by Francis Ray
Inside, he nodded to the hostess, who smiled and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. Of course, all the employees knew him. Like the employees at Casa de Serenidad, Brandon had an extremely low turnover.
He heard laughter several feet away. His heart thumped. His stomach muscles tightened. Stella. She was still in town and still wreaking havoc with his life. He reminded himself to be cordial and hoped he could. She could set him off without doing anything. His own unhappy thoughts, the remembered disillusionment and betrayal, were never far from the surface.
He stopped at the side of the barouche booth and did a double-take. His ex was there, but not as he had seen her in years. The only makeup he could tell she had on was lip gloss. She wore a simple turquoise cotton blouse. Sitting in the booth next to Ruth, he couldn’t tell if she had on a skirt or pants.
“Paul,” Ruth said. “Glad you could join us.”
“Daddy!” Faith jumped up from a high-backed chair facing the booth and hugged him. “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“Hello, Paul,” Stella said.
He was unable to keep from looking at her. For once, she didn’t drop her head or fidget.
“Hi, Mr. McBride. Food’s here, ladies.” Brandon served the women their orders. “Mr. McBride, Faith ordered a steak for you. I didn’t want to put it on the grill until you were here.”
With Brandon looking at him, Paul realized he hadn’t said a word since he arrived. “Thanks, Faith. That’s fine, Brandon. Ruth. Stella.”
Stella blinked. He understood why. He hadn’t directly called her by her name in years. He slid into the empty booth on the other side of the women.
“I’ll get that steak right out,” Brandon said. “Anybody need anything?”
“I need for you to hurry back,” Faith told him.
He grinned. “You got it.”
“How are the renovations going, Paul?” Ruth picked up her glass of iced tea.
“Good. I got a lot done today,” he said. “Faith, the man picked up the trash. I pulled up the countertops and most of the kitchen tile.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow, ready to work,” Stella said, her voice unsteady.
Paul felt Faith’s eyes on his. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. There was enough time to have his revenge, if that’s what he decided. For now, he didn’t want to upset Faith any more than he already had. “Wear goggles, gloves, and no tennis shoes.”
“I will.” Stella’s voice became firm. “I picked up everything I need today, including a rental so Faith won’t have to bring me every day.”
“Mama, you didn’t have to do that,” Faith protested.
“It only makes sense, honey.” Stella placed her hand on her daughter’s. “We both know unexpected things come up when you’re running the hotel.”
“Your hand,” Paul said and he could have bitten off his tongue at his outburst, especially when the three women stared at him.
Stella lifted her hand and glanced at it. “I decided I couldn’t do a good job with long fingernails so I cut them. I tried before and it didn’t work out well.”
He didn’t want to remember, but he did. She’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him when they’d originally worked on the house. The first day she broke the nail on her ring finger. She’d assured him it was all right, but every once in a while he’d catch her looking at her hand. He knew why. She’d loved showing off her simple diamond ring. By the end of the week, she’d lost another nail. That night she’d clipped the rest off, saying she wasn’t letting her nails interfere with building their new life together.
The day she’d left to marry another man she’d placed her wedding rings on their bedroom dresser. He’d held them, then flung the rings against the wall. He never saw them again and figured Faith must have found them while cleaning up the room.
“Here you go, Mr. McBride.” Brandon placed the rib eye, seasoned green beans, loaded baked potato, and Caesar salad in front of his father-in-law.
“Thanks, Brandon. This looks good.” Paul tucked his head to say his blessing.
“It will taste even better.” Brandon sat down with his own steak.
“Isn’t he modest?” Faith quipped.
Everyone at the table laughed, including Paul and Stella. He realized for the first time in years that they’d shared a lighthearted moment. He glanced up. She stared at him with the same insight. And hope.
He lowered his head and cut into his steak. He wasn’t sure he could give her any more than he already had—a short reprieve from his animosity.
* * *
Stella didn’t want to read too much into Paul being cordial. He loved Faith and respected Ruth. Yet, somehow Stella found herself eating and enjoying her food. She was able to relax and sneak peeks at him.
At sixty, the same age as she, he remained a very handsome man. The graying hair gave him a distinguished look. His large hands were never smooth, but he’d always touched her with tenderness. She shivered and tucked her head. She loved him, wanted him, and was so afraid she’d return to New York lonelier than ever.
“Mama, the glass-front cabinets will be in on Monday,” Faith told her. “I can’t wait.”
Stella pulled herself back to the present. “I realize you wanted to have them stained the same color as the existing cabinets, but I recall seeing a beautiful kitchen with white cabinets, chocolate countertops, and a mahogany stained island. I could do them while your father works on the bathrooms.”
Excited, Faith turned to Brandon. “What do you think?”
“That you got your excellent decorating skills from your mother,” he told his wife. “But that’s a lot of work.”
“I’ll help.” Paul’s gaze slid from Stella to Brandon. “If the Corian doesn’t come in the deep chocolate you could change to white and stain the island chocolate.”
