by Francis Ray
“Yes, we are. You’ve answered all my questions, but I’m still not sure,” Phoenix said slowly.
“Just think about it, and let me know in a couple of weeks,” Faith said. “If you say no, I’m going to ask another artist.”
“You’re not giving up.”
Faith smiled. “The McBrides are a stubborn bunch.”
“So are the Graysons, and I thank God for it.” Phoenix stood and extended her hand. “Thanks for the refreshments. I’ll think about what you said.”
Faith clasped the unexpectedly strong, calloused hand in hers. “Please do, and thank you for coming. I’ll see you out.”
“There’s no need. I can find my way.” Phoenix went to the door and stopped. “We’re having a few friends over Sunday evening around six. Why don’t you come by?”
Faith was touched by the invitation and saddened that she couldn’t accept. “Every ballroom is booked for that night. I need to be on hand.”
“What if I told you Brandon has promised to stop by?”
Caught off guard, Faith’s eyes widened a fraction. She hadn’t thrown Phoenix off. “You must have been very persuasive. He almost never leaves his restaurant during business hours.”
“He felt sorry for our guests if Morgan had to grill,” Phoenix said with mild amusement.
“He would. I really wish I could drop by, but I can’t.”
“If things change, please know you’re welcome.” Phoenix reached for the doorknob. “Are you a gambling woman?”
Faith frowned. “Not really.”
“Too bad. I hear since I hadn’t participated in the pot for a blowout bachelorette party and married Morgan, the pot didn’t dissolve. It now applies to any Grayson male,” Phoenix explained. “I thought you might want to pay the thirty dollars and toss your name in the pot.”
Faith had already put her name in, but she didn’t want anyone to know. “Brandon and I are just friends.”
“Of course you are.” Phoenix finally opened the door. “Think about the invitation. If you come, you’ll get a chance to see more of my work.”
Again Faith was caught off guard by the unprecedented offer. “That’s quite an enticement.”
“Just like certain men.” Phoenix studied Faith for a long moment.
Worry caused Faith’s stomach to clench. She didn’t want Brandon to even think she was interested in him. “Phoenix, Brandon is going through a lot now. An unfounded rumor might make it worse.”
“I understand better than most about keeping secrets,” Phoenix said softly. “But I have learned that the Grayson men are special and worth fighting for. Waiting too long could prove disastrous. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Phoenix.” Faith watched Phoenix walk away, then closed the door. The other woman would keep her secret, but she’d also given Faith a warning that she was going to heed.
Time to put Phase One into action.
Sitting behind her desk, Faith picked up the phone and dialed. After being passed through a succession of people, she was finally connected.
“Faith, how are you?” asked a deep, sexy voice that merely hinted at the magnificent owner.
“Hello, Blade. I need a huge favor.” You didn’t waste the time of a man like Blade Navarone.
“Name it,” came the quick reply.
Faith relaxed back in her chair and did just that.
7
Brandon wasn’t a happy man. He wasn’t the kind to take it out on his employees. They understood as much, but they still gave him his space as he worked like a man possessed in the kitchen that night. When he was worried about anything or wanted to think, he cooked and cooked and cooked.
At the moment, he was putting the finishing touches on tequila-flamed mangoes. The baked mangoes spread with brown sugar were waiting on the serving cart along with two huge bowls of homemade ice cream enriched with sweetened condensed milk.
Pouring the heated tequila over the mangoes, Brandon firmly kept his mind on the process and not the destruction of his bathroom. As he’d told his staff, personal problems should never interfere with a guest having a perfect dining experience. He lit the dish with a long match. Flames swooped upward.
“It’s ready,” Brandon told the waiting waiter. He’d often flambéed at the table, but tonight he wasn’t in any mood to be on the floor.
“Looks good, Brandon.” Luis pushed the cart from the kitchen, the flames on the mangoes six inches high. By the time he reached the table they would be a flickering flame.
“Thanks,” Brandon replied absently, his attention already on the sea bass he was searing. He flipped the meat over, then slid it onto a plate and garnished it with parsley. Waiting hands picked up the dish and headed for the stainless-steel swinging doors.
“Brandon, the man I just served the flambé to asked to see the chef. Table eight.”
Never looking up, Brandon stirred the vegetable mix of fresh green beans, baby carrots, broccoli florets, and new potatoes. “What about?”
“He didn’t say.”
Brandon scooped up the vegetables onto two plates. “Is he with a woman?” As a rule, men didn’t order flambé desserts, and table eight was secluded and usually reserved for a couple wanting to be alone.
“Yes. I think I’ve seen her in here before.” Luis shook his head. “Haven’t seen the man, though. I’d remember him. He’s courteous, but there’s something about his eyes that makes you not want to turn your back.”
“I’ll protect you,” Marlive said as she passed with her order.
Luis threw her an affronted look. “I can take care of myself.”
Good-natured bickering away from the customers was an everyday occurrence at the restaurant, so Brandon ignored the two. The man might want to complain or thank the chef, but the bottom line was probably to impress his date. “Please tell him I’m busy and will come out as soon as I can.”
Luis hesitated.
