by Francis Ray
He’d always been able to read her. Once that had pleased her; now it made her uneasy. Perhaps it was best this way. No matter how much she wished it were different, Brandon would never look at her with desire.
Faith accepted another hard truth. Brandon meant well, but his life was as busy as hers. Before his party last night she had seen him exactly twice in the last month. Once at the gallery opening of Phoenix’s sculptures and another time when Faith had eaten at his restaurant.
At the opening, he’d been catering and as busy as she had been last night. The only time they’d spoken was when he’d served her a drink. At the Red Cactus, he’d been circulating and chatting with the dinner guests as he did nightly. There had been nothing special about his dropping by her table as she dined with a girlfriend, Martina Royal. Martina was ten years older than Faith, happily married, with a beautiful daughter, yet she’d still stared after Brandon with a hint of longing in her dark eyes, the same way Faith and many of the other women had done that night.
Brandon was popular not only because he was so handsome it made a woman’s heart race just looking at him but also because he was a wonderful, caring guy. Even before his mother started her campaign to marry off her children, starting with the oldest, Brandon had topped the lists of many women as a prospective husband. Wealthy, successful, gorgeous. He could have his pick of women.
Faith had no experience enticing men. For as long as she could remember, boys and then men confided in her; they didn’t lust after her. And because so many boys were her friends, the girls gravitated to her to get to the boys. She’d like to think they stayed her friends because they saw something in her they liked.
After her parents’ divorce she’d been thrust into the role of managing the hotel, which meant long days and lonely nights. There had been no time to date even if she hadn’t had a crush on Brandon. Only recently had she been able to take days off, and that was to visit Duncan or Cameron to check on them.
Their father was off with his new passion, competition trout fishing. He’d seemed happy three months ago when he’d visited. At least he’d lost that haggard look he’d worn for so long after her mother left. Her mother’s marriage last year had sent him into a tailspin. He still loved her.
She loved another man.
Faith’s fingers ran over the family picture of happier times in the McBride family. She of all people knew the odds of a McBride finding happiness in a relationship. Her brothers and father certainly hadn’t.
She’d missed her chance with Brandon, although she couldn’t see what she could have done differently to change things. Going over it again and again wasn’t like her. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Faith. She wasn’t a woman who bemoaned what couldn’t be changed.
She’d do better by working on the new initiative for Casa de Serenidad to remain unique and innovative. She’d come up with the idea after viewing Phoenix’s breathtaking work at the gallery.
Flipping through the Rolodex, Faith picked up the phone and dialed, then sat back as the phone rang for a fifth, then a sixth time. She was about to hang up when the phone was picked up in the middle of the seventh ring. A deep male voice said, “Make it quick and make it good.”
She didn’t have to think long as to the reason she heard the impatience in Morgan’s raspy voice. She flushed. “This is Faith McBride. I can call back if this isn’t convenient.”
“Faith? Did Brandon check back into your hotel?”
“No.” She twisted uncomfortably in her seat. “I wanted to speak with Phoenix about a business idea I had.”
“Hold on.”
“Hello, Faith.”
Phoenix’s voice sounded breathless. Faith decided a quick out was needed. “A problem at the hotel just came up. Can I call you back tomorrow afternoon?”
There was a brief pause, as if Phoenix was trying to gather her thoughts. “I lose track of time in the studio. If it’s all right, I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Perfect.” Faith gave her the number. “Thank you. Good-bye.”
“Bye.”
“Come here,” she heard Morgan say just before the phone was disconnected.
Faith’s face heated. She quickly hung up her phone. Morgan hadn’t meant for her to hear those words filled with desire and so much love.
Too keyed up to sit, Faith rose and went to stare out the window at the small garden. Would she ever know the rapture of loving Brandon, the feel of his skin against hers, his deep voice hoarse with passion and need just for her?
Her arms wrapped around herself. She knew the answer before the question completely formed, and it brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes.
4
“I’ll have to tear out the entire wall to get to all the pipes to check them.”
“What!” Brandon shot up from his seat, disbelief etched on his face. He didn’t notice the diners turning; his attention was focused on Mr. Montgomery. Brandon had joined Sierra and his mother at the family table while Mr. Montgomery was upstairs.
Apparently used to the shocked response of customers, the plumber remained unfazed. “Wasn’t what I expected, either. The ones I saw were in pretty bad shape. The good thing is, the leak warned you before it burst. You might have had to shut down the restaurant. I can fix just what I see and hope for the best, but I wouldn’t take that chance if I were you.”
Brandon shuddered. Put that way, it brought everything back into perspective. “How long?”
“Three days. Maybe a week.” He shrugged thin shoulders underneath his coveralls and blue cotton shirt. “I won’t know until I finish tearing out the wall and see if any more pipes need replacing, but like I said, I suspect they will.”
Brandon was already shaking his head. “That’s impossible. I can’t be out of my place for that long.”
“You won’t have to if you can live without water,” came the plumber’s answer.
The man’s calmness made Brandon want to shake him.
