Heather tried to flip one, only to have it break, then splatter. “Kenny won’t mind if his is scrambled, will he?” she asked Henrietta hopefully.
“Kenny will take what he gets this morning,” Henrietta said grimly. She regarded Todd irritably. “Don’t just stand there, boy. Grab a tray and get these breakfasts out there.”
“I have a better idea,” he said, setting Angel on her feet and rolling up his sleeves. His planned discussion with Heather would just have to wait. “Move over. I’ll take over in here. You two wait tables.”
“Not that I’m not grateful for the offer, but do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Henrietta asked as he stepped up to the grill and took the spatula from Heather’s hand. He noticed she didn’t even try to fight him.
“Believe me, I have done my share of time as a short-order cook,” he said. “Struggling actors get a wide range of odd-job credentials while they’re between roles. I can’t do fancy, but I can do fried.”
Henrietta gave him a smacking kiss. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”
It wasn’t lost on Todd that throughout this entire exchange, Heather not only hadn’t said a word, she had barely looked at him. She’d just backed away eagerly as soon as she’d relinquished the spatula. The instant Henrietta accepted his offer to take over, Heather flew out of the kitchen with a tray filled with overdue breakfasts.
Henrietta gave him a piercing look. “You two have a spat?”
“Not exactly.”
“What, then?”
“Henrietta, do we really have time to dissect my personal life?”
“I’ll make the time,” she said. “Tell me what’s going on. She’s been acting like a bear with a thorn in its paw for the last two days, when she should be floating on air after that triumph out at the theater. Everyone in town’s talking about the play and begging her to do more.”
Todd winced, aware that he was now pitted against the whole damn town. “If you’re so curious, ask her to explain. I have work to do.”
“Those eggs can wait,” she insisted. “I’m asking you for an explanation, since instinct tells me you’re at the root of the problem.”
“Okay, just to save time, here it is. I invited a major Broadway investor to come to the play on Friday night. He was impressed and he made her an offer. Instead of being grateful, she’s furious.”
Henrietta regarded him with pity. “And you can’t understand why,” she guessed. “Men!”
That said, she flounced out of the kitchen. The next time she came in, she scowled at him. “For a supposedly brilliant man, you are dumber than dirt, Todd Winston. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. More times if necessary. If you let that woman get away, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”
“You have mentioned that,” he agreed. “Are you finished now? Can I get to work?”
She gave him an impatient look, grabbed a few more plates and stalked out of the kitchen. When the door swung open again, Heather came through, snatched up her orders without a word and left. Todd had the distinct impression he was still in disfavor, despite having pitched in to help.
For the next couple of hours, the pattern was repeated over and over. He was so busy he didn’t have time to dwell on it. On Sunday mornings, people who only drank coffee and ate doughnuts during the week ordered big breakfasts of hotcakes, eggs, hash browns and sausage or bacon. Then they rushed off to church, only to make way for others who’d been to earlier services and were now ready for a big brunch.
The next time anyone actually spoke to him, it was only to announce that “that man” was sitting at the counter. “He’d like to speak to you,” Heather added with a dark look.
“Tell him I can’t leave the grill. Send him back here,” he said.
When Peter came through the door a moment later, he took one look at Todd’s frazzled appearance, then burst into laughter. “When Heather told me you were back here, I didn’t believe it. Do you do dishes, too?”
“Not if I can help it. If you don’t have anything better to do, roll up your sleeves and help.”
To his surprise, Peter looked intrigued. “Really?”
“Why not? It’s amateur day around here.”
“Hey, I’m no amateur. Read my press sometime. I’m a gourmet chef. My dinner parties are legendary.”
“I always assumed you had them catered.”
“Depends on the guest list. If I want really terrific gourmet food, I do it myself.”
“We don’t care about gourmet. Just try not to break the egg yolks. People are getting testy about all the eggs being scrambled.”
Peter didn’t have to be asked twice. He eagerly grabbed an apron off a hook on the back of the door and stepped into place beside him. To Todd’s amazement, he quickly fell into the rhythm of getting the orders ready for the two women.
“Heather turned me down,” Peter announced after a while, when the pace had eased thanks to the two of them working.
Todd shot a startled look at him. “She did?” He’d been so sure she would see things his way, once she’d had time to think about it. Then again, hadn’t he come over here this morning precisely because he thought she needed to hear a few hard truths? He just hadn’t had time to deliver them.
“Did she say why?” he asked.
“She says she’s settling here, that this theater group is just getting off the ground and she wants to see it through, since she was the one who started it. There was a whole lot more about commitment, but I got the feeling not all of it had to do with the theater. Any idea what else she could have been talking about?”
Oh, Todd knew, all right. “That’s absurd,” he said, waving off everything Peter had reported. “This is an amateur group in the middle of nowhere. I’ll talk to her.”
“Don’t,” Peter advised. “If she’s not fully committed, I’d rather not do it. There are other talented directors who’d kill for the opportunity.” He regarded Todd knowingly. “Personally, I think she has another agenda.”
