Flamingo Diner (25 page)

“It’s not,” Helen said frankly.

“But it’s better than a bad marriage,” Sylvia reminded her. “You two had happy marriages, but I can testify about the other kind. I know all about what it’s like not to get one shred of respect or consideration. I know all about living with a bully. I don’t care how lonely I get, anything will be better than
having to defer to someone else on every single thing I do or risk a battle.”

Helen looked thoughtful. “There is that. Maybe I should count my blessings.”

Rosa listened to them and wondered if she would ever get to that stage. Right now, Don was still too much a part of her life. She was getting better at concentrating on the good parts of their marriage. She made it a point to share her memories with Jeff, Andy and Emma, so that they could all start to heal. But a side effect of that was that she was nowhere near letting go and moving on. “I wonder if I’ll ever get there,” she asked sadly.

Helen and Sylvia regarded her with immediate worry.

“Are you okay?” Helen asked.

“A little sad, but okay,” Rosa assured them. “I suspect I’ll miss Don for the rest of my life, but the hurt is easing more and more each day.”

“Do you remember the time he showed up at the diner on Halloween dressed like a vampire?” Helen said, a smile on her face. “And none of the parents could get their kids to come in.”

“Probably because he insisted on serving a glass of tomato juice with every meal,” Sylvia said dryly. “He even scared the dickens out of me that day. I wasn’t entirely sure what was in that glass, so I made Helen drink hers first.”

Rosa chuckled. “I’ve never known a grown man who enjoyed Halloween so much, though that was the last year he got himself a scary costume. It drove away too much business.”

“Seems like Halloween’s just around the corner,”
Helen noted. “Once Labor Day has come and gone, fall really flies by.”

“And then it’ll be time to decorate for Christmas,” Sylvia said. “Somehow Thanksgiving gets lost in there. I expect all of you at my house this year, same as always.”

Rosa studied her with concern. “Are you sure?”

“It’s tradition,” Sylvia insisted. “Who knows, I might even let my husband drop by, if he promises to be on good behavior.” She looked at Rosa. “Do you think Emma will be home?”

“If I’m any judge of which way the wind is blowing, Emma will definitely be here,” Rosa said.

“With Matt?” Helen guessed.

Rosa nodded. “He has a plan to keep her here.”

“But I thought she was leaving Sunday,” Sylvia said.

Rosa grinned. “That’s
her
plan. Matt has other ideas. I’m putting my money on him.”

“Do you know about this plan of his?” Helen asked.

“Not the details,” Rosa admitted.

“Then how do you know it will work?” Sylvia asked.

“Because Emma’s not stupid, and she loves him. I’m as sure of that as I am that we’d better get back over there before Jolie tries to seduce Larry right here in Flamingo Diner. She’s got that look in her eyes.”

“She always has that look in her eyes,” Helen noted.

“Which is why I recognize it,” Rosa said, picking up the fresh pot of coffee and an extra cup for Larry.

They all trouped back to the table and resumed
their places, even though Jolie seemed oblivious and Larry looked shell-shocked.

“Coffee?” Rosa asked cheerfully, then poured without waiting for a reply. “So, Larry, are you and Jolie getting to know each other?”

He blinked hard, then finally dragged his gaze away from the flamboyantly dressed Jolie. “What? Oh, sure.”

Jolie smiled as if she’d just caught the juiciest canary in the aviary. “Did you know that Larry is interested in theater?” she asked as if that were an incredible revelation worthy of being reported in the Winter Cove newspaper.

“Isn’t that interesting?” Helen said with amusement. “I believe you love theater, as well, isn’t that right, Jolie?”

“I’m doing a local production of
Annie,
” Jolie confessed, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink. “We open in two weeks.”

“I’ll bet you have the lead,” Larry said.

Jolie’s blush deepened, even as Sylvia and Helen rolled their eyes.

“The lead is a kid,” Rosa pointed out. “An orphan.”

Larry gave her a vague look. “I know that, but I imagine Jolie could pull it off.”

“Why, thank you,” Jolie said, clearly dazzled. “Isn’t that just about the nicest thing a man could say?”

