Radio Rose (Change of Heart Cowboys Book 1)

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Radio Rose (Change of Heart Cowboys Book 1) Page 12

by Stephanie Berget


  As he followed her out the door, Adam decided her orange hair wasn't as shocking as he’d first thought. Even the purple seemed to fit that twin’s exuberant personality.

  Mickie selected a key from the ring, fitting it into the lock on the first cottage then she stepped aside to allow Adam access to the room. As he moved through the door, he was astonished. The exterior was run down and shabby, but inside was fresh and hospitable.

  The girls drew him along to view the other rooms. Several had been repainted in soft colors, each room with a different flower theme. The Rose Room and the Lilac Room were completed, the rest in various stages of repair. New tile in the bathrooms and carpet in the remainder had been installed.

  “My boyfriend is a carpet layer so he found us remnants and did the labor for free,” Mickie said. “Stevie made the new bedspreads and curtains for both rooms, and I painted.”

  “I’m impressed with your workmanship but even more mesmerized by your ability to squeeze money out of my skinflint of a grandfather.”

  “We’re good at stretching a penny,” they said together.

  Before he said goodbye to Stevie and Mickie he arranged to meet them in seven days.

  Adam drove away feeling a mixture of excitement and depression. So far, he'd liked most of the people he'd met. If he messed this up, he’d not only lose the inheritance, he’d let these people down. They would lose their jobs and in some cases, their homes. He'd spent the last ten years living his life the way he wanted, shying away from any responsibility. Now he was taking five businesses and countless employees under his wing. God, I hope I know what I’m doing.

  Who was he kidding? He had never known what he was doing. Simon had drilled that into his head often enough. And, now, Rose, along with everyone else, was expecting him to produce a miracle.

  After visiting several of the businesses, Adam saw a pattern emerging. All the shops he’d studied so far would be profitable if they could get customers to this small town. The girls mentioned something about advertising with a doctor, but he’d been so thrown by their hair color and identical looks he hadn’t followed up on the subject. The doctor was something he and Rose could research. The topic was probably wishful thinking on the girl’s parts, but any chance of bringing business this way was worth investigating.

  The Tullyville Steakhouse was the last of the failing businesses. The way things were going Adam imagined the worst—a dirty prep area, bad food and a building ready to collapse on the diner’s heads. He wasn’t up to taking on another losing proposition. That would have to wait another day or several.

  He was both tired and spacy and ready for a nap, and he guessed Rose was too. She needed rest before she went to work, and he wanted to be awake to drive her tonight.

  After climbing into the car, he drove the few blocks to the floral shop and found Rose sitting in front of the building, listening to her iPod. She pulled out the earphones as he drove up.

  “Been waiting long?” Adam asked.

  “No, not long. I was going to walk to the motel, but this Adirondack chair called to me. I couldn’t resist sitting in the sun.” She stood and walked to the car. “What’s next?”

  “Why don't we take a couple of days off? We’ll quit working on this until Saturday night then I'll take you out to dinner at the Steakhouse. I hope it’s in better shape than the others.”

  “It’s a date.” She grinned as she struggled with her seatbelt. “And I still have enough time to take a nap before work then you won’t need to drive me.”

  “I know. You’re self-sufficient. You’ve proven that,” he said.

  Chapter Eight

  It was nine-thirty that night when Rose walked down the hall toward the front door, only to find Adam on the couch, waiting. Holy rodeo, Batman! With his form-fitting Wranglers, muscular shoulders beneath the western shirt and his shiny silver buckle, he looked better than any suit she’d ever seen.

  “I set my alarm so I wouldn’t miss you this time,” he said. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought a grin.

  She crossed her arms, tapped a toe and gave him her best, exasperated look, but secretly she was glad for the company. It was nice having him around.

  Better than nice. The thought of Adam leaving, sent a chill down her spine, followed by a shock of alarm. She was getting used to him. If he left . . . She stopped mid-thought. It wasn’t a matter of if, it was when he left. Then she’d be alone—again.

