Nearly Departed in Deadwood (16 page)

      The Wild Pasque was not only South Dakota’s official state flower; it was also the name of Deadwood’s sole hoity-toity, five-star watering hole. The menus came without prices, the wine included a corking fee, and the linens probably cost more than my fancy green dress, which now lay wadded up in the corner of my bedroom.

      In spite of the rollercoaster start to my date, and my replacement dress being a decade out of style and a tad snug in the tummy, I made it through dinner without incident. White wine and Wolfgang’s magnetism had my head buzzing by the time the waiter brought our tiramisu and espressos. Out on the dance floor, couples old and young swayed to a slow, jazzy, version of “Java Jive.”

      “You look beautiful in red.” Wolfgang handed me one of the two dessert forks the waiter left behind. “In this light, your hair looks like strands of 14-carat gold, and your skin looks smooth as a pool of milk.”

      I grinned like a halfwit. How could I not? Across from me sat the hottest guy in the joint. “Thanks.”

      Natalie had been right. Wolfgang looked good—cotton candy, melt-in-my-mouth good. The flickering candle in the middle of the table painted his face in warm tones. His indigo shirt darkened his blue eyes while highlighting his blond locks.

      I’d forgotten how intoxicating lust could be, especially when blended with alcohol, cologne, and unbridled charm. I found myself spinning thoughts about naked male flesh yet again. 

      “How long will you be in San Francisco?” I forked off a piece of tiramisu. I hadn’t told Wolfgang the bad news about his house yet. I kept waiting for the right moment, and it kept not coming.

      “A few days.”

      The taste of chocolate, mocha, and liquor all floating in a light cream dragged a moan from my throat. “This is heavenly.”

      His eyes held mine. “I’m glad you like it.”

      I took another bite, fumbling with my fork as I courted Natalie’s idea of paying a visit to Wolfgang’s hotel room tonight. “What time does your plane leave tomorrow?”

      “Way too early.”

      A buxom sixty-something woman in a flower dress and rhinestone glasses paused on her way by our table. “Wolfgang Hessler. I’m so glad I noticed you sitting over here.”

      Wolfgang looked up at our visitor, a broad smile spilling onto his lips. “Hello, Mrs. Stine. You look lovely as usual. How are you this evening?”

      She tittered under his charm. “Much better after finding out how bighearted you’ve been lately. The Deadwood Children’s Shelterhouse can’t thank you enough for your generous donation. Will you come over and say hello to my husband and let him thank you as well? We were great admirers of your grandfather.”

      “Well, I’m kind of busy.” He glanced my way.

      “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.” I dipped my fork into the tiramisu, my attraction to Wolfgang warming my body temperature several degrees after learning of his open-handedness when it came to a local kids’ charity.

      Dropping his napkin on the table, he pushed back his chair and followed Mrs. Stine. I couldn’t help but admire his long legs, broad shoulders, and everything in between as he crossed the room.

      “Hello, Blondie,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

      My shoulders tightened. I closed my eyes and hoped Ray was just an evil, hallucinatory side effect of too much booze.

      “First Old Man Harvey, now Hessler. I see you’re not above using your feminine wiles to lure clients.”

      Nope, Ray was the real thing. I opened my eyes and nailed him with a glare. “Go away, Ray.”

      His snicker made my jaw clench. He leaned in close, drowning me in a sinus-burning wave of Stetson cologne, lowering his voice. “Too bad sleeping with Hessler isn’t going to get his house on the market any quicker.”

      “I’m not sleeping with him.” Yet.

      “You know, honey.” The smell of liquor on Ray’s breath made me shudder in revulsion. “I happen to be pretty good friends with a guy on the Deadwood Historical Committee. I might be able to pull some strings for you, get you a green light to start remodeling within a week instead of a month.”

      Tempting, but I knew better than to wag my tail and start panting. “What’s your price?”

      With his index finger, he drew a line up my bare arm. “Come over to my place after dinner and I’ll show you.”

      I should have known. “I have plans.”

      “If you want to keep your job, you’ll change them. I don’t like sloppy seconds.”

      I laid my fork on my plate before I gave into the urge to bury it in his chest. I moved up close to his ear. “Go fuck yourself.”

