Mad About The Man (9 page)

7

"
W
e've got to stay calm and clearheaded," Sophie announced. "And we've got to be smarter and more organized than he is."

Gaby accepted the mug of coffee Sis offered and listened to murmurs of assent from Caleb. "Change the place, he would," he muttered. "Wouldn't be the same. O'course, it'd be good for business. All those
tourists would be bound to buy a heap o' gas, and—"
he caught Sophie's narrowed gaze "—and, well, wouldn't be worth it, no how."

"How come he's suddenly visible all over the
place, that's what I'd like to know," Sophie said. "According to the talk that's going around he's been visiting that monstrosity of a house since he was a
boy. Don't believe it, myself. If he had been, we'd
all know him by now."

"I believe it," Gaby said and quickly tipped her
mug.

"How would you know?" This time it was Char who spoke from a chair pulled up to the end of the
booth where Gaby sat with Sophie Byler, Caleb and
Shirley. Sis hovered nearby.

"I've spoken to someone who knows all about
him," Gaby said evasively. "Don't ask me to tell you
who because I can't break a confidence." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Barney says he
thinks
we should go along with Ledan's plans," Shirley commented. "He says this town's going to die, anyways, the way things are go
ing, so why not grab a chance to make some money."

Sophie leaned over the table. "And what do
you
say about that, Shirley?"

"Well, I could use more money as much as any
one, but I was born and bred in Goldstrike and I don't
want it turned into no—what did you call it, Gaby?"

"Plastic playground." Jacques's eyes were the
kind of dark blue that burned. When he'd looked at
her on Monday, just before he'd kissed—started kiss
ing her—they'd turned almost black. And when he
smiled they warmed, but in a way that made her want
him to heat her from skin to bone and everywhere in
between. She pressed her stomach, but it wasn't her stomach that ached. "He—"

"Gaby?"

She started. "Yes?"

Sophie's pale blue eyes speared her. "What's the matter with you? This is important and you're daydreaming
.
"

"Sorry," Gaby said sheepishly, not missing Char's
raised brows. "I was
thinking
about things, that's
all." On Tuesday and again on Wednesday, Jacques had stood at the window above the workroom until Gaby obligingly saw him—and immediately turned
away. Yesterday she'd returned his wave. This meet
ing had been called for eight in the morning, and
Gaby had yet to go to the workroom. Would he be at
the window again? A small stab of apprehension turned her stomach.

"We're going to circulate petitions."

"How could you be so
dumb,"
Gaby muttered. He
was playing some game, and if she chose to play, too,
she'd undoubtedly end up the loser.

"Dumb?" Sophie folded her fingers around Gaby's
forearm.

Gaby jumped again. "No, no, I was talking to myself. I've got a lot on my mind, what with the movie work to do and now this nuisance with Jacques."

"So, he's Jacques now," Char remarked, nonchalantly consulting her date book. "I'm glad you're on good terms with him. That could be very useful."

"I'm
not
on any kind of terms with him." Now
that
was a lie. "And if I were I wouldn't use that
type of situation against him."

"There cannot be a theme park in this town," Sophie said with finality "It would ruin—"

"Hush," Sis said, surprising everyone at the table.
She clamped her lips together and jerked her head toward the door.

Gaby craned around and saw Bart Stanly coming
in with a sleekly elegant blond woman
.
They made a
move toward The Table.

"S'taken!" Sis hollered, loudly enough to make everyone in the place jump. .

Bart, healthily handsome and solid in an olive-
green suit and tan shirt, glanced around with apparently guileless confusion. "I don't see anyone waiting." He plopped one of the tipped chairs down and stood back for his companion to sit. "You're going to love this place, Camilla. It's so hokey it's unreal."

Gaby cringed and saw her companions wince in unison.

"Chairs is tipped," Sis announced. "Chairs is
tipped for my kin on account of they're comin' for
breakfast. They
wouldn't be none too pleased if I
was
to let you used their tipped chairs and their table, so
I reckon
as you'd better take a booth…
less'n you'd
as well go somewheres else."

"Did you hear that?" Caleb whispered loudly. "I never heard that female say more'n two words at a stretch before. Now she's spoutin' as bad as my old lady."

"If n you'd like a change from this here hokey place, you'd probably do real fine over at Barney's place." Sis's voice sounded rusty, like the coughing
motor of a hand-cranked vintage car. "Down the road
a spell. Hacienda Heaven it's called these days. Used to be a plain old tavern afore Barney visited that Tee
juana. That's a foreign place. Mexico. Don't hold
with travelin' meself. Gives a body ideas that don't do a bit o' good."

Gaby put a hand over her mouth to smother a giggle.

"Whoa," Char said in a low voice. "She's really
on a roll. May never stop."

"Barney makes what he calls burners. On account
of they're hot, I guess. Nasty things in tough fried stuff he twists up in half. Anything he's got That's what he puts in 'em. That and a heap of that hot sauce."

Seconds of silence followed, and Gaby didn't trust
herself to look at Sis, or her victims.

"Thank you for the recommendation," Bart finally
said. "But we'll use a booth. Some of your lovely
hot coffee would be a wonderful start. And I'd like a
stack of those spectacular blueberry pancakes you make. With the boysenberry syrup. How about you,
Camilla?"