  On the ride to the station, Rose found herself preoccupied with what her life would be like without Adam. She shook her head, trying to purge those thoughts from her mind. His leaving was inevitable, she knew that, and worrying about the future would ruin the time they had left.

  As they entered KTLY’s small, squat building, Adam took the first door to the right and flopped on the couch in the outer office. He’d learned to make himself at home. By the time she hung her coat on the hook by the door, he was asleep.

  “This is Radio Rose, and it’s open-mike night. I’d love to hear your opinion on any subject to do with aliens. We are on the air, and I have control of the mute button, so remember to keep it clean.” She flipped the switch. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with tonight?”

  Rose opened her broadcast to the callers, and within a few minutes it had turned into a free for all. She just sat back and listened and listened and listened. Her only required task was to make sure the commercials ran at the right time.

  Everyone, it seemed, wanted to tell their story, and the calls were as varied as the colors in a peacock’s tail. Time flew by. She was enjoying herself, and before she knew it, Irwin was waiting for his turn.

  “How are you, Rose? How was the show?” Irwin asked.

  “The show was incredible, and I’m much better. How are you?” The nightly clean up dance began while the end-of-hour commercials played. Within minutes, Irwin was on his pillow, helping his listeners.

  Adam met her at the door, and they walked together to Miss Cool. The drive home was made in silence, Adam because he was trying to wake up, and Rose because she was trying to calm down.

  Rose sat still, her hands clenched in her lap, her mind racing. People just wanted someone to listen to them, she’d decided. Her free-for-all shows were always a hit. There had to be some way to tie that into Adam's businesses, but she was too tired to put the puzzle pieces together tonight.

  Together they were getting an overall view of the various businesses and the problems they presented. Business plans for the garage and radio station were easy to figure out, and for the rest, they just needed time and ideas. She had no doubt with everyone working together, they could figure out the solution.

  There was only one fly in the ointment, and that annoying, little black bug was Lillian.

  -#-

  Lillian arrived at ten a.m. The continuous pounding on the door hauled Adam from a dream about Rose, a hike in the woods and skinny-dipping in a waterfall.

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she said, wearing a patented Lillian smile.

  “Yeah, but I’m up now.”

  “Good, because I’m delivering last year’s books for the Steakhouse. I know you said to mail them, but it wasn’t far out of my way.” Lillian brushed by him a little closer than she needed to and sat on the couch.

  Adam still stood in the doorway. This wasn’t far out of her way? Nothing was on the way to Rose’s house. That’s one of the reasons he liked the location.

  Well, she was here, and he wasn’t awake enough to kick her out.

  Lillian chattered as she pulled a stack of papers from the envelope then handed them to him. Her hand lingered on his until he pulled away and moved to the other side of the table.

  Spreading the pages out, he found the one he wanted then ran his finger down a line of figures. “These are dismal. How could any business be this bad?” he wondered out loud.

  “Don’t take it so seriously, Adam. We’ll figure out a way to make it work. Why don’t we have dinner at the Steakho
use? We can brainstorm. My treat.”

  “Thanks for the invitation, but I have to take Rose to work.” He was going to have to explain again that they needed to keep a business relationship between them. She didn’t seem to be taking the subtle hints he’d been dropping. He’d have to make himself clear. But not now. He wasn’t up to the explanation.

  -#-

  If Irwin were a more demonstrative man, he would be doing a happy dance. It was Friday night, and the 1986 version of The Fly with Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis was on TV. He wasn't sure how they’d managed to improve on the original 1958 Vincent Price movie, but they’d tweaked the story line, and it worked.

  One of Irwin’s favorite scenes was playing. Dr. Seth Brundle tries to tele-transport a monkey, and it goes, oh, so, wrong. Darwin curled into his lap, ignoring Irwin’s movie of choice on a quest to find the most comfortable spot.