      Ray chuckled and stood. “Your loss, Blondie. You’d better hit that unemployment office early Monday. I hear the line gets pretty long by lunchtime.”

      “Who’s your friend, Violet?” Wolfgang asked as he stared at Ray. He’d returned just in time to keep me from launching myself at the asshole and scratching his eyes out. Lucky Ray.

      “Good evening, Mr. Hessler.” Ray held out his hand. “I’m not sure you remember me. I work with Violet.”

      Wolfgang was slow to grant a handshake, and quickly pulled his hand back, wiping it on his napkin afterward as he dropped into his seat. “Yes. Ralph, isn’t it?”

      “Ray, actually.”

      “Right. Are you here alone?”

      “No. My nephew is sitting by the window. He’s a real estate agent, too. We’re celebrating a new job he’s about to land.”

      “Good for you. He must be getting lonely.” Wolfgang’s eyes were on me now, his gaze searching. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. His fingers were warm, rougher than I’d expected for a man who played with jewelry for a living. “Sorry about Mrs. Stine’s interruption.”

      I smiled. “No problem.”

      “Feel like dancing?”

      “Love to.”

      He kept hold of my hand as he helped me to my feet. “If you’ll excuse us, Ralph,” he said without looking in Ray’s direction.

      “Don’t forget to pencil me into your dance card, Blondie.” Ray threw out his parting shot as I walked away.

      Chin held high, I followed Wolfgang onto the dance floor, relaxing into him as his arms encircled me. The spicy smell of his skin almost erased Ray’s sleaziness from my mind. Almost.

      “Have I told you how great you look tonight?” he said for my ears only.

      I chuckled. “More than once.”

      We moved in silence around the dance floor for a few beats.

      “What did he say?” Wolfgang asked.

      “Who?”

      “Your co-worker.”

      “Oh.” I hesitated, shoving aside several nasty replies and the ugly truth. “He just complimented me on my dress.”

      “Liar.” Wolfgang drew back and stared at me. “I saw your face when he leaned in close.”

      “Uhhh.” The truth was too embarrassing. “He reminded me of something I need to tell you.”

      “Which is?”

      The “right moment” I’d been waiting for all evening pulled into the station. I sighed. “I won’t be able to put your house on the market before the end of the month.”

      “Why not?”

      “Have you heard of the Deadwood Historical Committee?”

      “In passing.”

      “Well, before we can fix up the exterior of your place, we need to get a Certificate of Appropriateness from them.”

      He grinned. Not the response I’d expected.

      “It might take until the end of August before I get everything approved.”

      His smile widened.

      I was speaking English, right? “Why do you look happy about this?”

      “It means I’m stuck here in Deadwood longer.”

      “Exactly.”

      “With you as my Realtor.”

      “Yes.” Well, maybe. That depended on Doc, my only buyer.

      “I can think of worse fates.”

      Easy for him to say. He wasn’t single and supporting two children in need of new school clothes.

      “Unless you are willing to consider selling your house as-is.” I crossed my fingers behind his back.

      If he took the bait, I could plant a For Sale sign in his yard tomorrow and send out word that there was a hell of a deal available in the Presidential district. If Wolfgang let me price it low enough, I might be able to attract other Realtors looking to flip the house in addition to regular buyers.

      “As-is?” He frowned at me for several seconds.

      I held my breath and hoped for an answer that could help save my job.

      “No, I can wait longer.” He pulled me close again, resting his jaw against my forehead. “It allows me more time to get to know you.”

      I groaned inwardly, wishing I was at home on the couch in my sweats with a gallon of peanut butter fudge ice cream in hand and Elvis’
Viva Las Vegas
on the boob tube. The hot and horny rumblings I’d felt earlier were now stilled by reality’s cold, clammy grip.

      My toes ached in my stilettos by the time the song finally came to an end. Wolfgang led me back to our table, where I dropped into my seat.

      “Are you interested in anything else to drink?” The waiter asked as he made his rounds.

      Wolfgang looked at me with raised brows.

      Getting stone drunk sounded perfect right about now, but I shook my head and tried to hide my worries behind a fake grin. “No, thanks.”

