Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by Molly Cannon

  Sandra went to stand by Diego. “My lawyers assure me that it is.”

  “Your lawyer can go to hell. You can’t mean this, Diego.”

  He’d been her best friend for a long time. If he was going to let this woman who’d barely been his wife for a nanosecond march in and tear her life to shreds she wanted him to have the balls to acknowledge it. Etta stood up and looked Diego in the eye. “Diego, are you really going to treat me this way? Finale’s was our dream way back in cooking school. And it still is. I don’t understand how you can do this. We built this place together. You and me. Please tell me how this is fair?”

  First he stared at the floor, and then he turned his back, refusing to look at her at all. “It’s a good offer, Etta. Take it.”

  Etta took a moment to look around the small cramped office where they’d dreamed and scrambled and fought all kinds of ridiculous odds to make Finale’s a success. It was a butt ugly room, and it was stupid to realize how much she’d miss it if she couldn’t put a stop to this double-crossing scheme. Her heart was in her throat, Diego’s betrayal threatening to choke her, but she fought to appear calm as she folded the stinking offer and walked to the door. “My lawyer will be in touch.”

  As she walked out into the kitchen Diego and Sandra were on her heels. She spotted a big pot of gazpacho sitting on the serving table and headed toward it. Diego shouted, “Someone stop her! Don’t let her get to that soup!”

  But it was too late. She grabbed both handles and hefted the heavy pot up, turning to face Diego boldly. He flung his arms up in a defensive move while she turned and dumped the cold soup into a different pot.

  “This pot is mine, and I’m taking it,” she declared defiantly. Henry gave her a thumbs-up as she stalked out with the dirty pot under one arm.

  After dropping Etta at the airport Donny Joe went to see Craig Knowles of Knowles Hotel Management about the pool contract for his chain of hotels. He’d had a hunch he wouldn’t be hearing good news, and unfortunately his hunch proved to be correct. They were going with a bigger outfit. He thanked Craig for his time and left.

  While a phone call would have yielded him the same information, now he had another related errand to take care of while he was in the big city. He walked into the corporate office of Reflection Pools and told the woman at the front desk he had an appointment with Mr. Barnes.

  She buzzed him and a minute later was led back to his office. Mr. Barnes was a tall man with a salesman-like manner. He came around from behind his desk holding out his hand. As the two shook hands he said, “How do you do, Mr. Ledbetter? I appreciate you coming in.”

  “Let’s get down to business then. How much are you offering for my pool company?”

  An hour later he had a tentative agreement in hand. It was pretty much the same deal Charlie Biggs had been given. Except he would keep the maintenance contracts on existing clients, and he’d fulfill the few contracts for new pools he had outstanding, including the pool for the Hazelnut Inn. They agreed to keep his crew on and would pay him a nice check to walk away. It seemed like the only solution. He needed to provide for the men who worked for him.

  In the end he’d done the practical thing. A big part of him was disappointed. He couldn’t deny it. After all, growing the business into such a success had helped him define his value to the community. But he’d be just fine. If it came down to it, he could always sell that big old house he rattled around in and find something smaller. And the proceeds of the store would give him enough to live on.

  But since Etta had to get back to her restaurant as soon as possible, they would have to hire someone. Hiring someone meant spending more money. Money they didn’t have.

  Belle would come home soon, and she’d take Daphne off to wherever. Etta would go home to Chicago and get sucked back into running her restaurant. And he and Beulah? They’d be left alone to handle the day-to-day problems of the B&B. That was the truth of the matter.

  No matter what Etta said.

  Lately, he spent way too much time thinking about Etta Green. Somehow she’d gotten under his skin when he wasn’t paying attention. He’d enjoyed having Beulah at his house. She had a sharp wit that kept him on his toes and made him mind his manners. And Daphne was like a breath of fresh air, even if her curiosity could be a bit daunting at times. She asked more questions in five minutes than he could hope to answer in a lifetime. And Gabe liked her. That alone proved she was special.

