niece here." He pointed at where she stood beside the stage. "Didn't she do a great job, folks? Let's give her a hand." He clapped against the mike, each dap a harsh amplified thud.
Obediently, the people dapped and Lacey blushed and nodded, trying to give Jasper the signal to get going.
"Now, before we get started, let me just put a plug in for the Amazatorium. Be sure to stop in. You can say hello to The Thing, and enjoy the wonders of the desert I've collected over thirty-five years. There's a two-headed bobcat, a five-foot-high tumbleweed and—"
"Jasper," she hissed.
"Okay, Lacey. I getcha. Enough already with the commercial. But, seriously folks, do get yourself a souvenir before you leave. A key-chain, pot holder or pocket mirror." He caught Lacey's frown. "Okay, okay. Let's get started with our first performers. You're in for a treat tonight, because … fresh from an exclusive engagement at the Copper Queen in Bisbee, Arizona – we were lucky to catch them on their way to Quartzite – I present to you…" he paused dramatically and then shouted, "Manny Romero and his Polka Trio!"
Before Lacey could absorb the incongruity of linking the name "Romero" with "polka," three rotund Hispanic men clomped onto the stage wearing lederhosen and leather Tyrolean hats, and accordions hanging from their necks.
The audience seemed stunned. A few people laughed, assuming this was a comedy routine.
But it wasn't. The trio swung into the "Beer Barrel Polka," their brown faces intent, the feathers in their jaunty caps jiggling from the intensity of their movements. They were good, too.
After a few shocked moments, she saw that Max was loping across the dance floor to her. He took her hand and swung her into his arms. "Smile, sweetheart," he said. "And think Lawrence Welk." And then, amazingly, they were dancing. Max led her skillfully through several quick polka turns. The audience began to clap in time. Someone whistled. If she hadn't been so flipped out, she might have enjoyed the way the air brushed her cheek, the polka rhythms made her want to move and what a wonderful dancer Max was. She kept thinking, Manny Romero?
"Folks, get out here and dance," Max called to the watching crowd, motioning with one hand. "Hey, Buck," he said, spotting the ranch foreman. "Get your lady out here and cut some rug. The Texas Two-Step works great!"
There was some noise, chairs scraped, and soon Buck and a petite woman began to dance. Lacey recognized her as the waitress who'd served them at the cowboy bar where she'd gotten smashed. "I swear the things you get me into," Buck muttered to Max, a tight smile on his face as they danced by.
"You look good, honey," Buck's partner said to her. "Just stay clear of boilermakers and you'll have a fine time."
Lacey smiled. As more people joined them and the crowd cl
apped along, she began to feel better. Okay, the guests were going along with it. And at least Manny and his compadres were decent musicians, though how they ended up as a polka band was beyond her.
After a few numbers, Manny and the boys waddled off to uproarious applause. All right. They'd squeaked by without sending the crowd home.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Jasper said, sounding like a circus barker at the mike. "Just a sample of the kind of entertainment you'll see every night here at the Wonder Coffeehouse, Theater and Amazatorium. Next up, we have a very special act. Making his debut here with us tonight, is a master of prestidigitation, a minister of the mysterious, a wonder of the wand, the one, the only, Kenny the Magnificent."
A boy no older than thirteen lugged a card table onto the middle of the stage, then threw a tablecloth over it. He wore a crooked moustache, a silk magician's hat that rested on his ears and a cape that hung to his knees.
"Thank you," he said, then bowed stiffly. He performed a couple of simple card tricks, and then announced, "For the rest of my performance, I'll need the help of a lovely assistant." He searched the audience, then his eyes fell on Lacey. "How about you, Miss?"
"Me? Oh, no."
"Sure, go ahead," Max said, giving her a nudge.
She glared at Max, but the audience was cheering, so she hiked up her skirt and climbed onto the stage. Okay, how bad could it be?
Pretty bad, it turned out. Instead of being Kenny's lovely assistant, she became his accidental comedy foil. Trick after trick failed. He cracked an egg on her head from which a bird was supposed to hatch. Instead, the egg broke, dribbling yoke and white down the side of her head and the bird had to be chased across the stage.
The water in the pitcher that he poured into a folded newspaper she held, which was supposed to disappear into thin air, spilled down her blouse. And the scarf he tried to pull out of her ear got tangled in her hair and had to be cut out. His finale, in which he was to magically free her bound feet and hands, required Max and Buck to untie the knots that were cutting off her circulation.
The good news was the audience loved it. They hooted, laughed and cheered uproariously the entire time. Kenny was glum at first, but eventually the crowd's applause cheered him up.
When Kenny had taken his final bow and dragged his card table to stage left, Lacey climbed offstage, her blouse damp, her hair sticky with egg, and focused on the one good thing about the performance – her brother hadn't seen it.
Except then she noticed a man leaning against the wall beside the door, his arms folded, a huge grin on his face. Wade had arrived.
* * *
Chapter 9
«^»
Omigod. She could only hope he'd just walked in. "Wade!" she said, her heart in her throat.
"Lacey." Wade pulled her into a brotherly bear hug, then released her. "You're damp."
"Yes, I, um," she brushed at the water-soaked blouse. "There was a spill…"
"So I saw."
"You saw?"
"I walked in just as the egg broke on your head."
"The first or second?"
"There was more than one?"
"Oh, God. Let me explain, Wade. You see, the band I'd scheduled got some bad chorizo in New Mexico, and Jasper had to—"
"Relax, Lacey. It was fine. The crowd loved it." He indicated the happy, chatting people who still filled the place. No one had left, that was certain. If anything, the coffeehouse was more crowded than ever. "The place looks great."
"You think so?"
"Absolutely."
"I wanted to surprise you," she said. He hadn't even boggled at the transformation. It was almost as if he expected it. A tingle of disappointment edged her pleasure.