  “I wonder where they found these actors?” he asked the cat. The talent they’d used was phenomenal. He’d love to meet the casting director.

  Besides, he just loved Geena’s overbite.

  With a large bowl of Mike and Ike's and a glass of Orange Crush over ice, Irwin was in high heaven. He stroked Darwin’s black shiny fur and enjoyed the deep rumbling purr of his best friend.

  As Dr. Brundle and his assistant Veronica were looking at the wreckage in the transporter, Irwin’s doorbell rang, and rang and rang again.

  Crumb cakes! Why did people always come at the worst time?

  Irwin took a last longing look at his TV, walking backwards as he crossed the room. He was craning his neck so he could keep watching the screen, as he opened the door.

  “Excuse me.”

  Irwin turned, giving up on finishing a scene from one of the cinematic masterpieces of our time. Standing in front of him was a woman whose red hair definitely was not a color found in nature.

  Irwin smiled up at her and said, "Welcome to my humble abode, my lady."

  She stood stock still, staring down at him. When Darwin brushed up against her legs, she squeaked, jumped back then gave him a shove with the toe of her shoe. "I'd like to see Randall, if you please. Let him know Angel is here.” She squinted her eyes and looked him over from his Superman slippers to his nearly bald head. “Do I have the wrong address?”

  "You do have the right address, but you’re too late. I'm so sorry to be the one to impart this sad piece of information, but Mr. Cunningham passed away today." A look of utter dismay saddened Irwin’s face.

  She sucked in a gasp as the blood drained from her face. "No, not Randall,” she cried and clung to the door jam. “I just spoke with him yesterday.” She swayed and swiped at tears on her cheeks.

  Irwin reached into his vest pocket and handed her his handkerchief. He was always a gentleman, although sometimes he told a little white lie for the betterment of humanity. At least, that’s the way he saw it. Besides, she was lying, too.

  She really wouldn’t like Randall if she met him anyway. The real Randall would be such a disappointment.

  "Yes,” Irwin continued. "It was a tragic accident, most unexpected. The information about his wake will be in the paper on Monday."

  She turned and stumbled down the hallway, and he closed the door and went back to his movie. Thank goodness she hadn’t asked for specifics. At least she wouldn't be back until Monday when she realized he was on the air again. He probably should feel guilty, but these women really needed to learn to respect his privacy.

  If he was lucky, and he usually was, she would have found someone else to stalk by then. “Rest in Peace, Randall.”

  -#-

  Lillian had kindly offered to go with Adam to look over the Steakhouse, but he’d refused. She’d offered help over and over, and he’d turned her down every time. It was hard to become indispensable when Adam wouldn't let her be around him for more than half an hour at a time.

  She was going to have to rethink her strategy when it came to Mr. Howell’s grandson. Given his lack of suitable female companionship, he should have jumped at her advances. And yet, he held back. Maybe he just didn’t like women.

  What a shame, but there wasn’t another logical reason he’d push her away. She shifted her mind back to a subject she could control. She’d spent the last few days going over the books for the restaurant, and they were bleak. They were dismal. They were downright depressing.

  A Cheshire cat smile spread across her face.

  The company hadn’t made a profit for several years, and before that it had squeaked by, barely covering the expenses. It was a wonder it had stayed in business long enough for Simon to take over.

  By the time she’d finished, Lillian knew the operation inside and out. Old Mr. Howell had paid her well to spend as long as she needed to find a cook as incompetent as the one currently calling himself Chef Roy. Chef? That word applied to Roy made her snort.

  She’d dragged him out of a roadside diner situated next to a hole in the wall bar. Patronized mostly by bikers who were too drunk to taste the food, the cook was not only inept but had an ego the size of China.

  He’d rapidly brought the number of customers visiting the Steakhouse to a virtual standstill with dreadful food and a worse temper. By now the reputation of the restaurant was so bad it would take a miracle to turn the place around.

