by Evie Nichole
The ballroom itself was oblong shaped. There were columns ringing the edge of it. They gave the place a Corinthian or Greek kind of feel. For this event, some party planner had hung lengths of watered silk from the top of each pillar. The silken streamers crisscrossed the edges of the ballroom in a pattern reminiscent of a maypole. Of course, it was May. Perhaps spring had been the inspiration for the party theme. Melody was often too busy with the everyday tasks involved in living to worry about party themes or what time of year it was.
The band was playing low-key pop songs that seemed as though they were more background music than anything else. There was nobody on the dance floor at the moment. Everyone had bunched into tight little cliques that reminded Melody strongly of the halls at a high school on any given morning.
“Excuse me? Can I get a glass of wine, please?”
Melody turned with a very practiced smile and dipped her chin to a very elegant woman in a midnight-blue sheath dress. The fabric of her dress clung in all the right places. It emphasized the tiny waist and the voluptuous chest as though it had been specially tailored to fit her Grecian goddess figure. The woman’s dark hair had been pulled into an updo, and there were gems winking on her ears and on the silver comb stuck into her hair. Her complexion was smooth and dark like caramel. Her words had carried the barest hint of a Spanish accent. It was just enough to make her about as exotic as any man could want.
“Thank you.” The woman plucked a glass from the edge of the tray, and Melody had to shift the load in her arms to avoid it toppling over. Then the party guest turned to her male companion. “Francisco, do you want a glass of wine?”
Melody felt her breath lodge in her lungs as the woman’s date turned around. He was not just familiar. He was absolutely known to her. And why shouldn’t he be? She had been fantasizing about him in the privacy of her one-room apartment for a week or more now.
Cisco—Francisco, apparently—was wearing a beautiful tuxedo. It fit his body like a glove and made his shoulders look twice as broad and imposing as before. His curly black hair had been once again slicked back from his face. Melody could not help but wonder what he would look like if he just let the tousled locks go free. His swarthy complexion was a beautiful match for the caramel perfection of his date’s. She was tall. He was taller, even than her stiletto heels. They were a power couple plain and simple.
“Melody,” Cisco murmured. His blue eyes opened a fraction wider in his obvious surprise in seeing her there. “Are you still working?”
Somehow, the words he was speaking did not make her feel as though he were being rude or decisive. Perhaps coming from anyone else they would have had a very different vibe. It was difficult to say. But when he smiled at her, Melody was powerless to stop herself from smiling back.
“I suppose I am still working.” Melody moved the tray closer to him. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Please, don’t mind if I do.” He took one from a spot toward the middle of the tray, which at least allowed her to keep the thing balanced. “That’s quite a heavy load to be toting around the room.”
“It’s a load that gets lighter and lighter very quickly without much encouragement on my part,” Melody told him wryly.
“Well, I appreciate your willingness to tote the tray around anyway.” Then Cisco slipped a bill onto the tray.
Melody felt her cheeks flush as his female companion stared in open fascination at Melody. Obviously, the woman had no idea why he would be speaking to the help. It was a common hang-up at these parties. For the most part, the servers were invisible. When party guests tipped, it was almost an automatic thing that happened because they were so used to tipping just about everyone. Melody had always been aware that this was almost more of a status symbol for them than a gesture of true appreciation for a service rendered. For the most part, it didn’t matter. It was still money.
“It was good to see you,” Melody murmured to Cisco. “I’m off to unload more wine glasses.”
“Right.”
Melody could feel Cisco’s gaze following her as she moved about the room. It was disconcerting to know that this was the social engagement his father had demanded he attend. Nearly twenty minutes had passed before Melody brushed up against Allie once again.
“Psst!” Allie whispered urgently. “I just realized something.”
“What’s that?” Melody was glad to be back with someone who was more like her.
“Your guy from the coffee shop?” Allie was busy trying to point across the ballroom while still hanging onto her mostly full tray. “He’s here!”
Melody didn’t want to expand on this at all. “I know. I saw him.”
“His last name is Hernandez,” Allie explained. “I should have known before, but I’d never really made the connection before. You know? His family is loaded. They’re practically Denver ranching royalty.”
Great. That didn’t really help much. Although why Melody would care whom Cisco’s family was seemed irrelevant. She wasn’t trying to marry him. She was just trying to get some free legal advice. That was all.
“His father is like the pushiest guy in the room.” Allie turned around and jerked her chin toward a very hard-looking man with black hair shot through with gray and a stony and determined expression. “I just thought you should know.”
“Well, thank you for keeping me informed,” Melody told her friend. “But we’re just coffee shop acquaintances. Nothing more.”
“Whew.” Allie pooched out her lower lip and sagged as much as she could beneath the weight of her tray. “I would have hated to see you get mixed up with that snotty bunch!”
“Yeah.” Melody sighed and moved away from Allie to take another circuit around the room. “That would be a real pity.”
Chapter Six
Cisco could not stop staring at Melody. He was trying to reconcile the idea that she was here. Did the woman never sleep? Did she never play or have fun or do anything but work? What kind of life was that? And why was that any of his business?