"Oh, you did. You really did," he reassured her.
"Good. It was all my idea." That sounded self-important, so she hurried to explain. "I mean, I did the research and planning and everything. My crew made it happen. I have a whole presentation I want to show you. We could do it now, if you'll come with me to the trailer."
"No need, Lacey," he said. "You're busy now. We can go over all of it tomorrow. I'm staying at Rancho Gordo tonight. I'll come out here in the morning and we can talk."
"Tomorrow? We'll talk tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Over breakfast. I understand you've replaced Jasper with someone who knows his way around huevos rancheros."
"What time?"
"I don't know. How about nine?"
"Nine it is. Sharp." How could Wade be so casual? He'd been second-guessing her all his life, and just like that, he trusted her judgment? She'd spent thousands of dollars changing the look and purpose of a Wellington property without telling its CEO and he was willing to talk about it over breakfast? She was stunned.
"So, tomorrow we'll talk?"
"Sure, sure," he said, then his attention locked on something beyond her shoulder, and his jaw dropped. "Would you look at that…"
She turned toward the stage just as Jasper said, "And now I present to you … Miss Pepper, the Bird Woman of Mystery!" A woman in a purple harem outfit emerged from stage left. She clapped her hands and Middle Eastern music filled the room. Pounding drums and wailing reed instruments sounded so good through the new speakers it seemed like a live band was playing. The harem woman began to chink finger cymbals and swung her hips into a belly dance.
A belly dancer? Jasper had outdone himself this time, she thought. She looked back at Wade, expecting him to be laughing. Instead, his gaze was locked on Pepper. He looked absolutely smitten. She'd never seen Wade show a twinkle of interest in any female.
Pepper was pretty, Lacey saw – short, with long brown hair and substantial breasts. Though her technique wasn't great, she danced with exuberance. After a few more circles, she stopped still, put both pinkies to her mouth and gave out an ear-splitting whistle. A few seconds later, a huge white bird – an overweight cockatiel, Lacey thought – appeared on the stage, waddling leisurely toward Pepper and then began to walk up her leg. As soon as the bird reached her arm, Pepper began to sway her hips again in a slow arc.
Looking almost bored, the bird walked up her arm to her shoulder where it tugged at a string that released a veil, which dropped to the stage floor.
The audience howled its delight. Pepper did a little shimmy, then spun around. Eventually, the lumbering bird had plucked five veils, one by one, from Pepper's body. In the end, she wore a bikini that covered everything important – at least enough to keep the state from yanking Lacey's liquor license.
As a finale, Pepper did the splits, while the hulking bird flew across the audience – a battleship with wings – three veils trailing like streamers from its beak
The crowd cheered, Pepper took a bow and the guest on whose shoulder the bird landed walked it back up to the stage, wobbling a little under the weight of the gargantuan bird.
After the applause ended, Lacey turned to Wade. "The entertainment's a little kooky tonight, but we'll get that ironed out."
But Wade was hardly listening. "We'll talk tomorrow, Lacey," he said. "I've got to meet that woman." He headed toward the stage.
"Okay … tomorrow," she said, still puzzled by her brother's relaxed attitude. It was a good thing, she knew, but it felt all wrong.
She looked for Max to tell him what happened and get his opinion about her brother's reaction, and saw he was helping the bartender. But, as usual, he felt her eyes on him and looked up.
She headed for him, tugged as if by a wire, needing to be near him.
He handed off the drink to a waitress without looking, keeping his eyes on her. He came around the bar to meet her halfway. Her heart pounded in her throat so that she could barely speak. There was still so much between them.
He looked like he wanted to hold her, but at the last minute, she saw him get control and stop.
"That was your brother you were talking with," he said. "How did it go?"
"He was pleased. Well, not upset anyway. I don't know quite what to think he thinks. He di
dn't really seem surprised. I'm meeting him for breakfast at nine to show him my presentation. I'll know more then."
"I'm sure he'll love what you've done," Max said. "How could he not? He probably has more faith in you than you realize."
"Maybe." Though that was hard to believe.
"Are you happy?"
Was she? She'd been so anxious, she hadn't thought about it. "Yes, um, I think so." She should be. Everything was going her way, even if Wade's reaction seemed a little strange.
"Good. I want you to be happy. That's the most important thing." His gaze roved her face, as if memorizing her, his eyes full of longing and sadness.
Embarrassed by his intense look, her hand flew to her egg-bedraggled hair. "I'm such a mess," she said.
"No, you're not," he said, low and serious. "You're beautiful." His eyes held her as if she were a gift just for him. She could hardly breathe for how much she wanted him.
"All night, I've been trying to memorize you," he said. "While I held you in my arms dancing, when you were standing on stage, looking gorgeous and elegant even with raw egg sliding down your cheeks or being hog-tied by that squirt magician. I want to remember every moment of you."
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, knowing already that he was saying goodbye. Oh, no. She'd wanted to erase his regret about not having sex with her. Tonight would be a perfect chance. "But, Max, I thought we would … I mean … before…"
"I know. But that would have been stupid. Thank God I got conked before I went too far. This worked out for the best." He crushed her into a hug. "Lacey," he whispered in her ear – so much more in the word than just her name.
Before she could say anything, he was gone.
She wanted to go after him, argue with him, at least kiss him goodbye, but duty called. Jasper beckoned to her from the stage – Kenny wanted a letter of recommendation – then the bartender needed more wine and there was something annoying Ramón in the kitchen.
Over the next two hours, while she kept things moving, solved minor crises and made sure her customers were happy, Lacey kept an eye open for Max, but he seemed to be gone. She had the icy feeling he meant for that last hug to be goodbye for good. If she wanted to see him again, she'd have to track him on horseback.