“The nicest,” Helen said. “Larry, you’ll have to come with us, when we go to see the production. We have tickets for opening night. I’m sure we can find an extra seat.”

“Of course, I’ll be there,” he said at once, his ap
preciative gaze sweeping over the entire group. “What man wouldn’t want to go out with four beautiful women?”

Rosa nearly groaned. She’d apparently let loose a monster. Maybe Larry was the kind of man who enjoyed having a lot of women in his life. After all, he had been running around on his wife, even if it had been during a time when he’d claimed to be trying to get her to agree to a divorce. Rosa wasn’t taking any chances, though. She intended to warn Jolie to watch her step with him. And she needed to do it before things got any hotter between them.

“Everybody, I hate to cut this short, but I have to close up and be somewhere,” Rosa said emphatically. “Larry, it was nice of you to stop by. Jolie, could you stick around? I want to talk to you about something.”

That the something was going to be an attempt to nip this thing between Jolie and Larry in the bud made her feel a little queasy. It wasn’t as if she could explain herself to Jolie, either. The things she’d learned about Larry had been expressed in confidence during their support group meetings. But she could make a general statement about the dangers of rushing into anything with a man Jolie didn’t know all that well yet.

Helen apparently had some idea of what was on her mind, because she herded Larry and Sylvia from Flamingo Diner as if there were a fire somewhere that required their attention.

“What one earth is wrong with you?” Jolie demanded when they’d gone. Then a horrified expression crossed her face. “Oh, my gosh, was Larry supposed to be your date? I thought you’d just invited
him over as a friend. If I was invading your territory, I’m sorry.”

Rosa saw little point in mentioning that she’d intended to fix him up with Helen. That particular ship had obviously sailed with no one on board.

“This isn’t about me,” she said. “But don’t you think you’re jumping into something a little too quickly here? You barely know the man. That’s a pattern with you. Just look at what happened with the maître d’.”

Jolie flushed. “Larry isn’t married. You know that or you would never have asked him to drop by. His wife committed suicide and his fiancée left him.”

“He told you that?” Rosa asked, relieved, but not entirely satisfied.

“Well, of course, he told me. He’s an honest guy. Anyone who spends five minutes with him can tell that.”

“But think about it, he had a fiancée while he also had a wife. At the very least, don’t you think that calls for a little caution on your part? That’s all I’m suggesting, that you take your time and get to know him before jumping into anything serious.”

Jolie regarded her with a perplexed expression. “We’ve had one conversation. We’re attracted to each other. We’re not getting married tomorrow morning.”

“Heaven forbid,” Rosa said with heartfelt emotion.

“Are you sure you’re not jealous?” Jolie asked.

“I am definitely not jealous. I’m just concerned.”

“Don’t be.” Jolie shrugged. “Who knows, he may not even call.”

Rosa knew better. She’d seen the look in his eyes. “He’ll call.”

“I don’t know why you’re so sure of that, but I hope you’re right. Stop worrying, Rosa. He’s a nice guy,” Jolie insisted. “Not like the others I’ve gone out with. I can tell the difference. He reminds me of Don a little.”

Rosa was startled by the comparison. She certainly hadn’t seen it. “How?”

“He’s got that same wonderful streak of gentleness that Don had, the kind that lets you know he’d never do an intentionally mean thing.”

Rosa bit back a reminder that Don had done the cruelest thing of all, he’d left her. “Take your time and get to know him, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I will. I promise,” Jolie said. “I’m not the total flake you all think I am.”

“We certainly do not think you’re a flake,” Rosa protested fiercely.

“I am when it comes to men,” Jolie admitted. “Or at least I’ve been behaving like one ever since the divorce. I suppose I needed to prove to myself that I still had what it takes to attract a man. And you’re right that I have set some very bad patterns, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. I really have.”

Rosa gave her hand a squeeze. “That’s all any of us can do.”

“I’ll call you if I hear from Larry,” Jolie said. “I’ll tell you exactly what he said and what our plans are. Will that make you feel better?”

A play-by-play of Jolie’s love life? The thought boggled Rosa’s mind. “I don’t think you need to go that far.”