Melody looked tired. She was still wearing her uniform from the coffee shop. The only difference between her job A and job B uniforms was the black apron tied securely around her body from neck to knees. Her brown hair was still in the messy knot on top of her head, and her green eyes were looking even flatter and more tired.
“Have you heard a word that I’ve said to you in the last five minutes?” Vittoria murmured. There was more than a hint of irritation in her tone.
Cisco mentally kicked himself. Vittoria was the sort of woman he should be going after. He should be trying to make himself indispensable to her. He should be romancing her or something. She was rich. She was connected. She was a senior partner in his law firm. Eventual marriage to someone like Vittoria would absolutely secure Cisco’s place in Denver society. He could make an honest attempt to leave his family’s machinations and drama behind. He could immerse himself in the legal scene. Perhaps he could eventually become a judge. Who knew? With someone like Vittoria at his side, the possibilities were endless.
Which meant he needed to nip her irritation in the bud right now. “You were saying that the man straight ahead is a federal judge, which I knew. Judge Everson and my father go way back. There was some land deal that the two of them negotiated together before Everson was a judge. I believe there was a favor involved, though neither man will admit it.” Cisco offered Vittoria a mild smile. “And you were also mentioning that you would like an opportunity to meet Everson because you are currently preparing to litigate a case in front of him and he’s a bit of an unknown quality to you.”
Vittoria drew back. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and then she linked her arm through his. “Very good,” she purred. “And to think I was under the assumption that you were absolutely engrossed in the waitress.”
“That’s silly,” he murmured. Why did it feel so wrong to say that? He should be trying to do his level best to assure Vittoria that there was absolutely no threat to her from Melody.
“The young woman works in the coffee shop around the corner from our building. I see her sometimes in that shop. That’s all.”
“Oh, I see.” Vittoria’s eyes narrowed. Why did it feel as though he had not alleviated any of her discomfiture with his simple explanation? Women. They were all so paranoid and so very odd in the way they viewed each other. “She seems as though she is awfully familiar with you.”
“She’s just inherited some property,” Cisco said slowly. “I agreed to take a quick look at the estate attorney’s notes for her.”
“So, she’s a client.” Vittoria’s flat statement was almost dangerous in nature. Cisco could feel the risk, and it was pissing him off. “Then, you should make sure to bill her accordingly.”
“She’s not a client.” He let a bit of honest irritation creep into his voice. “She’s a minor acquaintance. I agreed to look at something. I’m not charging her because I’m not using company time, or even really my time. It’s minimal at best. The equivalent of glancing at something while I’m getting my coffee.”
“I see.” Vittoria suddenly beamed at him. “There’s no need to get prickly. How about we go say hello to Judge Everson? That will effectively change the subject. Don’t you think?”
Change the subject. That was her solution to this problem. Maybe it was the right thing to do. It was difficult to say. It was hard to judge what was really going on here. He had no idea what Vittoria’s angle was. He had no notion of what her plans were or her intentions were toward him or them or whatever this was. After all, it had been Cisco’s father to come up with this notion that they should come to this gala as a couple.
“Whatever you’d like,” Cisco murmured.
She put her arm through his once again and essentially dragged him over to Judge Everson. The jovial older man with the white hair and the big round belly had been a fixture in Denver society ever since Cisco could recall. Everson wore glasses as thick as the bottom of a bottle, and yet he spotted Cisco heading his way almost immediately.
“Cisco, my boy!” Everson boomed. “So good to see you here! Your father tells me you’ve graduated from law school and passed your test!” Everson slapped Cisco on the shoulder so hard that he had to plant his feet on the ballroom floor to keep himself from going flying. “So proud of you, boy!”
“Yes,” Vittoria said in an even more accented and slightly breathier tone of voice. “Francisco has passed his bar exam and will be working with me at Aquilar and Associates.”
“That right?” Everson glanced from Vittoria to Cisco. He gave the woman’s formfitting blue dress a very obvious once-over rake with his gaze. “And you are?”
“Vittoria Velasquez.” Vittoria put her hand out to shake Everson’s. “It’s just so nice to meet you! I’ve been an admirer of your career for long years now.”
Cisco scratched his jaw and looked down at the ground to avoid an open eye roll. That was most certainly slathering it on a little thick for his taste. It was obvious to anyone present that Vittoria was a lawyer and that Everson was a judge. It was also very apparent that she was making an attempt to ingratiate herself. For being a lawyer and a woman, she wasn’t very subtle.
“Well, I appreciate the mention,” Everson told Vittoria. Then he made a very firm quarter-turn to give her a portion of his back as he turned to Cisco once again. “Young man, your father tells me that you have declined a position at the corporate office! Why would you go and do a fool thing like that? They need you over at Hernandez Land & Cattle. Do you have any idea the nonsense that’s going on in this town at the moment regarding the Flying W and those rodeo stock contracts?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t say that I do.” Cisco sighed. “I don’t keep up with the rodeo goings-on these days.”
Everson flung his arm around Cisco’s shoulders, which required the man to make a pretty darn awkward reach up. “Cisco, you’ve got to get back on the horse, so to speak. You know?”