“Paul, that’s an excellent idea,” Stella said, overjoyed that he liked her suggestion and wanted to help. “I bet we could find a range hood to stain or paint chocolate as well. I could do a scroll with both of your initials intertwined on front. Every time you saw it, you’d remember your love.”
“Mama, that’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Stella swallowed and picked up her tea. Faith and Brandon didn’t need a reminder of what they had. For just a moment, she’d been thrust into the past again. She’d written her and Paul’s names in the concrete of the house’s foundation when it was poured. She’d forgotten about that until now … just as she’d forgotten a lot of things.
“Mama?”
Stella’s head came up. “What?”
“Brandon asked if you’d like dessert.” Faith made a face. “I shouldn’t, but I’m having cheesecake with raspberry sauce and lots of whipped cream.”
“I’m having the same.” Ruth looked at Stella. “If you have the same, we won’t feel so guilty.”
More than the dessert, Ruth was telling Stella to keep her head up and keep fighting for Paul. “You talked me into it.”
Brandon gave their orders to the waitress. “With lots of whipped cream on the cheesecakes.”
Stella tuned to Paul before she lost her courage. “What are you having?”
“Chocolate cake,” he said after a moment.
She smiled. “It was always one of your favorites. I must have baked dozens.”
Instead of replying, he glanced away. He probably thought she’d baked them for Trevor. “I haven’t cooked much since … since I went away.”
Paul’s head came up. His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
Stella was aware that Ruth was quietly talking to Faith and Brandon to give Stella and Paul some privacy. She wouldn’t shy away from the first question he’d asked about her life since their divorce. “It wasn’t expected or appreciated or wanted.” Her first dinner party had been a disaster. She shrugged. “And now, I’ve lost interest. It’s no fun just cooking for yourself.”
“Desserts.” The waitress served everyone, refilled tea glasses, and moved away.
&n
bsp; Stella picked up her dessert fork, very much aware that Paul openly watched her. She wished she knew what he was thinking.
* * *
Paul had always thought Stella’s life after she left him was one glamorous party and fabulous trip after another. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Not long after she’d left, he’d been channel surfacing and happened to land on one of those nightly entertainment programs. He’d seen Stella and her husband at some glitzy movie premier. He’d turned the TV off, gotten his truck keys, and ended up at a bar.
“This has been wonderful, but I have an early faculty meeting in the morning.” Ruth picked up her purse from the seat beside her. “Thanks, Brandon. Stella and Paul, I can’t wait to see the end results of the house. The love, pride, and joy you’re putting into the remodeling are priceless. I can think of only one thing that would top it.” She stood. “Brandon, please walk me to my car.”
“Sure, Mama.” He immediately came to his feet.
Faith rose to take his hand. “I’m staying here tonight. Mama, whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you back.”
“It’s a nice night. I can walk back by myself.” Stella scooted out of the booth and slung the wide strap of her big black purse over her shoulder.
Besides the big purse, Paul noticed she had on black jeans and flat shoes. He didn’t recall seeing her in either since she’d gone away. Usually he didn’t look at her.
Tonight he didn’t seem to be able to stop looking. With no makeup he easily saw the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the little lines around her mouth, her eyes, and on her forehead. Maybe it hadn’t been easy for her. However, he couldn’t forget that she’d brought it on herself.
“I can drop you off,” Ruth suggested.
“You live in the opposite direction.” Stella hugged Faith, Ruth, and Brandon. “I had a wonderful time. Good night.”
“Daddy, I’ll be back.” Faith caught her mother’s arm. “Despite what Mama thinks, she’s not walking back to the hotel alone.”
Paul sat there and watched them leave. He didn’t know whether to be insulted or ashamed. Did any of them actually think he was so petty as to let Stella walk back to the hotel alone when he was going to the same place? The answer wasn’t long in coming. Muttering under his breath, Paul left a generous tip and hurried after them.
Luckily, they were standing on the street in front of the restaurant. “I’ll walk Stella back.” He hadn’t meant to snap the words out and expected Stella to shrink inside herself the way she always did when he let his temper get the best of him.
“Thank you, Paul. Good night, everyone.” Stella started walking toward the hotel.
“I think you’re getting left, Daddy,” Faith said, affection and laughter in her voice.
Paul muttered under his breath and hurried after Stella. He’d gone several steps before he remembered he hadn’t thanked Brandon or said good-bye. He walked faster. The area was well lit and safe, but people were crazy these days. “Stella, stop.”
She stopped immediately and turned around. He didn’t expect the smile or the way it warmed his heart. “You stole my line.”
“You used to always wear those high heels and had trouble keeping up,” he said without thinking.
Her smile slipped a notch. “I’ve made some changes in my life, for the better I hope.”
What changes besides the clothes and no makeup, he wanted to ask; however standing on the street wasn’t the time. “We better get going.”
She fell into step beside him. Neither spoke on the walk to the hotel. He sort of expected the tension between them to return. It didn’t. He wondered why. He still hadn’t come up with a reason when they reached the hotel.
“Welcome back, Mr. McBride. Mrs. McBride.” John, the doorman, opened the glass entrance door.