“You’re welcome to stay with me,” Brandon’s mother said from her seat in the booth.
“You know you’re welcome at my place,” Sierra echoed.
The reason for him not staying at his mother’s or Sierra’s home was still valid. Sierra had on a different outfit from the nifty one she had on earlier. This one was lime green with a short jacket and slim pants. All that fussing with clothes would drive him crazy.
But the decisive point was her kitchen. The only appliances she had besides the built-in ones that came with her condo were an espresso machine Morgan and Pierce had given her and a juicer, a gift from a friend who was a vegetarian. The juicer was still in the box.
“Thanks, but I need to be able to cook, and I couldn’t do it in your kitchen.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll work something else out.”
“You’re turning your mother down?” Ruth asked, obviously annoyed with her middle child and ready to let him know it.
“It would be too good of an opportunity for you to pass up,” he frankly told her.
She had the grace to flush. “A missed opportunity can never be recouped.”
Brandon shook his head, then turned to the plumber and indicated the older man should take a seat in the booth. “Can I order you anything?”
Mr. Montgomery slid into the booth beside Ruth. “The missus did say she’d like some of your special fried catfish.”
Brandon signaled Elaine, a bubbly college student, over and put in the order. “When can you start?”
“I can start on the tear-out tomorrow. I should know by the end of the day what we’re looking at and the cost.”
“You’d better sit down, Brandon, when he tells you,” Sierra said. “One of my clients had to deal with the same problem in her rental property recently. She said for what it cost she could have renovated the bathroom twice over.”
Brandon pinned Montgomery with a look. “How much are we talking about?”
Montgomery’s gaze didn’t waver. “Ballpark, from one thousand
to three thousand.”
Brandon’s jaw became unhinged. He eased down onto the bench beside his sister.
Sierra whistled. “In that case, you might as well go for the remodeling and just bring your bathroom out of the nineteen-fifties. You could retile the floors and walls with marble, replace the fixtures with the nickel ones, get a decent three-light wall mount for over the sink, and have him install multiple jets in the shower or perhaps a Jacuzzi tub,” Sierra ticked off.
Ruth perked up. “I know just the designer.”
“I don’t need all that,” Brandon said. “I just want things repaired.”
“You’ll kick yourself later.” Sierra sipped her diet cola.
“Here is the order you wanted, Brandon.” The waitress placed the order on the table.
“Thank you, Elaine.” Brandon stood and handed the food to Mr. Montgomery. “Can you be here at eight in the morning to get started?”
Taking the bag, Mr. Montgomery stood. “Can you?”
Brandon didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be here.”
“See you then.” Tipping his hat, he moved away.
Brandon slid back into the booth beside Serena. “Yesterday started out with such promise, then turned bad when I came back to my place, and it just keeps getting worse.”
“Not necessarily,” Ruth said. “If you would just consider the decorator I mentioned, she could do wonders for your place.”
“I bet she’s single, gifted, and talented,” Brandon said mildly, too mildly.
Sierra sat up straighter.
“She happens to be single and has won several awards, but I’d think you’d want the best.” Ruth placed her hands on the table. “You are certainly proud of your culinary achievements.”
“Yes, but I’m not looking to get married.” He got to his feet. “I’m going to the kitchen and try not to stick my head underneath a running faucet.”
“Brandon, where are you going to stay?” his mother called after him.
“A friend’s place,” he tossed over his shoulder, although he had absolutely no idea who that friend might be.
“Faith, you won’t believe this,” Pamela said, hanging up the phone behind the four-foot-high oak reception desk.
“Try me.” Faith walked around the desk to stand beside the petite clerk. It was half past nine at night and things were finally settling down. The Mesa restaurant and bar were closed. The Pueblo restaurant for fine dining would soon follow. A few guests were clustered in the lobby or on the lit patio near the pool.
“That was Mr. Nolly’s secretary. He was the guest scheduled to check into the Conquistador Suite today for two weeks. She said he had an emergency and canceled his reservations.” The clerk picked up several slips of paper. “We shouldn’t have any problems finding another guest from the list of names given to us last night. Who should it be?”
Faith took the papers from Pamela. She knew who she’d like to give the room to. “I’ll take these to my office and go over the requests. It’s too late for anyone to check into the room tonight in any case.”
“You’re going to make someone very happy.”
Trying to match the clerk’s enthusiasm, Faith stuffed the papers into the pocket of her jacket and went to her office. Taking them out, she went through the names, once, twice. Last-minute cancellations were rare, since the hotel required forty-eight hours’ notice or one night of room rental was automatically charged. Rooms started at $290 a night and rose sharply. The Conquistador went for $675 a night. Casa de Serenidad prided itself on being worth every penny.
She laid the requests aside. There was no rush to call, she told herself, very much aware of why she was procrastinating. Brandon.
She hadn’t been able to get him off her mind. Usually she was a woman who took advantage of opportunities when they presented themselves. She didn’t usually stand around and wring her hands. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t get Brandon in her arms. She’d done enough of that.
