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Honey! Frankie came unglued. Who did he think he was?
“I’m busy, Spence.”
“Cook still making those special hash browns with the green peppers and onions?”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Her legs started to shake, knocking together at the knees. Worse, Tia Maria had just entered the front door, accompanied by a well-dressed man Frankie hadn’t seen before. She needed to get Spence out of there.
“I’ll have the two-egg special, over easy with wheat toast and a side of the special hash browns.” Turning his coffee mug right side up, he said, “Seeing as you have the pot, I’ll take a shot.”
She wanted to strangle him for too many reasons to count. Not the least of which was the last time he’d left, he’d given her all of fifteen hours’ warning. She’d told him to stay away for good. To never come back. Find someone new who could tolerate his wandering ways.
And, he had. The first two, anyway. Maybe the third. She hadn’t inquired.
Everett didn’t bother hiding his stare. Frankie sought out her sisters, who looked on with slack-jawed wonder. Probably half the café customers were observing Frankie and Spence. Those who knew their history were relaying it to their neighbors in hushed whispers. If Frankie strained, she swore she could hear them.
“Sweethearts since high school.”
“He’d leave for some rodeo or ranch job, then appear on her doorstep six months later.”
“She always took him back. Well, except for that last time. Heard they had a lulu of a fight.”
“Do you think he’s the father of her girls?”
“She refuses to say who is, but my money’s on him.”
“Does he know?”
“If not, he will soon enough. No one keeps a secret in this town.”
That last statement—imagined or real—sent Frankie into a state of panic. Coffee sloshed out of the pot and landed on her shoe, the result of her unsteady grip.
“You need to go. Now,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
Spence’s grin didn’t waver. “Can we talk first?”
He’d heard about the girls! She should leave for the preschool this very instant, not wait for Sam. At the least, she needed to call her youngest sister and warn her to...what? Pack the girls’ clothes so that Frankie could whisk them away?
“I owe you an apology,” Spence said, his tone sounding contrite in that boyish way of his. “More than one. I’d like the chance to issue them. That’s all.”
Okay. Perhaps he didn’t know. Frankie’s head swam. This was confusing. And alarming. She’d considered telling him about the girls a thousand times, always talking herself out of it before placing the call.
Was fate giving her a push, reminding her of all the good reasons she should inform Spence he was a father? Only one way to find out.
“I’m off at three,” she said.
“I just so happen to be free at three. I’ll pick you up.”
“No way. I’ll meet you. Six o’clock at the park.” And don’t talk to anyone in town between now and then.
His face lit with the same smile she remembered from high school, when they’d been assigned as lab partners in chemistry class, and he’d stolen her heart. He’d yet to return it, even to this day. In her weaker moments, she admitted she had yet to reclaim it.
Frankie started to speak, only to be cut off by the busboy tapping her on the shoulder.
“Tia Maria says for everyone to meet her in the office.”
The moment was here. The announcement naming her the new manager. Struggling to control the myriad emotions whirling around inside her, she shakily poured Spence’s coffee.
“Stay out of trouble,” she warned him before following the busboy, remembering at the last second to return the pot to the warmer.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Spence called after her, laughter in his voice.
Frankie balled her hands into fists. He would have to be every bit as good-looking as always. Tall, broad-shouldered, and perfectly proportioned in all the right places.
“A little advance notice would have been nice,” she grumbled to herself while untying her apron. She refused to be wearing an orange juice stain the size of a saucer when she accepted her promotion.
* * *
THE ENTIRE STAFF on duty, including the cook, had gathered in the area outside the manager’s office. Standing beside Tia Maria was the well-dressed man Frankie had noticed earlier. Who was he, and why was he there?
The café owner’s wrinkled face glowed as her glance encompassed everyone there. “I’ll make this short. I don’t want to keep the customers waiting.”
Frankie’s stomach churned. Damn Spence for showing up today of all days. She needed to be on her toes. Ready and alert. Not distracted by the thought of him sitting there.
Tia Maria’s gaze fell on Frankie, who went still. After a brief pause, it continued to the next person. “As you know, I’m retiring at the end of the month, and I promised to announce the new manager today.”
Frankie twisted the apron between her suddenly sweaty hands.
Tia Maria took the man’s arm and nudged him forward. “This is my nephew, Antonio. He moved from Las Cruces to take over for me. I’m very pleased the Cowboy Up Café will remain in the family.”
Frankie went numb all over as seven heads instantly swiveled in her direction. They’d all expected her to get the promotion, too.
She reached for the wall, feeling slightly unbalanced.
“I’m sorry,” someone near her murmured.
“Me, too.” Had she said that out loud? Her mouth didn’t seem to be working correctly. “Damn.”
She definitely said that out loud, though softly. She’d been counting on the promotion and the raise. She deserved it, after all her years of loyal service. For Tia Maria to bring in a family member without telling Frankie was unfair. Not to mention total nepotism.
Drawing in a breath, she straightened her spine, acutely aware of the stares aimed at her.
“Congratulations and welcome,” she said, with as much dignity and calm as she could muster. Then she spun on her heels, not caring if she received a reprimand later. She simply would not cry in front of these people.
Entering the dining area, she fully intended to bury herself in work as a defense against her acute disappointment. Naturally, the first person she noticed was Spence. He’d left the counter in order to join her sisters at their table. Of all the nerve!