Paul felt his slumbering anger begin to surface and clamped down on it. He’d never understood why she hadn’t kept her married name or gone back to her maiden name. Furious, he’d been tempted to contact a lawyer. He didn’t because he hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near her, let alone in court again.
His hands in his jacket pockets, they passed the desk and started down the hall to the outside courtyard near their rooms. Two couples walked ahead of them.
“I can’t believe Stella has the nerve to keep coming back here after the disgraceful way she behaved with that philandering movie producer,” a female voice said.
Beside him, Stella stiffened. This time she did tuck her head.
“Me either,” tsked the woman with her. “They made a fool out of poor Paul.”
“Francine, it’s none of our business,” one of the men said. “We’re here for a nice dinner.”
“I agree,” said the other man. “Some marriages just don’t last for one reason or another.”
“Not if the woman sleeps with—”
“That’s enough!” Paul snapped and advanced on the gossiping women. He was so angry he was shaking. He recognized the women. Both were notorious gossips.
The well-dressed women gasped and swung around, then looked anywhere except at Paul as if they didn’t know if they wanted to run or shrink in embarrassment.
“Paul—” one of the men began.
One hard look from Paul silenced him.
“What right do you have to be so sanctimonious and then dare dine at our restaurant?” He stepped closer. “Or did you conveniently forget this is a family-owned hotel? Stella will always be a part of this establishment.”
“Paul.” Stella caught his arm. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not,” he said without looking at her. “Francine and Doris, you are no longer welcome on our property tonight or ever again. I’m giving your names to the staff with strict orders if you come here again to call security to escort you off.”
“No, you can’t,” Francine pleaded.
“Please don’t,” Doris begged.
“You should have thought of that before.” Paul spoke to the men. “James, David, you’re welcome anytime.”
Paul turned his back on the crying women and took Stella’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Please, Paul,” pleaded Francine, the woman who had spoken first. “Our daughter’s wedding reception is scheduled here in June.”
“And you’ll have to explain to her why you won’t be here.” Paul tried to get Stella moving, but it was useless. He glanced from the concern in her face to the crying women. “They wouldn’t give you another chance.”
“I’m not them,” Stella said quietly.
The truth of her statement hit him. She’d never been petty, jealous, or gossipy, as the other women obviously were. He’d gone fishing and played cards with their husbands. As far as he knew, Stella had never called the women friends.
“As Paul said, I still have a voice in the running of Casa de Serenidad. I fondly remember Faith’s wedding and her beautiful reception here.” Stella’s gaze met Francine’s. “However, as executive manager of Casa de Serenidad, Faith has the last word and she dotes on her father.”
Francine cried harder.
“She also loves her mother and if I recall, has always spoken fondly of Jessica,” Stella went on to say. “Francine, you’re welcome here, and so are you, Doris.”
“Thank you,” the two women chorused.
James extended his hand to Paul and Stella. “Please accept my apology. Thank you, Stella, for being so gracious.” He looked at his wife. “If I ever hear you say one word about Stella or gossip about anyone else again, I’ll tell Jessica exactly what happened here tonight. Come on, we’re going home. I’ve lost my appetite.” Head downcast, Francine hurried after him.
David looked at his wife. “Doris?”
“Please accept my apology,” she said tightly.
“Stella might, but after embarrassing me one time too many, I’m not sure I can.” David extended his hand to Paul. “Good seeing you again. I still own the barbershop and like to fish. Call me if you have a chance.”
The handshake was firm. �
�I will.”
“Good night.” David glanced at his wife. “It will be a long time before I take you out to dinner again.”
“David, we go out to dinner at least once a wee—” she began, but her husband walked away. Head tucked, she quickly went after him.
“I’ll say good night,” Stella said.
“Why?” He said one succinct word.
“Because what I did was wrong,” she said. “They don’t know the details, so they assume the worst.”
Paul had as well. He’d almost gone crazy at the thought of her sleeping with another man while they were married. He wasn’t much saner once she’d married the snake.
“Thank you for walking me back, and for speaking up for me.” Her smile trembled. “I didn’t expect either.”
She walked away. He was pleased to see her back straight, her head up. “Don’t forget your gear tomorrow.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, a big smile on her face. “I won’t. Thanks again.”
Paul smiled after her, then he frowned and headed for his room. He needed to speak with Ruth. The idea that women were gossiping about Stella, and she apparently knew it and came back to Santa Fe anyway, made his heart clench for her.
CHAPTER SIX
Thankfully he had Ruth’s cell and home phone numbers. She answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ruth. It’s Paul,” he greeted, pacing in front of the kava fireplace in his hotel suite. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but something just happened and I needed to speak with you about it.”
“Is everyone all right?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Physically, yes.” He explained about him and Stella overhearing Francine and Doris gossip about her. “I don’t think this was the first time she’s been subjected to that kind of talk.”
“Sadly, it probably isn’t,” Ruth told him. “Unfortunately, there will always be people who judge others, but never take a good look at themselves.”
He had to ask. “Why did you remain her friend?”