Jolie left, looking happier than she had in a long
time. Rosa watched as her friend stepped outside. Larry promptly emerged from the shadows beside the building. Jolie smiled up at him as if he’d hung the moon. So much for caution, but if Jolie had her heart broken yet again, Rosa and the others would be there to help her pick up the pieces. That’s what friends did.

M
att had intended to get back to Flamingo Diner that afternoon, but his plans had taken longer than he’d anticipated. In addition, he’d made the mistake of stopping by his office.

“Nice you could drop in, boss,” Cramer noted, standing in the doorway and blocking any hurried exit Matt might have intended to make. “We’ve missed you around here.”

Matt frowned at the sarcasm. “You knew exactly where to find me, if you needed me,” he said defensively. “I’ve had my beeper with me.”

“But has it been on?” the sergeant inquired.

Matt yanked it off his belt and stared at it. It was most definitely on. “Yes,” he reported. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’ve been fending off calls from various councilmen who are wondering why the chief of police is spending all his time flipping pancakes and burgers at Flamingo Diner,” Cramer said. “I figured you wouldn’t want me telling them you had the hots for Emma, so I got a little creative. I told ’em it was part of your new policy to display a police presence in the businesses around town. Just so I wouldn’t be lying, I’ve got you scheduled to work at a library and on a garbage truck. Anything else you’d like to try to show
the public how interested you are in protecting the community?”

Matt stared at him incredulously. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Nope, just trying to save your butt,” Cramer said cheerfully. “The mayor got some bee in his bonnet about the time you’ve been spending at the diner. Said you were there more lately than you were here and it wasn’t a good use of taxpayer dollars. I could hardly deny that you’d been there, since he saw you with his own eyes. Even ate some of your scrambled eggs, the way he tells it. Said they were lousy. He wondered if your cooking was indicative of the way you did other things, such as running this department.”

Matt groaned. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you to explain that I took leave to work over there?”

“Did you really?” Cramer asked, his expression confused. “Did you fill out the paperwork?”

Matt scowled. “You know damn well I didn’t.”

“Then you haven’t got a leg to stand on. I figured the PR angle was the only way to go.”

“But a garbage truck?”

“It’ll make you humble,” Cramer noted with a certain amount of glee. “I suggest you not ask Emma out for that evening, though.”

“When am I doing that?” Matt asked, resigned to the inevitable. If Cramer was going to find a creative way to keep him out of trouble with the city fathers, then he supposed he had an obligation to do his part.

“That would be tomorrow morning at five,” he said, struggling to keep a straight face. “It shouldn’t be too bad. The temperature’s only supposed to hit eighty-six tomorrow. And the weatherman says there
will be a breeze. If you’re lucky, it’ll be blowing the right way.”

Matt bit back an expletive. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? Why the hell couldn’t you have come up with something else for me to do?”

“I tried, but Flo over at the Twist and Shout refused to let you do a perm.”

Matt saw his time with Emma slipping away. “I hope you didn’t schedule that day at the library on Friday.”

“Nope, that’s next week,” Cramer told him. “I thought I’d see about getting you something at the undertaker’s next week, too.”

“Only if you want it to be your body I’m embalming,” Matt said, barely restraining a shudder.

“Got it,” Cramer said, grinning. “No undertaker’s.”

“And maybe you could put a hold on the schedule until I get back to you,” Matt said. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done, but I think I’ll try to wriggle off this hook on my own from here on out.”

“Whatever you say. I’d start with a call to the mayor, though, since he’s the one who got the others riled up.”

“Believe me, I have every intention of speaking to the mayor,” Matt assured him. He just had a few more important fish to fry first.

“What on earth has gotten into you?” Emma demanded as Matt practically stripped her apron over her head and dragged her out of Flamingo Diner right in the middle of the lunch rush. He’d vanished without a word to her the day before and now he had the gall to come in here like he owned the place, like he
owned
her?
She scowled at him. “There are customers in here, you know.”

“Your mother has it covered,” he said. “And I have something to show you.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No,” he said succinctly without adding one word of explanation.

