A Wedding at the Blue Moon Cafe Page 15

  A quick shrug. “A year ago last month. Why?”

  “I thought you’d probably want to stop and check up on him while you’re in Pittsburgh.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t want to be helped. I can’t force him not to be an addict if he chooses to be one.”

  “No, but you can tell him you love him. Care about him. It might make him want to be a better person.”

  “It hasn’t been our experience in the past. For argument’s sake, why do you think it might make a difference now?”

  “Because you aren’t your parents. You’re his brother and he needs you. You haven’t seen him in a year. Maybe he didn’t try before because he didn’t understand that he could risk it and survive the pain.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I get that. And you’re right. I’ll take the risk, too. It’s worth it.”

  Again, she had the feeling the subtext of the conversation focused on them, not their respective families.

  He heaved a breath. “I should swing by the city anyway, arrange the move. I’ll check on him while I’m there.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For such a selfless thought when you’re going through such a terrible time yourself. You’re amazing.”

  The way he looked at her—so happy—scared her. This felt too normal. She wasn’t used to normal. “You’d have suggested the same for me.” She had no doubt of it.

  ***

  How could Pittsburgh seem so familiar and yet so strange? After two weeks in Marfa, Dylan found he preferred the quiet. The mañana. Time to think. Enjoy life. And hard work—desk jobs had nothing over physical labor.

  He couldn’t deny the pride filling him when he led Clarissa to the building housing the suite of offices. She actually looked like she meant it when she said, “Nice.”

  Introducing her around, he took note of the nonverbal responses of his staff. Of the nineteen, only one ticked him off. Randy, the newbie who’d raised Dylan’s suspicions ogled her, barely hiding his lascivious leer. Not the sort of behavior to represent his firm. He demanded professionalism. Another strike against the guy, if asking off-the-wall questions counted.

  He guided her to his office. Small but efficient, not the type that screamed Hey I own the place. “Make yourself comfortable. I won’t be long.” He dropped onto his desk chair, booting up his desktop.

  “Also nice.” She stood in front of his wall of photos. Local talents, mostly. He liked supporting the up-and-comers.

  “I hate to say I told you so….” He grinned as he scanned through his e-mails and found the one he wanted. He finally responded to the buyer’s earlier e-mail: Still interested?

  She hugged herself. “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

  “Not in so many words.”

  Her arms swung open. “Okay. I harbored doubts.”

  “Honesty. Thank you.”

  “We should make it a policy.”

  “Already done.” An e-mail arrived. Whoa, that was fast. The buyer’s response said, Yes, but I’m lowering my offer. Dylan declined with two words: No deal. “I hate playing hard ball.”

  “You turned him down?”

  “I don’t need his money. The Pittsburgh office will stay open for now. And Marfa office will be a satellite home office.”

  “But how will you manage?”

  “Skype. The Internet. E-mail, conference calls. An occasional flight to meet clients.”

  Less pressure that way. She wouldn’t feel cornered by him, trapped into making the relationship work. They could relax and enjoy each other’s company. She might even miss him if he went away on short trips.

  “What about your office?”

  He did what he always did: thought best on his feet, under a deadline. He lifted the phone and dialed an extension. “Mario. Can you come in my office a sec? Thanks.”

  Seconds later, a soft rap at the door preceded Mario’s entrance. “Hey, Dylan. Glad you called me in. I have some news.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I tapped into Randy’s e-mails. He’s been reporting back to none other than Frank Rimes.”

  “No kidding. So old Frank sent a mole to do some digging. I wonder if that’s why he lowered the offer.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “No. But that actually ties into why I wanted to talk to you. You were one of my first hires, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you know the business as well as I do.”

  Mario nodded. “I’m familiar with all our clients, our style of business.”

  “So you won’t mind running the place after I move?”

  Mario gaped. “You’re moving? When?”

  “Now. You can hit the ground running, can’t you?”

  Obviously excited, Mario shifted in his seat. “I…sure. Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely certain. We’ll have to negotiate a pay raise, of course.”

  Mario laughed. “Wow. I’m floored.”

  “Not for too long, I hope. I’ll need you to cover meetings this week and next. I should be able to settle in pretty quickly.”

  “You can count on me. I really appreciate this opportunity. But where are you going?”

  He smiled at Clarissa. “To the west Texas plains. The Chihuahua Desert. Marfa, home of The Mystery Lights.”