  But Etta was a different story.

  One minute the woman could be trying, and difficult, and pigheaded, and he’d be ready to choke her. Every decision they made had to be discussed five ways to Sunday. It was exhausting. And, he had to admit, exhilarating.

  But then the next minute, he’d watch her with Daphne or Beulah and she’d be the picture of gentleness. The beacon of good humor that would carry them all through a difficult day. Calm and composed. Both sides drew him like a magnet. And he didn’t want to be drawn. He’d rather eat his hat. Damnation. His life was chaotic enough at the moment without adding that complication. In his head he understood that, but his body had different ideas.

  So, he’d made a point of going out at night to get away from her specifically, to keep a safe distance. But Lu Lu’s didn’t hold its usual appeal somehow. He’d have a few beers, dance a few willing women around the dance floor, and all the time he was thinking about the woman sleeping in the small room right off his kitchen.

  He remembered how it felt to dance her around the dance floor. How her body felt tucked up close to his chest, and his heart would take up an uneasy beat. He wanted to feel that again and a lot more. It was pathetic, beginning to border on obsession. At odd times he’d find himself staring at her mouth when she talked. Her lips were full and lush. And they drove him crazy. If he wasn’t careful, one day he’d just walk over and haul her up against him and spend the next hour or two wrecking her lipstick. That’s what he thought about late at night when he sat out on his back patio. He thought about Etta and let the cold winter air do its best to cool him down.

  The airplane ride back to Everson was delayed due to weather. The plane sat on the runway at O’Hare for an extra thirty minutes before take-off, and then circled the airport in Dallas for what seemed like hours before landing. Etta sat in a daze, squashed into the middle seat between two businessmen who talked about basketball, back and forth across her the entire trip. She didn’t care. She was numb to everything around her. They tried to include her in the conversation once or twice but soon gave up when her response would have made a bump on a log seem chatty.

  She’d called Beulah while she was still in Chicago, but didn’t tell her about her nasty encounter with the conniving, thieving newlyweds. She just told her she’d rent a car from the airport for the drive back to Everson, and not to wait up. Tomorrow was a school day, and the last thing she wanted was Beulah and Daphne out on the highways late at night.

  When she finally stumbled off the plane and wrestled the giant suitcase stuffed with most of her worldly possessions off the baggage carousel, she was so tired she could barely see straight. So, when she saw Donny Joe standing with a handmade sign that read “Etta Green” she told herself it was only exhaustion that made her happy to see him. He’d printed “The Hazelnut Inn” across the top, and that made her want to weep. She’d known they needed to settle on an official name for the inn. After all, it would help if they put a sign up somewhere so visitors had a hint when they tried to find the darn place. But she’d put it off like so many of the unfinished chores that tugged at her. And just like that, with a hand printed sign, it was settled. The Hazelnut Inn was the perfect name as far as she was concerned.

  “Welcome home, Etta.” As usual, his smile was disarming, and she didn’t even argue when he insisted on taking her suitcase. “It’s all part of the service, ma’am.”

  He herded her out of the terminal through the automatic doors. A cold wind assaulted them as they hurried toward the parking lot. When they reached his truck, he o
pened her door and helped her climb inside. Once he’d stowed her bag he got behind the wheel and started the engine.

  She shivered and held out her hands toward the warm air spilling from the heater vents. “Thanks for picking me up, Donny Joe. You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did. In fact, I think I could kiss you right now.”

  “I won’t stop you.” His green eyes glinted in the gray gloom of the truck cab.

  “It was just a figure of speech, silly. I mean I’m awfully grateful. That’s all.”

  He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Don’t go teasing me that way now—getting my hopes up just to let me down.” In a more serious voice he asked, “So, how was your trip? Did you get anything settled?”

  Etta took her time answering. “Let’s put it this way. I’m all yours, completely and without conditions, through the grand opening, and then who knows?” Maybe a lot longer.

