Love in the Morning, page 10
Actually, she could use a lot of things. But right now she was going to ignore all her potential problems. She was going to go have a beer. On her own. Without Clark Denham as an escort. She stopped by her room for a moment, grabbing her jacket and purse, and headed across the street.
Music blared from the Blarney Stone’s front door whenever someone went in or out, just as it had when she’d been there before. She stepped inside, trying not to feel shy. Just because she’d never been here by herself didn’t mean she wouldn’t be welcome.
The bass notes from the jukebox bounced around the room as the couples on the minuscule dance floor did their best not to run into each other. People stood two-deep at the bar, and the tables were jammed with extra chairs. Lizzy hugged herself, chewing on her lower lip. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all. She doubted she’d be able to make it to the bar in less than twenty minutes.
“Lizzy,” someone called. “Lizzy! Over here.”
She turned to see Nona waving energetically in her direction from a table jammed at the side. Lizzy began working her way across the room, shoving politely and then not so politely between the bodies stacked in front of the bar.
“Here you go,” Nona called as she stepped up to the table. “Pull that chair over here. Al, make yourself useful.”
The man sitting next to Nona gave her a long-suffering look, then pulled up an empty chair. Lizzy dropped into the seat, doing a quick check of the others at the table. No Clark, but Dick Sonnenfeld was sitting at Nona’s side, as usual. He gave her a smile that was closer to a smirk.
Did Nona tell him who I am? Has she told anybody else? Lizzy’s shoulders tightened.
Nona punched him in the arm. “Stop leering at the girl, Dick. She won’t want to sit here if you act like an asshole.”
For a moment, Lizzy thought he might reply, but he rubbed his arm instead. “You need to learn to pull your punches, Nona.”
Nona gave him a flat smile. “I can pull a punch when I want to, Mr. Sonnenfeld.” She turned back to Lizzy. “This is my son, Al. He owns the best garage in town.”
The man next to Nona nodded in Lizzy’s direction. He looked like he was trying not to grimace. “Nice to meet you,” he called over the noise. “You’re the cook at Denham’s place, right?”
Lizzy nodded. “Right.”
“Bring your car around sometime. Clark said you had some problems with it.”
Like not having enough money for gas. But that wasn’t something Al could fix. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
“We need to get you something to drink.” Nona waved toward the bar. “Ronnie,” she called. “Over here.”
The gorgeous blonde from last time sashayed across the room, parting the crowd like Moses in the Red Sea. Lizzy was aware of heads turning all around the bar. Apparently, when Ronnie walked by, everything else stopped for the duration.
She gave Lizzy a dazzling smile. “Hi, there. I remember you. Good to see you again. You want a beer?”
Lizzy took a quick breath. Ronnie’s dazzle beat everybody else’s by a mile. “Sure.”
“Anybody else?” Ronnie turned her smile on the rest of the table.
Dick grimaced. “Careful where you point that thing. At this distance it could be lethal.”
Ronnie giggled. “Oh, you kidder. What do you want to drink?”
Dick narrowed his eyes. “Would a whiskey sour be too much for you to manage?”
“Of course not.” Ronnie turned to Nona and Al. “How about you two?”
Al sighed. “Just bring a pitcher, Ronnie. We’ll probably have other people coming by.”
“Okay.” She turned back to Dick again. “If they get a pitcher, do you still want your whiskey sour?”
Dick’s eyes stayed narrow. “Yes, I still want my whiskey sour. And a beer mug.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be back in a few.” Ronnie gave them another glistening smile, then walked through the awestruck crowd.
Dick shook his head. “How the hell does she do that?”
Nona shrugged. “Natural talent. Saltzman’s making a mint off of her. Half of these guys are just in here to watch her walk by.”
Al gave her a dry smile. “There’s a lot to see, Ma.”
Nona swatted him. “Don’t you go bad-mouthing Ronnie. She came back from a disaster. She’s a walking advertisement for reinventing yourself.”
She glanced at Lizzy a little guiltily. Lizzy wasn’t sure, but she thought Nona might actually be blushing. “What disaster?” she asked quickly.
Al turned toward her again. “Ronnie was on a reality show here last year. One of those choose your bachelor things. The whole show sort of blew up when one of her bachelors started dating one of the producers behind her back.”
“Ha,” Nona said darkly. “Paul wasn’t ever one of Ronnie’s bachelors. Not really. He got dragged into that thing against his will. And Ronnie always knew he wasn’t really in the game.”
Al shook his head. “Well, anyway, the show kind of fell apart. So on the night Ronnie was supposed to choose the guy she wanted to stay with, she said the hell with it and told them she didn’t want any of them.”
“Great television,” Dick muttered. “Best show of the season.”
Al raised his voice slightly to talk over him. “Then she decided to stick around Salt Box instead of going back home to wherever it is she comes from.”
“Someplace down south.” Nona shook her head. “Florida or Georgia or someplace like that. But she was living in California before she came out here.”
“So she’s now gracing us with her presence and drawing every male within hailing distance, making Saltzman a very rich man.” Dick gave Lizzy another of those smirks. She was beginning to think it was his natural expression.