  None of the locals would venture near the eatery, and anyone else who had the bad fortune to eat there, didn’t make the same mistake twice.

  Lillian stacked the paperwork in the safe, locked it then headed for her room. Life was good, for now. She knew it wouldn’t last. Good never did.

  She’d gone from a wastrel of a father to a violent boyfriend. When she’d applied for the job of Mr. Howell’s secretary, she saw it as her way out of a life of squalor. Her employer had been meaner than both her father and boyfriend put together, but unlike them, he paid well. Money could buy a lot of things including turning a blind eye to a nasty temper.

  He also taught her two valuable lessons. Don’t let the bastards get you down, and do unto them before they do unto you.

  As she climbed into bed, she ran through the list of things she needed to do before she saw Adam again. Having complete access to all the information collected for each business gave her a distinct advantage. She could bide her time. Adam would come crawling to her for help soon enough.

  -#-

  “Are you ready for date night?” Adam called from the living room. Instead of making a daylight visit to the Tullyville Steakhouse, they’d decided to make it a night on the town.

  Date night? Not hardly. She’d been working hard to keep Adam at arm’s length. They would only be friends, just friends, even if it killed her. But she didn’t get many nights out and a night on the town with her friend could be fun.

  Rose even put on a dress. Not exactly a dress—a soft green T-shirt and a denim mini skirt, but that’s all the dressing up she could manage. The three-inch heels on her new sandals made walking a little difficult. As she practiced walking across the room, she glanced into the full-length mirror on her closet door. She didn’t look half bad.

  Adam leaned against the entrance to the hall and studied her as she came out of her room. “You should show off your legs more often, Rose,” Adam said. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

  “That was a back-handed compliment, but I’ll take it. It’s not like I’m swimming in them.” Her ankle gave a little wobble as she passed him.

  “If you wore short skirts more than once a year, you’d be surprised at the attention you’d attract.”

  “Aw shucks, mister, you’ll have a poor girl blushing.” She picked out a cream sweater for later in the evening and held out her hand to Adam. “Let’s hit the town, sparky.”

  Since the Steakhouse was only a block from the motel, Adam stopped by to introduce Rose to the twins. Stevie and Mickie couldn’t wait to take her on a tour of the renovated rooms.

  “Impressive! You’ve done so much with so little,” Rose said, peeking into one of the new bathrooms.
>
  Rose’s connection with the twins was instantaneous. Without a girlfriend, or any friend except Irwin for over three years, she was surprised at the instant bond she felt with these two. It was as if she'd known them all their lives.

  She’d missed the feeling of belonging. She’d told herself she didn’t need anyone. That she’d left those feelings behind when her father died, but the truth was she’d been lonely.

  Friends had been in short supply for Rose, mostly because she’d pushed people away to protect herself from disappointment.

  The memory of her heart shattering, breaking into so many pieces there was no way to glue it together again, scared her more than horror movies. Life was scary enough without putting herself in harm’s way. She might have to rethink her plan when it came to the twins.

  So they wouldn’t have to worry about a parking place, they left Miss Cool at the motel and walked through the soft evening to the restaurant. The night was mild for late February, and the stars were out in force. Rose couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone for a walk at night. She usually lived the life of a vampire—working, hurrying to work or dragging herself home from work when the moon was out.

  A rainstorm earlier this morning had left the air smelling clean and refreshing. As they came up the front walk, the scent changed. Stale, rancid grease overwhelmed the fresh breeze, assailing their nostrils.

  “Not exactly the perfect way to greet prospective customers,” Rose said waving her hand in front of her face, trying for clean air.

  “Aromatherapy at its worst,” Adam replied. “And it must work. There’s only one car out here. We could have driven.”

  He pulled the door open then stepped aside so Rose could enter first.

  The smell and heat were so strong she turned and stumbled out. “If you were a gentleman, you’d pave the way, see if life is possible in there.”

  “Oh no, ladies first,” Adam said placing his hand at the small of her back and urging her through the door.

 

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