      “Just the check, please.” Wolfgang turned to me after the waiter left. “What’s the plan now that remodeling has been placed on hold until the paperwork game plays out?”

      “Well, the commission’s rules apply only to the outside, so I think we should get started on cleaning up the inside.”

      “Sounds good. Mother will hate the idea of strangers in her house.”

      “
Will?
” I pointed out his slip of the tongue with a smile to soften it.

      He waved off my question. “Sometimes it seems like she’s still hanging around, cooking sauerkraut, telling me to mow the lawn. She was never the warm, loving type, but I certainly miss her apple strudel.”

      Not sure if I should dwell on the emotional moment or continue with business, I chose the most comfortable option. “I’ll wait until the house is empty before hiring a cleaner.”

      Maybe Margo could fit me into her cleaning schedule now that I had a month with which to play. I’d have to give her a call tomorrow.

      I tossed back the last of my water as Wolfgang paid for dinner, my stomach fluttery at the thought of a possible goodnight kiss. I should have listened to Addy and packed my toothbrush along, but I’d been too pissed at her for her part in snagging my green dress to even glance her way before we left.

      As Wolfgang and I stood to leave, I gazed across the room at Ray and his nephew, whose back was to me. Was I willing to exchange sex for my job tonight? It was just bodily fluids, right? No kissing, no fondling, just in and out—literally. I could close my eyes, pretend I was with Wolfgang, maybe Doc. The old “take one for the team” mantra. How tough could it be?

      Ray looked up and caught my stare. He blew me a kiss.

      I recoiled, my alcoholic buzz replaced by Ray-induced queasiness. Nope, that was not going to happen.

      Wolfgang placed his hand on my lower back. “You ready?”

      The trip home was quick and quiet. Too soon, Wolfgang was strolling up the walk with me.

      “Thanks for dinner. I had a wonderful time.”

      “My pleasure. Will you dine with me again after I return from San Francisco?”

      “I’d love to.”

      The front window curtain twitched. We had an audience.

      I stopped at the base of the porch steps. “Oh, I meant to ask, did you send me flowers yesterday?”

      He shook his head, his white teeth gleaming in the feeble glow of the porch light.

      If it wasn’t Doc or Wolfgang, who was it? Harvey?

      “Sounds like I have some competition,” he said.

      “I guess you do.” The image of Doc’s dark stare stirred my thoughts before I could blink it away.

      Wolfgang took my hand and tugged me toward him.

      My heart throbbed in my throat. Here it was, the magic moment—stars twinkling, crickets chirping, Aunt Zoe’s honeysuckle blooms perfuming the night air. My pulse sped like a chipmunk on Red Bull, my lips tingled, my armpits dampened.

      I hadn’t kissed a man in almost two years, and that guy had smelled like onions and could have been the missing link between modern humans and the Neanderthals. I shivered, feeling like I was fifteen again, learning all about teenage hormones with Johnny Dean on a ten-minute break from Driver’s Education class.

      “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night,” Wolfgang whispered.

      “Ah, hah. My telepathic powers worked.”

      His chuckle vibrated in his chest. “Any objections?”

      I raised my chin, ready and waiting. “Nope, but you’d better hurry. My kids already know we’re out here. With Natalie in a cast, I don’t know how long she can keep them penned in.”

      He touched my hair, twisting a loose curl around his finger. “You have beautiful eyes, Violet. Beautiful skin. Beautiful hair.” 

      His wooing technique was a winner. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, giving him the green light. Seconds ticked by. Then more seconds.

      “I think we have an audience,” Wolfgang said.

       I opened my eyes, expecting to see my kids with their faces plastered against the window, but they weren’t there. “We do? I don’t see Addy or Layne.”

      “I’m not talking about your children.” Wolfgang nodded toward the street.

      I followed his gaze, squinting in the dark. Under a Ponderosa pine, about a half-block down the road, stood the shadowed silhouette of a man.

      Somebody was watching us.

      * * *

     
Saturday, July 14th

      Old Man Harvey was on the prowl for houses—prematurely, in my opinion. However, Harvey wasn’t interested in listening to what I had to say.