There were quite a few people gathered around Everson. From the corner of his eye, Cisco could see Vittoria’s tight-lipped smile. She was trying to pretend to be involved in this conversation, but it was obvious to anyone looking that she was not. He had a feeling he was absolutely going to pay for this incident later on.
“Sir,” Cisco drawled. He figured he could keep making a joke about this just as long as Everson wanted to keep harping on it. “My cowboy boots are hopelessly scuffed. I’ve put them in the closet and piled as much stuff on them as I can. I’ve got no intention of dragging them out ever again.”
“Scuffed cowboy boots?” Everson guffawed. He flung up his arms and waved to Cisco’s father. “Joe! Did you hear this nonsense? The boy says his boots are too scuffed to ride!”
“Then, I guess it’s a good thing he’s a Hernandez and can afford another pair!” Joe shouted back.
Cisco didn’t bother to hide his response this time. He let the eye roll go and groaned into the bargain. “Judge Everson, at some point, I really hope I can stand on my own two feet—without any cowboy boots—and not have to ask my daddy to buy me new shoes!”
There was a ripple of laughter around this side of the ballroom, and Cisco wondered if this was good or bad. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. He had tried to get out from under his father’s thumb. He was still trying. Unfortunately, it just felt as though pretty much everything in life was dragging him back in for more.
Everson let go of Cisco and started blabbing to the person nearest to him that he had known Cisco since he was a tiny buckaroo in his first pair of boots. Cisco gave a wave to the surrounding people and then began to stroll away with what he hoped was a very calm and practiced manner. He wanted high society. He wanted to be on the top rung of Denver’s social ladder. Unfortunately, when you started life as a Hernandez, this is what it took to crawl your way out from under your family’s shadow on the way to the top.
“What was that?” Vittoria hissed as soon as they were well enough away not to be heard. “You didn’t introduce me!”
“I didn’t have to,” Cisco pointed out. “You didn’t let me. You were too busy hurrying to introduce yourself. I could have told you not to mention his career or to pay him any compliments, but I honestly have my doubts that you would have listened to me.”
She started to speak but then seemed to stop herself. Cisco wished that he could see what was happening inside her head. Her expression seemed to freeze. It folded in on itself, and then he watched her smooth her face into a perfectly bland mask of total pleasantness. There was no hint of irritation or anything else. In fact, he could not have said if she were happy, sad, or something else entirely.
Then Vittoria took his hand and lifted it to her lips. The gesture shocked him. He could have sworn that she was angry with him only three seconds prior. Now her lips were whispering across the back of his hand in an almost provocative manner. He struggled with the urge to snatch his hand away.
She gave him a hooded bedroom gaze. “It’s becoming pretty apparent that you are quite a popular man here in Denver.”
Cisco didn’t know what to say about that. So, he said nothing. It was making him feel strange in a rather odd way.
“Oh, come on, Francisco!” Vittoria gushed.
She sidled in very close to his body and pressed her side to his front. He could feel the swell of her breasts beneath her dress. It was oddly unpleasant, and yet he could not get the feeling out of his head that he should be liking this. She was an attractive woman. She was everything that he was supposed to be “going after” if he was going to go after anything at all. And yet at the moment, Cisco didn’t want anything to do with her at all.
“Vittoria,” he began.
She put her index finger against his lips. “You’re right. I was brash and very forward. I do that sometimes when I want something very badly.”
His heart began to thud against his ribs. It was a vaguely uncomfortable sensation. It most certainly felt as if what he was feeling had nothing to do with
arousal or attraction. It was straight-up uncertainty. Much like a man who was attempting to cuddle up to a bear, he was feeling as though he might be in danger of getting his head ripped off without warning.
“No, Francisco,” she whispered. Placing her hand flat on his chest, she slid it down into his tuxedo jacket and moved her fingers toward his waist. “Don’t speak. I know that I’ve been a bad girl.”
Bad girl? What was she doing?
They were in a ballroom full of people, but she had backed him toward one of the columns draped in lengths of colored silk. There was an odd amount of privacy available in a crowded room. Much more than Cisco would have ever wished for in these circumstances.
Vittoria pressed herself against his chest. She slung her arms around his neck. Then she began to move her lips across his jawline. The tickling sensation sent a chill down his back, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. And there was absolutely nothing going on below his waist. He wasn’t that kind of man. He did not find himself attracted randomly to just anyone in a dress. Comfort was a big part of the arousal process for him, and right now, he was anything but.
“Vittoria,” Cisco said in a clipped tone. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing,” she laughed. “What else would I be doing, you silly, naughty boy?”
He looked toward the dance floor. More than half a dozen couples had moved out onto the floor and were now sashaying around in a very simple waltz. He firmly took Vittoria’s hand and then moved toward the floating wood floor in the center of the room. “Then, let’s do this right and actually dance.”
Her expression shifted again. He could not begin to tell what was on her mind or what she might be planning or thinking or even feeling about this moment. The only thing that he did know was that he felt safer with Vittoria out in the open where nothing could happen that would not be witnessed by the whole room.