  “There you go teasing me again.”

  “No, I mean it. A lot of things depend on when Belle decides to make her return, but even if she comes back tomorrow I plan to stay in Everson until we get the inn open and operating.” She’d made the decision on the flight to take things one step at a time. She could get Carlton Starling to look over the partnership agreement she had with Diego, and the offer he and his scheming wife had written up to buy her out. Hopefully, Mr. Starling would tell her they didn’t have a leg to stand on. In the meantime she would do everything in her power to get the B&B ready to open. “I like the name, by the way.”

  “Pardon me?” He cut his eyes from the road over in her direction.

  “The name on the sign. The Hazelnut Inn. I think it’s perfect.”

  “Oh, that name. Your grandmother said her father used to call her that. Hazelnut. And it always made her smile when she talked about him. It’s not my place to come up with a name, but when Beulah said you needed a ride home, I couldn’t resist.”

  “Well, I think we should make it official. I’ll order the signs tomorrow. And we’ll have to order stationary and menus and all sorts of things emblazoned with The Hazelnut Inn. It’s high time I took things seriously and started treating this like a business instead of Grammy’s flight of fancy.”

  He glanced in her direction again before returning his attention to the road. “I’m not going to ask what brought on this change of heart, but I can say I’m mighty glad to hear it.”

  “Thanks, Donny Joe.” After the day she’d had, the sincerity in his voice washed over her like a balm. At least somebody liked the idea of having her around. She leaned back against the worn leather seat, and watched the shadowy Texas landscape rush past the truck window as they drove down the highway heading out of the city and out into the country roads leading back to Everson. The headlights illuminated a fine mist falling from the night sky.

  “We may get some snow according to the weatherman,” Donny Joe said.

  “It was snowing in Chicago today. It must have followed me home.”

  His smile lit up the cab of the truck. “Why, Etta Green, did you just call Everson home?”

  With a resigned groan she realized the awful truth. “After what happened today, Everson may be the only home I have.”

  Chapter Twelve

  What the hell did that mean? It was all Donny Joe could do not to hammer Etta with a million questions, but he bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut. He’d known something was wrong. He’d known at the airport. As soon as he’d spotted her manhandling her suitcase like it was her deepest, darkest enemy, he’d known. She looked wounded. Something or someone had extinguished the go-to-hell spirit that always seemed to light her like a flame from the inside. Of course, that same spirit made him want to throttle some sense into her half the time, but now he’d give anything to see that spark back in her eyes.

  After she’d made that startling announcement, she’d withdrawn into silence, and he figured she could use the space. When he’d told her he was real pleased she’d be hanging around a while longer, he’d meant it. It also surprised the hell out of him. A few days ago he couldn’t imagine feeling that way. But he didn’t think she gave a hang how he felt right now. So, he drove, and watched the mist slowly change to snow.

  By the time they pulled up in his driveway the snow was falling harder. He hurried her inside and lugged her suitcase to the guest room she was using. When he returned to the living room she was on the couch, making a brave effort to hide her mood from Daphne while listening to every detail of her first day at school.

  Beulah stopped knitting long enough to say, “Daphne brought home a ton of forms for you to sign, Etta. I left them on your bed.”

  “Thanks, Beulah. And thanks for picking her up after school.”

  “No problem, dearie. I enjoy helping out.”

  Daphne said, “The kids thought your van was way cool, Cousin Beulah. They were jealous I got to ride home in it.”

  Donny Joe laughed. “Everything about Beulah is way cool. We all know that.”

  “Oh, go on, Donny Joe,” Beulah cackled, delighted with his teasing.

  Etta turned back to her niece. “Okay, so tell me everything. Was the teacher mean? Were the boys cute?”

  Daphne giggled. “Aunt Etta, don’t be silly. Boys are dumb. They make awful noises all the time, and they think they’re being funny, but they aren’t.”

  “Hear that, Donny Joe?” Etta asked. “Boys are dumb.”