Nona narrowed her eyes in exasperation. “Ted didn’t hire her to make money. He did it because he’s a nice guy and she needed a job.” She glanced at Lizzy again and then looked away quickly.
Lizzy gritted her teeth. At this rate everybody at the table would figure out something about her was weird by the end of the evening.
“Good for him,” she said quickly.
The crowd parted again and Ronnie headed back to their table, carrying a pitcher of beer and glasses. She placed the pitcher in the center of the table, the glasses in front of them.
Dick glowered. “Where’s my whiskey sour?”
Ronnie shrugged. “If you want it, Ted says you’ll have to wait. It’s just him and Maggie on the bar tonight, and he’s backed up.”
“You brought the beer.”
Ronnie shrugged again. “Well, heck, anybody can pour a pitcher of beer. I did that one myself.”
Nona frowned. “So you went ahead of the other people who were waiting?”
“They didn’t mind. Y’all want some nachos or something?”
Al sighed. “Sure, why not? It’ll give Dick something else to grouse about besides his whiskey sour.”
“Okay, it may take a little while. Seeing as how we’re so busy.” Ronnie gave them another one of those smiles. “I’ll put you at the head of the line, though. Since you’re regulars and all.” She turned and ambled back across the room with the same crowd-clearing effect.
Dick shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
Al took the pitcher and began pouring. “Best show in town. Better than that Mr. Right thing Ronnie was on, anyway.”
Lizzy blew out a long breath. So Ronnie was another reality show survivor. Interesting. Maybe they should get together and form a support group. Except Ronnie didn’t look like she needed extra support from anybody.
Al squinted across the room. “Isn’t that Denham?”
Lizzy turned around quickly, looking toward the door. It was indeed Clark…with a really stunning blonde. Or, she would have been stunning if she hadn’t been frowning so ferociously.
“Who’s he with?” Dick was squinting too.
Nona sighed. “It’s that bitch from the resort. You know—the one who’s always coming up with all those ideas for dumbass promotions. I think she’s their public relations expert. God help them.”
Lizzy stared at the woman again. She looked…expensive. Her little black dress had probably cost more than Lizzy’s entire wardrobe. Of course, given the current state of her wardrobe, that wasn’t saying much. Her stilettoes looked designer and if her dangling earrings weren’t real diamonds, they were at least very nice fakes. Her blonde hair hung straight to her shoulders, gleaming even in the dim light of the Blarney Stone.
She obviously hadn’t been spending her time in humid kitchens.
She was also obviously a very appropriate date for a hotel owner like Clark. Of course, he was wearing his usual flannel shirt and khakis, so it didn’t look like he’d gone out of his way to dress up for her.
That probably should have made Lizzy feel good. It didn’t. As she started to turn back to the table, Clark glanced in her direction. And froze.
For a couple of heartbeats, they stared at each other. Lizzy could only hope her face was as expressionless as his. Then the woman beside him said something, jerking on his arm, and he looked away.
Lizzy turned back to the table and picked up her beer. “Any sign of those nachos?”
Nona was still frowning, but this time it was at Lizzy. “Any minute now.”
“Good. I didn’t get around to fixing dinner tonight. Nachos would be welcome.” She took another swallow of beer without tasting it.
You don’t have anything going with him. Of course he has a girlfriend. Did you think he was celibate before he met you?
No, she definitely hadn’t thought that. And now she figured she should probably just forget about that kiss. Obviously, it hadn’t mattered a damn.
Right. Just keep telling yourself that, Lizzy. Eventually you might actually believe it. Okay, it had meant something to her. But now she sort of doubted it had meant shit to Clark.
Chapter Ten
The Date From Hell lasted way longer than it should have, in Clark’s opinion. Lauren had complained almost from the moment he’d set foot in her Mini. Construction at the resort was behind schedule. Her boss had turned down her idea for a Mocktober Fest in November (praise the Lord). And she’d broken a nail getting into her car.
Since he assumed the whole purpose of this date was to get him to feel mellow about the reality show coming to town, she really needed to work on her technique. Five minutes in, he was as far from mellow as possible and ready to head back to Praeger House. Without Lauren.
Of course, the brief stop at the Blarney Stone hadn’t helped the evening. He wasn’t even sure why they’d gone there since Lauren hated everything about the place and had made her feelings known well before they’d stepped inside. And seeing Lizzy at that table with Nona, Al and Dick had made him simultaneously want to join them and get the hell out of the room before any of them noticed Lauren.
That was, of course, impossible since they’d all been staring at him from the moment they’d walked in.
Dinner at the Italian place where they’d finally ended up after leaving the Blarney Stone hadn’t made the evening any better. Lauren had an antipasto salad from which she pointedly removed all the salami and cheese, piling it beside her bowl in a pyramid of shame. Although she hadn’t exactly complained about the food, her sigh when she’d looked at the menu had been enough.
By the time dinner was over, he’d abandoned any plans for heading back to his place. Or her place. In fact, he’d rarely been around a woman he felt less lust for, a lack of interest she seemed to share completely. When she pulled her Mini up in front of the Praeger House, he found himself fresh out of polite lies.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said. “Feel like a nightcap?” He sounded completely unenthusiastic about that possibility, but he couldn’t seem to work up any excitement.