"Would you listen to him sucking up to Sis?"
Caleb hissed.

"Won't do him any good," Shirley said matter-of-
factly.

The door opened again and Caleb's skinny wife, Esther, rushed in. As usual, her florid face glowed. "Darn, but I thought I'd never get over here. Got stuck on the phone, b
ut at least it was about the pe
tition. We aren't going to have to twist arms to get support on this one. I doubt there's a body in this
town who wants anything to do with no theme park."
If Esther noticed the frantic gesturing from those
seated, she showed no sign.

"I don't reckon there's too many thrilled about the
durn youth center, neither," she continued. "We'd better get those petitions printed up and fast. I hear
Ledan's already got himself a whole office suite being
finished for him above Gaby's place. Cal said as how
there's not no expense being spared. And some lackey
of Ledan's was tellin' him about an expert who'd be arrivin' in a few days. An expert in
theme
parks, if you can imagine such a fool thing. We'd better or
ganize getting the signatures right now."

Gaby pretended great interest in her coffee.

Caleb began whistling an off-key rendition of "At
the End of the Rainbow" and Gaby kicked him under the table.

"Whatcha do that for?"

"Shut up, Caleb," Char glared at him. "And you, Esther, keep your voice down."

Gaby felt Bart approach but didn't look up.

"Good
morning, all," he said too pleasantly. "How are we today?"

"I'm fine," Shirley said. "Can't speak for you or anyone else."

"I'm fine, too, Bart," Gaby said with a smile.

"Good, good." He waved a hand expansively in his companion's direction. "This is Camilla Rob
erts—an old friend of mine, but mostly of Jacques's. She happened to be passing through the area and de
cided to drop in for a visit."

Char leaned close to Gaby. "Passing through?"
she mumbled. "Nobody
passes through
Goldstrike."

Bart bowed his head toward Char. "I beg your par
don?"

"I said lucky day for Goldstrike." She smiled up at him.

Camilla Roberts rose from her seat and came to
Bart's side. Promptly he put an arm around her shoul
ders. "Camilla and Jacques have known each other for years," he said as if he were talking to Jacques Ledan's personal cheering squad.

"That's right," Camilla said in a husky voice guar
anteed to melt any man's socks—and strategic points
north of his feet. She flipped back the silky curve of her long, honey-colored hair. "I can hardly wait to see him again. Don't you think this idea of his for your little town is just
wonderful?"

No one responded.

Gaby's eyes flicked to Bart's face, and she saw his
mouth tighten. Mr. Stanly was no fool and he'd over
heard the conversation about petitions to oust Jacques
and his
wonderful
ideas.

"I'm a beauty consultant," Camilla continued,
widening large and admittedly beautiful brown eyes.
She gave Bart a playful poke with a long
, pale pink fingernail. "And Bar
t forgot to let me know the spa is already past the blueprint stage."

"Spa?" Sophie and Gaby spoke in unison. "What spa?"

Camilla smoothed skin-tight black suede pants over
her hips and pulled up the collar on her black silk blouse. "Don't pretend I'm not the last to learn that Jacques's spa plans are going ahead. I know he intended to offer me the managerial position, because—" she leaned down, showing a considerable amount of cleavage at the neck of the blouse "—because I'm the best and Jacques only hires the
best. He's a very discerning man, which is what I like
best about him."

Best?
Gaby breathed hard through her nose. And
just what else did Camilla Roberts like about Jacques?

"A spa." Sophie looked meaningfully around.
"Mr. Ledan is planning a spa, folks. What do we think of that?"

"Overwhelming, isn't it," Camilla purred.
"Jacques is almost a visionary sometimes. Of course,
the candy business is so successful it runs itself, so he needs other outlets for his talents."

The woman's eyes glowed at the very mention of Jacques Ledan's name. Gaby balled her fists in her
lap. Twice he'd come on to her as if she were the
only woman in the world. Evidently he'd been bored
and filling up a little empty time until
Camilla
"passed through." Hell, but she hated herself for re
sponding to him.

"Why don't I go on over to the print shop for you,
Sophie?" Gaby ignored Char's restraining hand and stood up. She nodded at Camilla. "I hope you enjoy your stay. How long did you say you intended to be here, by the way?"

Camilla shrugged and her pouting lips pushed even
farther forward. "That depends entirely on Jacques.
Whatever he wants, he gets. But I expect most of you
already know that." She giggled. "I may be around for a long time and I won't mind a bit."

Gaby picked up her Mary Poppins-style, black
felt—complete with cherries bobbing from the brim—
and jammed it over her French-braided chignon. Part
ing her lips in a parody of a smile, she directed herself
to Sophie. "I'm going to put every ounce of energy I've got into this," she said, squaring her shoulders.
"If I have my way, there'll be no theme park, no
hotel, no multiplex cinema, no wretched mining dis
plays with
leprechauns,
for crying out loud. And no
spa!
Starting this morning I'll be campaigning to boot
out Jacques Ledan and his crazy schemes."

"Hey!" Bart reached for her arm. "You're a smart
woman You know this is going to be good for every
one. Wait till you start turning out those baseball—"

"Over my dead body." Gaby sidestepped him and
headed for the
door. "You can tell Jacques-the-
wonder-boy that I'm declaring war."