If she wanted him, she’d have to do something about it.
Before she lost her nerve, she went into her bathroom to freshen up. It was too late for dinner, but perhaps she and Brandon could share a dessert.
Brandon had a place to stay. In fact, he had several.
Marlive, his head waitress, had overheard a bit of the conversation and mentioned it to another waitress. And, like wildfire, the news had spread to his staff and then to friends. While he was thankful for the offers, he hadn’t stayed with anyone past one night since he was a freshman in college. He might have grown up with three brothers and a sister, but he liked his space. Plus, he wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around in the morning. Sierra called him a grouch.
He was grateful that only a few customers remained, so he didn’t have to continue to turn down invitations from women as well as men. He was returning from the front when Glenda Garriety waved him over. His steps didn’t falter, but he wanted to.
Glenda was pushing fifty and trying desperately to be thirty, with a nip here and a tuck there. Sitting at the table with her was her younger sister, Sonja. The exact age difference depended on who you asked. Both women wore summer dresses that bared their shoulders in the bright colors the sisters were partial to. Their dyed hair was a shocking red.
“Brandon, I heard you’re in need of a place to lay that gorgeous head of yours. You know you’d be more than welcome at my place,” Glenda said slowly, with just a hint of the South Carolina accent from her home state.
“Or mine,” Sonja added.
Brandon could almost hear the women thinking, And in my bed. The widowed sisters lived next door to each other, owned a florist shop, and liked chasing men in their spare time. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind that if he took them up on their offer, before the night was out one or both would try to find a way into his bed.
“Thanks, ladies. If things don’t work out, I’ll give you a call.”
Both giggled like schoolgirls and batted their long eyelashes. Brandon started back to the kitchen but looked around when he heard the hostess greet someone. Seeing Faith, he smiled and went to meet her.
“I’ll take it, Carol,” he said to the hostess as he took Faith’s arm. “Glad you could make it. What will you have?”
“Aren’t you closing shortly?”
He didn’t have to glance at his watch to know they were closing in less than fifteen minutes. “For you, the kitchen is always open.” He pulled out a chair from a table for two. “What are you hungry for?”
Faith ducked her head for a moment. “I thought we could have dessert.”
“Sure. I was just finishing making the rounds. Do you know what you want or do you need a menu?”
Faith placed her small purse on the far side of the table. “Surprise me. Then I can see if your pastry chef is in the same league as Henrí.”
Brandon flashed a killer grin. “No, but he’s a close second.”
Returning Brandon’s smile, she placed her elbows on the table, laced her fingers together, and propped her chin on top. “You?”
He bowed his head. “Me.”
She chuckled. “Take care of your customers. I’m fine.”
Brandon straightened. “What will you have to drink?”
Unfolding her hands, Faith wrinkled her nose. “Diet cola, and don’t you dare laugh like Cameron and Duncan always do when we’re out.”
Lines marched across Brandon’s strong brow. His hand came back to rest on the top rung of her chair. “Why would I do that?”
Surprise widened her eyes. “It’s counterproductive and nonsensical to mix a diet drink and a high-caloric dessert.”
“You’re a woman. You’re allowed,” he said. “Be back as soon as I can.”
Faith watched Brandon walk away and sighed. He seemed to understand women so easily. It was no wonder that so many were after him.
“Hi, Faith.”
Faith looked up and saw the Garriety sisters. “Hello, Glenda, Sonja.”
“Don’t usu
ally see you in here,” Glenda said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Another woman who wanted Brandon. “You must be regulars,” Faith countered. In management she’d learned not to volunteer information.
“Every Wednesday and Sunday night,” Sonja said proudly.
“That would certainly qualify you as regulars,” Faith said.
“Come to try your luck with Brandon?” Glenda asked, watching Faith closely.
Faith couldn’t help the start of surprise. Had she been that obvious? “What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.
Both women stared at her a long time before Glenda leaned over and whispered, “Owning that hotel, it would be a snap to offer him a room while his bathroom is being repaired.”
Faith let out a relieved sigh. “The plumber was scheduled to repair the problem this morning. Brandon doesn’t need a room.”
Glenda sat in the chair across from Faith. Sonja appropriated one from the next table. Both women scooted closer to Faith, then braced their arms on the table. “You don’t know?”
“Of course she doesn’t, Glenda,” Sonja answered. “You can see it on her face.”
“Could one of you please tell me what is going on?” Faith asked, but her heart was already racing with excitement.
“Old Man Montgomery told Brandon that it might be anywhere from a few days to a week before the repairs are complete,” Glenda offered. “A lot of us figure it’s a good time to offer Brandon a place to stay. Of course, if someone walks in their sleep we’re all consenting adults here.”
Both women giggled.
“Did he take you up on your offer?” Faith asked, hoping her dread didn’t show on her face.
“Turned us down flat, but he did it with a smile. You might have better luck.” Glenda leaned closer. “About time one of our own got a crack at one of the Grayson men.”