Emma debated arguing, but with Matt in an oddly dangerous mood like this, it was probably easier to play along. She slanted a look at him and concluded that he looked a little edgy.

“Is everything okay?” she finally asked when they’d walked a couple of blocks and the tension in his shoulders seemed to have eased a bit.

“It will be,” he said, his expression grim.

“Where are we going?”

“For a walk,” he said, as if it should be perfectly obvious.

“But not a leisurely, relaxing stroll, I notice,” she said dryly as she practically ran to keep up with him.

He regarded her blankly, then apparently caught on. “Oh, sorry. I was anxious.”

“For what?”

“To show you something,” he said impatiently, turning onto Palm Drive, a wide street with tall, royal palms lining the median. It was a short street that ran perpendicular to Main and for some reason, they’d never turned onto it on all their other walks, probably because Main led directly to the lake.

Emma was startled by all the changes, which were even more pronounced than they were on Main Street. The storefronts had been refinished with pink stucco facades and green-and-white striped awnings. The pawnshop she remembered was gone, replaced by an
upscale gift boutique. A children’s store next door had a window display of expensive baby clothes and the Mercedes-Benz of strollers. A few doors down from that was a jewelry store that boasted branches in Palm Beach and Palm Springs. That hinted that the customers were slightly more upscale than those she saw daily at the diner. She could imagine the clientele from Fashionable Memories coming into these shops.

She turned to Matt. “When did this happen?”

“Over the last five years. Winter Cove’s become an attractive retirement community to wealthy northerners who don’t want to live in Orlando or Tampa and prefer to live inland. If you drive a few miles west of town, there are some pretty amazing houses being built around a half-dozen man-made lakes and a very exclusive golf course.”

“Why did you wait until now to bring me here?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t like I was hiding it from you. For all I knew you’d been here.”

She frowned at that. He wasn’t telling her the whole truth. She could see it in his eyes. “Come on. Spill it. Why are we here now?”

Before he could reply, she glanced over his shoulder and saw the For Sale sign in one of the windows. Just behind it was a cherry desk that would have fit right in at Fashionable Memories in Georgetown. The thrill of the hunt promptly gave her a shot of adrenaline. If the store was going out of business, maybe she could pick it up for a song. Marcel would be ecstatic. And there might be more treasures inside, though judging from the coat of grime on the window and the piled-up merchandise surrounding that desk, it was going to take a lot of excavating to unearth
them, probably more time than she had between now and Sunday.

Suddenly suspicious, she glanced from the display to Matt. “This is what you wanted me to see, isn’t it? This desk.”

He nodded, hands shoved in his pockets. “I thought it might give you some ideas.”

Something in his tone made her stop just as she was about to reach for the handle on the door. She searched his face, but his expression was neutral. “You mean something besides the desk, don’t you? What sort of ideas?”

“Maybe not ideas, exactly. More like options.”

Her heart began to hammer. “Come on, Matt. You’re going to have to spell this out for me. I am not going to jump to conclusions. I want facts.”

“Probably a first,” he teased, then his expression sobered. “Let’s take a look around inside and see if there’s anything on display that interests you. I hear Joshua Mullins gets his hands on some really amazing things from time to time.”

Emma still had a mile-long list of questions, but she decided none of them were urgent. Besides, she could hardly wait to explore the place. She pushed open the door and went inside, then came to an immediate halt when she saw Marisol behind the counter packing a box.

“Marisol?”

The girl whirled around and stared. “Hey, Emma.” She avoided Matt’s gaze, even as she greeted him with a mumbled hello.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked.

“My great-grandpa owns this place. He has for years, but he’s planning to retire as soon as he finds
somebody to buy it. I’m helping him sort through some stuff.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

Marisol shrugged. “He’s a great guy and he’s been making sure I stay straight, if you know what I mean.” She hesitated, then asked, “How’s Jeff doing?”

“Good,” Emma told her. “He’s back at college.”

Marisol’s expression turned sad. “I’m really happy that worked out for him. I know he was really bummed about missing his senior year and not getting his degree.”

“He was bummed,” Emma agreed. “We’re all glad it’s worked out.”