“Yeah,” Todd mumbled. “She’s out to drive me crazy.”
Peter chuckled. “If I were you, I’d let her. You could do a whole lot worse, my friend.”
Todd scowled. “The only advice I really want from you, my friend, is how we’re going to handle the lunch crowd when they come in here expecting roast chicken and mashed potatoes.”
Peter seemed inclined to argue, but he finally shrugged. “Whatever you say. As for the chicken, no problem. If there’s some rosemary around here and a little olive oil, I’ll give these people a Sunday dinner they won’t soon forget.”
A half hour later, Henrietta came into the kitchen, sniffed the air, then stared at the two of them. “What is that I smell?”
“Lunch,” Todd said succinctly. “You can thank Peter.”
She rushed over to the oven, opened the door and peered inside at the roasting chickens. “Oh, my,” she murmured. “Maybe I’ll just close up and we can sit down and have ourselves a feast.”
“There’s more than enough for us to do that after you feed your usual Sunday crowd,” Todd assured her. “By the way, who’s helping Heather out there?”
“Heather and I are on a break. She’s at the counter drinking a soda. I came back here to start lunch. I put the judge and Sissy to work. That old man is surprisingly quick on his feet, but he has a tendency to stop and chat too long with the customers.” She grinned. “I’ll break him of that soon enough. I’ve already told him if he wants to gossip to do it on his own time.”
Todd’s feet were killing him and his back ached like the dickens by the time Henrietta closed the doors at three o’clock.
He was more grateful than he could ever say that he’d found a profession that allowed him to sit behind a desk and use his brain. Peter seemed equally wrung out, but happily so.
“Haven’t had that much fun in years,” Peter declared as he slid into a booth with a plate filled to overflowing with the chicken, mashed potatoes and peas he’d fixed.<
br />
The judge, Henrietta and Sissy sank into a neighboring booth with their own food. Heather stood beside them with a plate, clearly debating which table to join.
“Sit here,” Peter invited, patting the seat next to him. “I promise I won’t badger you about directing a play for me.”
She looked reluctant, but she finally sat down. For the first time all day, she actually met Todd’s gaze across the table.
“You’re a mess,” she declared. For some reason that seemed to make her happy.
“How kind of you to notice,” he said.
“I’ve got to say, the two of you amazed me today,” she said. “Not many big shots would pitch in the way you did.”
“You must not know the right big shots,” Peter chided. “Any man worth his salt would jump through hoops to help two damsels in distress.”
“Now that you mention it, until now, Todd was just about the only big shot I knew, and I was beginning to think I didn’t know him very well.”
The pointed barb struck home. Todd regarded her levelly. “Peter tells me you turned down his offer,” he said. When she scowled at him, he said, “I’m not the one who promised not to bug you about this.”
“The offer was very generous, but the timing was all wrong,” she said, regarding him with a touch of defiance.
“If you ask me, the timing couldn’t have been better,” Todd countered.
“For you, maybe,” she shot back.
Peter held up a hand. “Hey, you two, it’s okay. If things change, Heather can always get in touch with me. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy a nice, friendly meal, okay? I didn’t spend hours anticipating this food only to wind up with indigestion because of the company.”
Heather’s scowl indicated there was nothing friendly between her and Todd, but she dutifully fell silent.
Todd and Peter exchanged small talk after that, but they were unable to draw Heather into the conversation. Peter observed her sullen expression with obvious amusement, then grinned at Todd.
“I think I’ll be on my way. It’s a long drive back to Laramie and I’ve got an early-evening flight.”
Heather scooted out of the booth to let him leave. “I’m sorry you wasted a trip.”
“Discovering someone with so much talent is never a waste,” he told her. “I still think we’ll work together one of these days.”
“Mr. O’Brien—”
“Peter,” he corrected her.
“You’re very kind, but I know you just did this as a favor to Todd,” she said.
Todd was about to deny that, but Peter saved him the trouble.
“If you think that, Heather, then you don’t know Todd very well, and you certainly don’t know me.”
His words and his sharp tone drew a startled look from Heather. Todd could see the apology forming on her lips, but he didn’t give her time to utter it.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said to Peter.
Peter paused to accept Henrietta’s heartfelt thanks, then went outside. “You’ll get in touch if you think she’s wavering?” he asked Todd.
“Absolutely,” he agreed. Unfortunately he had a feeling Heather had dug in her heels every bit as deeply as he had. “I just don’t expect it to be anytime soon.”
“I can always hope. The woman’s a major find. For some reason, she can’t see that.” He grinned. “I guess she’s blinded by love.”
“More’s the pity,” Todd muttered. He shook Peter’s hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime. I’ll be in touch about the advertising schedule for Peggy’s show. You keep bringing me talent like her and Heather and you’ll make me a wealthy man.”
Todd laughed. “You already have more money than Bill Gates.”
“Not quite yet,” Peter said. “But I’m working on it.”
After Peter had driven away, Todd returned to find Heather sitting alone. Surprised that she hadn’t opted to join Henrietta and the judge, he slid in opposite her, trying to gauge her mood.