  Donny Joe sat down in his recliner. “In defense of all the boys everywhere, I strenuously object.”

  Daphne backpedaled right away. “I didn’t mean you, Donny Joe. You’re really smart and sometimes you’re funny, too.”

  He laughed and popped up the foot rest on his chair. “And you, young lady, are obviously an excellent judge of character.”

  Etta rolled her eyes, but at least she was smiling. “So, tell me more about your day, sweetie.”

  Daphne snuggled into Etta’s side. “Rose is really nice. I get to sit behind her in homeroom. And at lunch she found me so I’d have someone to sit with in the cafeteria. And there are two other girls she sits with. They’re twins. Sawla and Sheila. They talk and talk, but they were nice, too. I can’t tell them apart, yet.”

  “Oh, good. Rose sounds awfully nice. The twins, too.” Etta had an arm around the young girl, holding on like she didn’t want to let go.

  “Yeah, that’s the part I hate when I go to a new school. Lunch time. Everybody stares at you like you’re a dork. But today was great. And Miss Lumpkins said I’ll be in all the top level classes.”

  “I’m not surprised, smarty pants. What about homework? Do you have any?”

  “I finished before supper. It was easy.”

  Beulah stood up, calling to Daphne. “I let you stay up until your aunt Etta got home, but now it’s time for your bath, young lady. Then we need to get our beauty sleep.”

  “Do I have to already? It’s early,” Daphne complained even as she yawned.

  Etta stood up, too. “Beulah’s right. Let’s go, young lady.”

  “You’ve had a long day, Etta. You stay here. We can handle this.”

  Etta looked unsure but her utter exhaustion must have finally won the battle. “Okay, but I’ll be in to say good night in a bit.”

  “Can I read until then?” Daphne asked.

  “Sure. That’s fine, sweetie.”

  “Goodnight, Donny Joe,” Daphne yelled on her way down the hall.

  “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” he yelled back. “Speaking of supper, have you eaten anything, Etta?” Donny Joe was halfway out of his chair and on his way to the kitchen before she could answer. “We had pizza earlier. Pepperoni and green olives. Or I have some homemade potato soup if you’d rather have that. It might be the thing to warm you up with this freezing weather.”

  She followed him into the kitchen. “Homemade soup? Wow. Did you make it?”

  “No, and be glad I didn’t. A friend always brings me some for my freezer when she makes a pot. She knows it’s my fav
orite.”

  “It seems like a lot of women bring you a lot of food, Donny Joe.”

  He’d never given it much thought. “It’s no big deal. Everson’s a small town. People take care of each other.”

  “And do you take care of all these women?”

  He could tell from her tone what she was implying, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Sure. I’m always happy to help out with an odd job when they ask. And if they want to pay me with food, that’s a good bargain for me.” He rummaged around in the freezer and pulled out a carton. “So, soup or pizza? Name your poison.”

  “Pizza’s fine. If you want to let the soup thaw, I’ll make a nice loaf of bread to go with it tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, man. Homemade bread? Now you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Give me a minute to go say good night to Daphne. Otherwise, if I know that child, she’ll read all night long.”

  “Sure, I’ll nuke your pizza while you’re gone. Beulah made a salad to go with it, too.”

  “Thanks, Donny Joe. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared down the hall.

  He pulled a plate and a bowl from the cabinet and placed them on the eat-in kitchen bar. He got out some silverware and rummaged around until he found a cloth napkin. He arranged the dishes on a place mat and poured her a big glass of iced tea. He didn’t question his sudden need to take care of her. If he knew anything at all about women, and he prided himself on being something of a specialist, he’d bet his bottom dollar that she could use a shoulder to lean on about now.

  She walked back into the kitchen. “Daphne must have been tired. She fell asleep holding her book. Poor kid. She’s had a rough week.”

  “She’s lucky to have you and Beulah taking care of her. Sit down. The pizza will be ready in a second.” He directed her to sit at the bar.