“So are you guys looking for something in particular?” Marisol asked. “Not that I’d be able to tell you where to look, but Great-Grandpa would. I can get him.”

“No need. I’ll just poke around for a while, if you don’t mind,” Emma said.

“Okay, then, I’ll take this in the back and be back in a flash. Just holler if you need one of us before I get back.” The girl picked up the loaded box as if it weighed nothing and disappeared through a curtained doorway.

Emma stared after her. “Looks as if she’s getting her life back on track.”

Matt smiled that slow smile that made her knees go weak.

“Lot of that happening lately.” He tore his gaze away from her and surveyed the piles of junk. “So any idea what you’re looking for?”

Emma was almost tempted to tell him she was searching for her future, but that seemed too whim
sical to express. “Hard to tell,” she said instead. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

“You could have it all,” he suggested casually as she began sorting through a box filled with old silver tableware.

Her head snapped up. “What are you saying?”

“The business is for sale. It could be yours.” His gaze locked on hers. “Unless you think you’ve got a better deal with Marcel.”

“I promised him I was coming back,” she said, even though a part of her was already wavering. Her own place? Wasn’t that exactly what she’d been thinking about ever since her mother had planted the idea in her head? “No, it’s ridiculous. I can’t even think about buying a business.”

Matt came up to her and tucked a finger under her chin. “But you’re tempted, aren’t you?”

She looked around at the spacious room, which could be turned into a wonderful showroom by someone with a little artistic flair and a whole lot of elbow grease. Her imagination kicked in at full throttle. The hardwood floors could be restored to a shine, the window washed and freshly painted with the store’s name. Flamingo Treasures, she thought at once, something to tie it to the family business. She could have a bright pink flamingo with some sort of antique jewelry dangling from its beak as her logo.

“Okay, I’m tempted,” she admitted. “But it’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough,” he insisted. “Do you, Emma? Do you want your own business? Do you want to stay here in Winter Cove with your family?” His gaze searched hers. “With me?”

She felt herself trembling. “Exactly what are you asking, Matt?”

He returned her gaze with a perfectly innocent expression. “Keep poking around. Maybe the answer will come to you.”

She stared at him, puzzled. Why wouldn’t he just say it? If he was talking about building a future together, he needed to be more direct than this, she thought, exasperated with him and with herself for daring to start to dream.

Oh, well, if he was encouraging her to poke around, she might as well do it. There was nothing she enjoyed more. If he got bored waiting for her, too bad. She could always remind him that it had been his idea.

The box of silver was filled with good pieces that with a little polishing could be worth a fortune. There was a filthy old painting stashed behind a dresser that she was pretty sure was by a minor, but well-recognized, eighteenth-century French artist. Once it was cleaned she could be more certain. There was a matching set of Italian renaissance chairs in deplorable condition. And two or three good tables, one of them made of rosewood that she would love to own herself. All of the marked prices were at junk shop level. Obviously Joshua Mullins made no attempt to separate genuine antiques from the junk. It was a bargain hunter’s paradise.

She was a little surprised that Mr. Mullins hadn’t already emerged from the back to try to sell her something, but maybe Marisol had told him she was just browsing. Or maybe Matt had conspired with him to give her free rein to look to her heart’s content in the
hope of tempting her into buying not just a few items, but the whole shop.

Could she do that? She had the talent for it, the solid business instincts. And staying in Winter Cove under these conditions wouldn’t feel as if she’d sold out. But where would the money come from? It always came down to the money. Even at these prices, to own the shop lock, stock and barrel was bound to cost more than she could readily lay her hands on.

She reached an old display case near the door to the backroom. She could hear the low murmur of voices and realized that Matt was back there with Marisol and Mr. Mullins. They were probably having a damned tea party while she was out here salivating over something she couldn’t have.

She sighed heavily and leaned down to study the old estate jewelry in the case. There was a lot of junky costume jewelry mixed in with some Art Deco pieces that had increased in value in recent years. And in the midst of it all was a velvet jewelry box that looked brand-new. A card propped against it had her name on it. Her heart immediately began to race.