“Problem?” Brandon asked, a stack of white plates with a red cactus painted in the center in his hands.
“No,” the waiter said, and left.
Brandon set the plates within easy reach of the three industrial stoves and checked the monitor to see which dishes were next. Rare Angus T-bones.
“He wants to see you now.”
Brandon didn’t like pushy guests, but he’d learned long ago they were unavoidable. “Tell him I’m busy; then see to your other guests. You don’t have time to be his personal messenger.”
A mixture of relief and dread crossed the young man’s face. Again the young man hesitated. Brandon wasn’t used to his staff not immediately following direct orders. Concern drew his brows together.
Marlive breezed back in and sighed dreamily. “Luis, I’ll take table eight.”
Brandon didn’t have to think long to know the reason. Marlive might be happily married, but she was fond of saying that as long as she had blood running through her veins she was going to appreciate good-looking men.
Luis looked as if he was considering Marlive’s offer, then glanced at Brandon. “I can handle it.”
“Oh, well,” Marlive said. “Faith said to tell you hello.”
“Faith’s here?” Brandon asked, surprised. That morning at breakfast she’d said she’d be busy.
Marlive sighed dramatically again. “She’s with the gorgeous hunk at table eight.”
“What?”
Brandon’s hard expression whipped the dreamy expression from Marlive’s face. “I saw her and went over to speak, Brandon. That’s all. I’m happy here.”
Realizing she had misunderstood the reason for his reaction, Brandon chose to reassure without explaining. “I know you’re loyal.” He studied the orders on the monitor and decided it wasn’t anything his staff couldn’t handle. Untying his apron, he hung it up and washed his hands. “I’ll be on the floor.”
Brandon was concerned about Faith. Was the man she was with the reason she wanted to know how to get a man? The thought disturbed him.
He hit the dou
ble steel swinging doors with more force than intended. With each step he worked to lessen the tension in his body and face. He set the limits at his restaurant. If he expected his staff to follow him, he had to be a good leader and do as he said. One of the many things his older brothers had taught him.
He greeted regulars as well as those he didn’t recognize as he made his way to the table, the one usually meant for lovers. His tenseness returned.
He saw them before they saw him, which was probably because both their arms were on the table as they leaned across it as if they couldn’t stand to be separated.
“You wanted to see me?”
Faith jumped and straightened. The man with her slowly turned, his gaze sharp and assessing. Brandon recalled Luis’s words and thought them apt. There was something lethal about this man Faith was with.
“Hello, Faith. I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Brandon said mildly.
“I was talked into it.” She sent her dinner companion a sweet smile. “I’m glad he did. Dinner was wonderful.”
“Then why did you want to see me?” Brandon asked, his voice tight despite his attempt for it to be casual.
“I wanted to see you,” the deep voice said.
“Brandon, meet Blade Navarone,” she introduced them.
Brandon couldn’t help the start of surprise. Blade Navarone was reported to be one of the richest men in the country. He and Brandon’s cousin Daniel Falcon were friendly business rivals until Daniel married Madelyn Taggart and sold many of his companies in order to stay home with their son. The man who had been waiting to snap them up was Blade Navarone, an enigma. He’d come out of nowhere about fifteen years ago and proceeded to make a fortune.
“Welcome to the Red Cactus,” Brandon finally greeted Blade. “What brings you to Santa Fe?”
Blade reached his large, manicured hand across the table. Faith instantly put hers in his. “A man doesn’t need a reason to visit a beautiful and desirable woman.”
Faith tucked her head. “Blade.”
Brandon had the strangest urge to snatch Faith up. She didn’t have the experience to deal with a man like Blade. “I wasn’t aware that you two knew each other.”
“You know all of Faith’s acquaintances?” Blade asked, still holding Faith’s hand.
Brandon knew a challenge when he heard it. “The important ones.”
“Brandon,” Faith scolded him while acting like a teenager on her first date.
Dark eyebrows rose; eyes blacker than any midnight narrowed and darkened even more. “It seems not all of them.”
“Why did you want to see me?” Brandon asked impatiently.
Releasing Faith’s hand, Blade leaned back in the chair, making it look small. He was a big man, but with muscles, not fat. “To hire you.”
Of all the reasons Brandon expected, that was the last one. “No, thank you.”
“You haven’t heard my offer yet,” Blade said in a way that implied most people had a price and he usually found what it was.
“I’m chef and owner. This is more than a restaurant to me.” Brandon slanted a look at Faith. “She should have told you.”
“I did,” Faith said. “Since you’re so fond of trying to steal Henrí, I thought it might be good to see the tables reversed.”
“Since I’m staying with you, I promised not to.” Brandon had no idea why he phrased the words so suggestively.
Faith flushed.
“As a guest at the hotel,” Blade said. “Faith wouldn’t turn her back on a friend.”
“I’ve never heard her or her brothers mention you before,” Brandon said, aware his comment was just as challenging and baiting as Blade’s had been earlier.
“She hasn’t mentioned your name, either. Well, we’ve kept you long enough.” Removing his wallet, Blade placed enough money on the table to cover the meal three times over. It was an outrageous tip, one that would send Luis, a college student, into a fit of glee. It was a tip guaranteed to impress a woman.