  She returned his smile. “And the Blue Moon Café.”

  And her. “Can’t forget that.” He rose. “Come on, Mario, let’s go tell the world. Oh, wait. Should I flip you for who gets to fire Randy?”

  “Maybe we both should.”

  “I always did like the way you think.” Dylan led the way. Again, while he talked he took note of others’ reactions. Mostly positive. Maybe one or two showed signs of envy. Not surprising, and they’d get over it.

  Clarissa said good-bye to the staff so graciously, it brought to mind his first impression of her: a punked-out Grace Kelly. This time, she was less punk and more Grace.

  He gestured to Mario, and they headed for the newbie’s cubicle. “So. Randy. How’s things?”

  The guy blinked, as if trying to come up with some clever response, but said only, “Fine.”

  Mario winced. “Unfortunately, we’re not. I read your e-mails to Frank Rimes.”

  “You what?”

  Dylan shrugged. “Completely within our right if your e-mail’s sent from a company computer.”

  Mario folded his arms over his chest. “Not within your rights to spy on us for your primary employer.”

  “He’s not—”

  “Then you need to find another,” Mario said. Dylan joined him in saying, “You’re fired.”

  Dylan jerked his head to the elevator. “Out. Now.” He waited while Randy gathered his cell and a pen, his only two personal items, then escorted him to the open elevator car. “By the way, my employees treat everyone with equal respect. You should try it sometime.”

  Randy cocked his jaw and shook his head.

  Too bad, the guy obviously wouldn’t do better next time. People made their own luck. He believed that now more than before.

  They said a final good-bye and took the stairs to the outside exit. At the car, Clarissa gave him an indecipherable look.

  “What?”

  “Are you always such a fair employer?”

  He shrugged. “I try to be.”

  “Good.” She climbed into the passenger seat.

  He had the urge to pump his fist and say, Yes! but resisted. Especially when he faced the worst challenge: finding Donnie. He got in and sighed. “It might take a while to locate my brother.”

  “Not surprising. Let’s get started.”

  Her ready acceptance helped. “Donnie used to stay at several shelters. If he’s not at one of them, hopefully they’ll have some leads.”

  She squeezed his leg. “I’m sure they will.”

  The first two had no information and claimed not to have seen him in six months. At t
he third, an employee was checking her records when a fortyish woman approached, well dressed, so not homeless. “Did you say you’re a relative of Donovan Wall’s?”

  “I’m his brother. Have you seen him?”

  The woman gripped her clipboard to her chest. “Not since last month.”

  Dylan’s hopes sagged. “Guess I should check the streets.” Or the morgue. Maybe Donnie wore a John Doe toe tag.

  “Try the Carnegie Science Center.”

  “Excuse me?” Did Donnie tell her how much he used to love going there?

  “I’d set him up an interview for a janitorial position.”

  “A job? Seriously?” The last job his brother kept longer than a week, he’d been interning for a geology professor.

  “They gave him the position,” the woman went on. “And a week later, he still worked there. I haven’t had a chance to check back again.”

  “That’s great, thanks. For everything.” The information and her kindness.

  Fifteen minutes later, they parked outside the science center. Dylan wiped his palms against his jeans.

  “You shouldn’t be nervous.”

  “I’m….” Honesty, remember? “A little nervous. I haven’t seen him in a year.” He stared at the building. “It’s been a lot longer than that since I felt like I’ve known him.”

  “So let’s go find him. Get to know him again.”

  “You’re beautiful and wise.” He met her at the hood of the car and walked hand in hand inside. He paid the entry fees and they toured the museum on a mission. No sign of him. Dylan’s hopes flagged.

  “Maybe his shift hasn’t started yet.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. “I should’ve asked.”

  “Here’s an employee. Excuse me.” She waved to a man in a dark polo emblazoned with the center’s logo. “We’re looking for Don Wall.”

  The employee scanned them both. “He’s not in trouble, is he?”

  Dylan projected a confident professional air and hoped the guy would overlook his casual dress. “Not at all. The shelter wanted to check up on him, make sure he’s doing all right. See if he needs anything.” Not a lie. Exactly.

  The man nodded. “Donnie’s been great. Always punctual, works hard. As far as I know, the center’s been very pleased with his job performance.”

  Clarissa shifted her hips and gave him a sweet-sexy come-hither look no man could resist. “We need to see him, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course. He should be almost done his rounds.” The employee led them to the elevator and they rode up to the fourth floor.