Had they called him over? It was possible—Frankie’s entire family had always liked Spence. She didn’t worry that her sisters would say anything about the girls. Mel and Ronnie were completely trustworthy in that regard. So what were they talking about, with their heads bent together over the table? Frankie squinted. Was that his phone they were staring at?
Pictures. Had to be. Spence’s family had moved from Mustang Valley years ago. He was probably updating her sisters on the Bohanan doings. Their laughter floated across the room and grated on Frankie’s nerves.
It occurred to her that she’d completely forgotten to turn in his breakfast order. She did that now, rather than break her bad news to her sisters in front of him. They caught sight of her and gestured her over. She pretended not to see them.
One by one, the staff returned to their stations, unusually subdued. Frankie accepted a “Tough break” from Cook and an “I don’t know what she’s thinking” from one of the waitresses. Neither remark lifted her spirits. Worse, tears stung her eyes.
She sneaked off to the restroom, not caring about the customers or Tia Maria’s potential anger. Frankie needed a moment alone. Five minutes later, she felt strong enough to face the world again. On her way out of the restroom, she ran into Mel.
“I’m shocked,” her sister gushed. “Do you believe he’s here? Are you going to tell him about the girls?”
“Maybe. Yes. Probably.”
“Really? Jeez, Frankie. Are you ready?”
“We’re meeting at six. The park. Neutral territory.”
A customer emerged from the men’s room and gave them a nod as he passed.
Mel lowered her voice. “What will you say? I mean, you can’t just blurt out, ‘Hey, you’re a dad.’”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’d better hurry. Someone will say something if they haven’t already.”
“I know, I know.”
Mel’s demeanor abruptly changed. Grabbing her by both arms, she broke into a happy smile. “So, when do you officially start?”
Frankie had trouble forming the words. Before she could get any out, Tia Maria poked her head around the corner and crooked a finger at her. Uh-oh. She’d been caught slacking off.
“Call you later,” she told Mel, and didn’t wait for a reply.
Her employer led her to the same spot where the staff meeting had taken place moments ago. Frankie wondered if she was about to be fired. Could this day get any worse?
“I should have told you about hiring my nephew,” the older woman said, a trace of contrition in her voice. “I realize you expected to get the job.”
“You did imply as much.” Frankie resisted the anger building inside her.
“I was considering you, I swear. Then my sister mentioned my nephew was looking for a job. He’s a good man. Honest and trustworthy.”
And Frankie wasn’t?
“I really do want to keep the restaurant in the family,” Tia Maria continued.
“Does he have any experience?”
“Some. I’m hoping you’ll teach him.”
Frankie took that to mean the man knew nothing of the restaurant business. She started to speak when her cell phone vibrated from inside her pocket, signaling she had a message. Was Sam texting about the girls? Frankie had trouble concentrating.
“I thought that you could help with the ordering and inventorying,” Tia Maria said. “You and Antonio can learn together.”
No one had ever been allowed to assist with, much less take over, this task handled by the café owner. She was throwing Frankie a bone.
“Does it come with a raise?”
Tia Maria drew back. “The experience will be very valuable.”
For what? Frankie would never need it here. Unless Tia Maria was expecting her to quit. Was it possible?
“A raise would be better,” she said.
Tia Maria relented with a shrug. “I’ll consider it.”
If only Frankie could quit. But she needed a regular salary to cover the bills and put food on the table. Besides, there weren’t many well-paying opportunities for a waitress in Mustang Valley other than the café.
“Por favor, do your best to make my Antonio feel welcomed. Moving away from home is going to be a big adjustment for him.”
Frankie had a few big adjustments of her own waiting for her, one of them named Spence. “Sure. No problem.”
For the first time, Tia Maria smiled. And why not? She’d gotten her way. Her nephew was now manager of the café, and Frankie had basically agreed to train him without guaranteed compensation. She could kick herself.
Well, she’d just have to expand her catering business. Realistically, she had no other choice if she hoped to increase her earning potential. At the moment, being her own boss sounded very appealing.
Before returning to the counter, she paused at the doorway to quickly check her phone—a practice generally frowned on, but Frankie didn’t care.
All right, not a text. Rather, an e-mail from her crowd-funding campaign, notifying her of a donation. Must be the universe telling her she was right to concentrate on her own business rather than someone else’s.
Tapping the phone’s screen, she opened the e-mail and followed the link to the donation page. Blinking, she looked again. Then a third time. Something wasn’t right. There must be a mistake. The amount showing was a whopping ten thousand dollars!
She reread the notification over and over, closed the link and started again. The amount in big green numbers remained the same. A numeral one followed by lots of zeros. Ten freakin’ thousand dollars.
Who would contribute that kind of money to her fledgling catering business? Using her fingers, she expanded the screen to better read the name. Spencer Bohanan! No flipping way.
She was going to strangle him. No, wait. First she was going to give him a piece of her very angry mind, then strangle him. How dare he? This wasn’t the least bit funny. In fact, it was mean. A terrible, humorless, tasteless joke.
Not caring about Tia Maria or the new manager/nephew or even her job, she marched over to the table where Spence still sat with her sisters.
Shoving her phone in his face, she stated, “I’m not amused.”
He leaned back to put more than two inches between himself and the phone and read the screen. “Wow. That came through fast.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m contributing to your catering business.” He grinned. “Isn’t that the point of a crowd-funding campaign?”
Frankie paid no attention to her sisters, who watched slack-jawed as if witnessing an impending catastrophe. “You don’t have ten thousand dollars.”
“The donation wouldn’t have gone through if I didn’t.”