“Second thoughts?” he inquired hopefully.
“You wish.”
“My goal wasn’t to drive you away. It was to make you see the potential you’re wasting on a lost cause.”
“My choice.”
“Of course, but—”
She cut him off. “Todd, you can’t win this argument. I’m staying. Therefore, your daughter’s staying. I’m not entirely sure why that terrifies you so, but you might as well learn to deal with it.”
“Damn, but you’re stubborn.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Her gaze clashed with his, daring him to back down. Since there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening, he merely sighed.
“Excuse me. I think I’ll go deal with the budget for Peggy’s show. At least numbers make sense.”
She let him get as far as the door before she called out. “How much is one plus one?”
He regarded her with a narrowed gaze. “Two.”
“That’s the simple answer,” she agreed. “Add up you and me and somehow we wound up with three. Keep that in mind while you’re crunching those numbers of yours.”
This time his sigh was deeper and more heartfelt. It wasn’t as if he could forget about Angel. In fact, she was at the root of all his problems. That little girl’s image was always with him—laughing, happy and, most of all, safe. But how long would it stay that way?
“The man is tormented about something,” Heather told Flo later that night when her friend called to report her own frustration over her inability to get Joe into bed. “How am I ever going to get Todd to tell me what’s really bothering him?”
“Have you tried asking him?” Flo asked.
“Of course I have. I’ve all but gotten down on my knees and pleaded with him to tell me why he’s doing this to us. He just says it’s for the best.”
“What about Megan? Think she knows?”
“I doubt it. Todd’s the kind of man who believes his personal life has no business in the workplace.”
“But he and Megan are friends, too. I’ve seen them together. I’ll bet she knows things about him that no one else does.”
“Even so, he would hate it if I asked her.”
“Then I will,” Flo offered. “I talk to her all the time when we’re conspiring to get Jake out of her hair and back into his office. I can just casually bring it up and see what she says. I owe you for getting Joe and me together.” She sighed. “Well, almost together, anyway. The man has the willpower of a saint.”
“Think of it as respect and you’ll feel better,” Heather advised.
“Maybe mentally,” Flo agreed, sounding thoroughly dispirited. “But my body doesn’t seem to give two hoots about respect. It wants action.”
“Look at this another way. Joe’s a very virile man. Don’t you think he’s frustrated, too?”
“I suppose,” she said, but she obviously took no comfort in it. “Enough about that. Let’s talk some more about Megan. I really think she could help out.”
“No,” Heather said. “I think we’d better leave her out of this. Let me try going straight to the source one more time. I’d rather hear whatever it is directly from Todd, instead of a third party. That’s the honest, straightforward way to get answers.
“Besides,” she added candidly, “I think it would bug me no end to discover that he’s confided something to Megan that he refuses to tell me, especially when he claims to love me.”
“Suit yourself,” Flo said. “Keep me posted. I think I’ll take another cold shower and head to bed.”
“Do cold showers really work?” Heather asked.
“Not really, but it’s so hot these days that it’s worth taking one, anyway.”
Chuckling, Heather hung up, but the light mood faded quickly. She needed to get this situation with Todd resolved once and for all. The only way to do that was to try to force the issue. It was past time for subtlety and polite questions. In fact, there was no time like the present.
>
Even though it was already after eleven, she knew the kind of hours he kept when he was trying to avoid a problem. She suspected he’d been up past midnight a lot lately. Before she could reconsider, she picked up the phone again and dialed.
“Yes,” he barked.
“That’s a friendly greeting. Hoping to scare off the telemarketers?”
“Why are you calling so late?” he asked at once, his tone instantly more worried than irritated. “Is everything okay? Angel’s not sick, is she?”
She couldn’t help being vaguely surprised by his immediate concern for Angel. As far as she’d been able to tell, he tried not to give the child a second thought.
“Angel’s fine. But I was wondering if you could come over.”
“Now?”
“Is that a problem? Were you already asleep?”
“No, but—”
“It’s important or I wouldn’t ask.”
“Have you been reconsidering Peter’s offer?”
“Something like that,” she said vaguely.
“I’ll be right there.”
She hung up feeling thoroughly disgruntled. Even though she knew she should be pleased he was heading over, she still felt irritated that it was only because he thought she’d finally been convinced to leave town.
When he finally walked through the door, she pushed her annoyance aside, offered him coffee, then gestured toward the sofa.
“Relax. This could take a while.” She deliberately sat down very close to him. She let her hand “accidentally” come to rest on his thigh, then bit back a chuckle when he regarded her with alarm.
“What are you up to?” he asked.
“I am not up to anything.”
He carefully removed her hand, then sat back and waited. So did she, as she searched for the right way to get into this.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Why am I here? What’s the big emergency?”
“No emergency. You’re here to talk,” she said.
His gaze narrowed. “About?”
She shifted, snuggling close. “Us.”
He drew in a sharp breath, then tried to ease away. The end of the sofa kept him right where he was. “Heather,” he protested, “this is not a good idea.”
Angel Mine Page 25