  In the hallway outside the theater, a man pushed a wide broom across the floor with mechanical motions. Dylan’s heart squeezed. Donnie.

  The employee gestured. “There he is. Donovan?”

  Donnie paused but gripped the broom handle tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Yes?”

  “These people asked to see you.”

  Donnie’s eyes widened. He held Dylan’s gaze a few beats, then knit his brows. “Dylan?”

  To the employee, Dylan said, “Thanks very much.” Your cue to leave.

  The man nodded. “Later.”

  Donnie seemed unable to let go of the broom. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “Just wanted to say hi.” Dylan extended his hand. “It’s great to see you, Donnie.”

  Donnie stared at his hand a beat before reaching for it. “You, too.” He glanced at Clarissa. “Hi.”

  She shook his hand. “Hi, Donnie. I’m Clarissa.”

  Dylan took in his brother: reserved, a little shaky but overall, mostly good. “How’ve you been?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent yet, but I’m getting there.”

  “Excellent.” Donnie didn’t exactly glow with health, but his skin no longer had that sallow appearance, and he stood straight to meet Dylan’s gaze rather than the dull, lifeless eyes of before. “They treat you well here?”

  “They’ve been good to me, yeah. They talked me into signing up for some classes.”

  “Fantastic. Geology?”

  “Meteorology. Climate studies.”

  “Hey, maybe you’ll be the next Fox weather guy.”

  Donnie chuckled. “Anything’s possible. What about you, still spinning words?”

  “I’m branching out. I might try my hand at something new soon.” Dylan hated to have such a short visit but didn’t want to get his brother in trouble. “Do you have time to go for a coffee? Maybe out to dinner later?”

  “I finished my break already, and I work till eleven. You guys around tomorrow?”

  “We’ll probably catch the next flight out. But hey.” He fished out a business card. “Call my cell anytime, will you? We need to catch up.”

  “Yeah, I doubt I can do family dinners. Not quite there yet, you know?”

  “Me either. But we’ll figure something out.” He clasped Donnie’s hand and drew him into a bear hug. “It’s really good to see you.”

  “You, too. I wondered if our paths would cross again.”

  “We’ll make sure of it.”

  Donnie leaned in. “So, you two together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lucky dog.”

  “That I am.” For once, he wouldn’t argue.

  ***

  With each mile they drove from the airport toward Marfa, Clarissa’s nerves unfurled further and further. Instead of worrying what came next, how she could get out of the tangle of emotions that overcame her whenever Dylan was around, she let herself go. Maybe it was the stars tonight, more dazzling than she remembered. Or maybe the world looked better because Dylan sat beside her. Not talking her ears off, not trying to be witty or devastating her with his charm. Just being with her. Every once in a while, he’d glance over and grin. Sleepiness overcame her, and she leaned against his arm and closed her eyes.

  Next she knew, the car had stopped. She sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not a thing. We’re home.”

  Home. He said it so casually, but it had a solid sound. Sure enough, the car sat in the back driveway behind her cottage. “I fell asleep.”

  “Yeah.” He smoothed her hair. “I hated to wake you.”

  “You must be exhausted.”

  “A little tired. Come on, I’ll walk you in.”

  Her mind in a haze, she let him guide her. They stopped on the back patio. “I’ll wait till you’re inside.”

  She looped her arm around his waist. “What do you mean?”

  “You never lock your door. I want to be sure you’re safe.”

  She closed the loop and held him. “No, I meant where are you going?”

  “I’ll check the Paisano. They should have some vacancies. And it’s close by.”

  She didn’t want to let him go. Didn’t want to sleep alone. “It’s so late.”

  “Only eleven thirty.”

  “Stay here.” She meant to add tonight. No guy, besides Dylan, had ever spent one night, let alone two. Strange, no panic ensued.

  He gave her an uncertain look. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Stay here.” Another Freudian slip? Maybe. Maybe not. No more holding back. She pulled him close and kissed him.

  And he kissed her. Just the right amount of fire, but not pushing her. Letting the simmer build slowly. So it won’t flame out. Without breaking away, she opened the door and they swung inside, a kind of slow whirl. Dance-like, not so fast it spun her head. With all her wits about her, she closed the door.

  Finally, she believed her brother. He’d been right all along. It might have taken a while, but life was going to be so good.

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blo
gspot.com, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

  Cate loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters@gmail.com

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