She shook her head. “I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.”
“Okay. See you at the next Merchants Association meeting.”
Lauren shrugged. “It’s possible.” She gave no indication she was interested in a good night kiss.
He watched as Lauren sped back down the drive to the street. And that ends that. Clearly they weren’t going to be having any more fuck dates. Not that he was all that broken up about it. He probably should have ended the whole thing a long time ago.
He nodded at the night desk clerk as he headed up the hall toward the kitchen. Why he was headed to the kitchen he didn’t know. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty. Maybe he just wanted to make sure everything was set up for breakfast tomorrow. Not that he had any doubts on that score, given Lizzy’s work ethic.
Lizzy. He paused for a moment. Seeing Lizzy in the Blarney Stone had made him want to have Lauren drop him off on the nearest street corner. He didn’t really feel like trying to figure out why a woman dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers suddenly seemed infinitely more desirable than a woman like Lauren. In fact, he was fairly sure figuring that out would lead to trouble.
Then why are you trying to find Lizzy instead of just heading for your apartment? Good question. He didn’t exactly have an answer.
He pushed through the door to the dining room, but he couldn’t see any lights on in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure when he’d begun to assume Lizzy would always be there when he wanted to see her, but obviously that assumption wasn’t accurate this evening. Just another thing that wasn’t going the way he expected it to.
He stepped back into the hall again. Maybe she was still at the Blarney Stone. He could always head over there and see. On the other hand, if she wasn’t there, he might end up being stuck at the bar, talking to people he didn’t want to talk to.
No Blarney Stone, no kitchen, that left… Yeah, genius, you’ll have to go knock on her door. He took a deep breath, then turned down the hall, heading for the corridor that led to what passed for the Staff Quarters.
In reality, most of the people who worked at Praeger House lived outside the hotel. Clark figured that once upon a time, when the hotel was still the private residence of the timber baron, there’d been live-in maids and kitchen staff. But given the size of their rooms, they must have been related to elves. Some of the old staff rooms had already been done over, walls removed to make suites. Lizzy was staying in one of the few that remained at the original size. He felt a little guilty about putting her in a room that wasn’t much more than a broom closet, but she’d seemed glad to get it at the time. And so far as he knew, she hadn’t been looking for another place since then. She pretty much lived in the kitchen. He didn’t stop to wonder why she did that.
He raised his hand before he could think better of it and knocked on her door. There was a long pause, long enough to make him wonder if she actually was still at the Blarney Stone, and then her door swung open.
Apparently, he’d managed to come just as she was getting ready for bed. She wore a pair of black yoga pants and a T-shirt, and her dark hair was pulled up on top of her head in a clip. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and for a moment he thought she might close the door in his face. Then she squared her shoulders and gave him a polite smile. “Hi, what’s up?”
What’s up? He suddenly realized the weakness in his plan—he didn’t actually have a plan. He had no idea what to say to her now that he was there. “Hi,” he said, trying desperately to think of a topic he could legitimately claim had brought him to her door.
Her forehead furrowed slightly as she waited for him to go on.
“I was wondering…” His brain had gone utterly blank.
“Wondering?” She raised an eyebrow.
“About the menus,” he improvised. “You know, the breakfast stuff. I mean could I get a copy of the ones you showed me?”
“Sure, come on in.” She stepped back. “I’ve got them here somewhere. You can photocopy them.”
She turned back to a desk on the other side of the room, all of three feet away, flipping through some pages. He took a quick glance around. Hotel furniture—bed, dresser, desk and bedside table. Hotel linens. Hotel rug. And not much else—no family pictures, no posters, no art, nothing that made it look any different from the other rooms on the floor. It was just the way it had been when she moved in.
He frowned. Why wouldn’t she want to put up a couple of pictures? Was she not planning to stay?
“Here you go.” She picked up some papers from the desk and turned back toward him.
He took them from her, trying to come up with anything else to talk about. Because he wasn’t ready to leave yet. Not by a long shot. “How was the Blarney Stone?”
Her expression seemed to close, her jaw tightening. “It was great. I enjoyed it.”
“Good.” Surely there was something else he could say about the Blarney Stone. Something that didn’t involve Lauren.
“She’s very pretty.”
Some of Lizzy’s dark hair had come undone from the clip, drifting down alongside her face. Her eyes seemed larger in the soft lighting of the room, fringed with velvety lashes. And he had no idea what she’d just said. “Excuse me?”
“Your girlfriend. Your date, I mean.” She licked her lips. “She’s really a knockout.”
One glimpse of that pale pink tongue and his body was back on high alert. Crap, crap, crap. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Lizzy’s forehead furrowed slightly. “She isn’t?”
He shook his head. “She’s just…someone I know.” Used to know.
“Someone you know.” She nodded slowly.
“We…we’re not…” He ran his fingers through his hair. Why exactly was he having so much trouble with this? And since when had he tried to explain his sex life to a relative stranger?