Standing, Blade held Faith’s chair. Brandon’s annoyance increased when he saw that Blade was two inches taller than him. “Good night.”
“Good night, Brandon,” Faith said.
Brandon didn’t like it that Faith was leaving with the man, but there was little he could do about it.
Faith waited until she was in the backseat of the Mercedes before she clapped her hands in joy. “Thank you, Blade. You were magnificent.”
“You’re sure this is what you want?”
“Yes,” Faith answered without hesitation as the chauffeur pulled away from the curb.
Blade took her hand. His was rough with callouses. “Love can hurt.”
Faith’s hand covered his. She ached for him, but they had promised themselves that they would never speak of the past. “It doesn’t have to. I’ll take the chance of winning Brandon’s love.”
The sides of Blade’s sensuous mouth lifted slightly, as if unfamiliar with a smile. “You were always stubborn.”
“Determined.”
He nodded. “I’ve made arrangements for all that you asked. I’ll be unavailable for the next couple of weeks.”
“Going after another company?” she asked as the car pulled up in front of her hotel.
“In a manner of speaking.” Opening the door, he emerged, then reached back to help her out.
Faith noticed the chauffeur had gotten out as well, his gaze constantly searching the area. If she hadn’t known, she would have never guessed that the tailored black jacket hid a 9mm, just as Blade’s jacket hid his. Neither would be caught off guard again.
Memories for the reason behind their caution tugged at her heart and almost brought tears to her eyes. One look at Blade’s determined face and she knew he wouldn’t want her sympathy now any more than he had then. She hugged him and was unsurprised to feel his hands briefly touch her, then fall. At least he had allowed that little bit of warmth. He hadn’t accepted even that much in the past.
He stepped back. He couldn’t move past the tragic and senseless deaths of those he loved more than his own life. He didn’t want comfort. Revenge certainly hadn’t helped. Faith wondered what would heal him and make him the laughing, caring man she’d once known. “Thank you.”
“I would do more. Good-bye, Faith.” He stepped back into the car. After the chauffeur took one last look, he got in and drove away.
“God, please help him.” Turning, Faith went into the hotel.
Phone in hand, Brandon paced. Neither Cameron nor Duncan answered his cell. There was another man who would have the answers he wanted. The answering machine clicked on and Brandon barely kept from throwing the phone against the wall.
“Daniel Falcon.” Then the tiny voice of a child said something like “Da-yel Junjer.” There was a giggle followed by the deeper laughter of a man.
Brandon scowled. When it came to his son, Daniel was putty in the little boy’s hands. Brandon deactivated the phone and admitted they all were. Next to Morgan and Phoenix at their wedding, Daniel Junior had been the star attraction. Brandon didn’t know anything about children, but Felicia and John Henry, proud grandparents that they were, were quick to point out that their very advanced fifteen-month-old only grandchild had been walking since he was eight months and now had a four-word vocabulary, could swim and turn on the computer.
Brandon glanced at the clock. Nine forty. He gave up. His brothers as well as his cousins and their extended family, the Taggarts, didn’t answer the phone after eight thirty. They might not be available, but the computer was available 24-7.
He’d check on things downstairs, then turn on the computer in his main office on the first floor. He was halfway out the door when another thought struck. He dialed the hotel.
“Casa de Serenidad, House of Serenity. Good evening; may I help you?”
“Is Ms. McBride in?”
“Who’s calling, please?”
He hesitated. He didn’t want Faith thinking he was checking up on her. At the same time, h
e didn’t want Blade to take advantage of her. “A guest.”
“Your room number, sir?”
“Never mind.” Frustrated, Brandon hung up the phone. He’d do a run-through downstairs, then drive over to the hotel and check. No man was taking advantage of Faith.
Faith was smiling as she strolled through the lobby of the hotel. Her plan was working. She’d just gotten off the phone with one of the hotel operators. Janice had been concerned because a man who said he was a guest had called asking for her. When Janice had asked for his room number he’d hung up.
Faith hugged her notepad closer to her chest. It had to have been Brandon, checking on her. He cared. She hadn’t missed that brief flare of anger and challenge in his eyes. Still smiling, she briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, Brandon stood a short distance away.
He looked as surprised as she must have looked. He stepped back as if to leave. She quickly went to him. “Is everything all right at the restaurant?”
“You working?” he asked.
Faith decided to let him evade the question. “Yes.”
“Your date left already?”
“He has a business meeting early in the morning and had to fly back,” she answered.
“Too bad,” Brandon said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to hold back the question any longer. “And don’t try to evade me this time.”
“Blade left before I got his card,” Brandon told her. “I have a buddy who might like the job offer, that’s all. Uh, I guess I’d better get back to the restaurant.”
She didn’t believe him. “You’re sure that’s the only reason?”
“What other reason could there be?” he asked. “Night.”
Faith watched his long-legged stride carry him away. The earlier happiness she’d felt faded. Brandon had come to check on her, but it had been as a friend, not as a man who was interested in her. Only time would tell if he could see her differently. Unfortunately, time was something she didn’t have.
