Two of a Kind (14 page)

Isabel laughed. Consuelo waited for the other two women to say they had to leave, too. Or wait for her to go. She’d only just met them, and that was only because Felicia had invited her.

Consuelo knew she had nothing in common with the other women at the table. They’d grown up in quiet towns and cities, on the right side of the tracks. It wasn’t that she would guess no one else at the table had scars from bullets or knives, it was that if they knew what she’d done—at first out of necessity and then because she was good at it—they would never want to have anything to do with her again.

“Have a good time with Justice,” Isabel said, then glanced at Consuelo. “Noelle and I were going to stay for dinner. Will you join us?”

“Say yes,” Noelle urged. “We can be very fun.”

“That would be nice,” Consuelo said, before she could think of a reason to leave. In truth, she wanted to fit in, too. She shared Felicia’s desire to be normal but for different reasons. Like her friend, she probably wouldn’t get there, but she could fake it.

Isabel waved toward the woman behind the bar, who nodded, indicating she’d be over soon. “One of the advantages of living in Fool’s Gold. We can walk everywhere, so there’s no drinking and driving issue.” She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Okay, I know you’re friends with Felicia and that you’ve been in the military. Were you in logistics, too?”

“Not exactly.”

They both stared at her expectantly.

“I was an operative. Some undercover work.”

Noelle’s blue eyes widened. “You were a spy? Like James Bond? Only, you know, a girl?”

“That’s me,” Consuelo said lightly, then smiled. “Actually it’s not that interesting. I would move to an area, get to know the locals, find out what was going on.” Seduce an enemy agent and, if necessary, kill him. But she wasn’t going to share that part.

“So you’re trained in self-defense and stuff?” Isabel asked.

Consuelo nodded. “I’ll be in charge of a lot of the training at CDS.”

Noelle looked confused for a second. “You mean the bodyguard school. That’s what we town folk call it.”

“Town folk?” Consuelo asked.

Noelle grinned. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m with her.” Isabel wrinkled her nose. “Town folk? What is this, the 1940s?” She looked at Consuelo. “You have the best abs. You probably work out, huh?”

Consuelo thought about the punching bag she’d spent an hour on that morning. “Most days.”

Isabel sighed. “I should work out. I think about it. I don’t suppose that counts.”

“Sincerity totally counts,” Noelle told her. “It’s all about attitude.”

“Sit-ups help, too,” Consuelo said drily.

Isabel smiled. “I seriously don’t see that happening, but you will be my inspiration.”

The woman from behind the bar walked over. She turned to Consuelo. “I’m Jo. We haven’t met.”

“Consuelo.”

“You’re with CDS,” Jo said, and chuckled. “For what it’s worth, both Angel and Ford are scared of you.”

“Good. That’s how I want things.”

“I can respect that.” She glanced at the nearly empty glasses. “Another round?” she asked.

“Yes,” Isabel said. “And chips and guacamole, and then we’ll talk about dinner.”

Jo wrote down their order and left.

Noelle picked up her margarita, then put it down. “Are you going to lecture us on not eating right?”

“No,” Consuelo said. “I’m going to order an extra bowl of chips.”

“We’re going to be such good friends.” Noelle sat up straighter. “I know. What if you taught an exercise class? Something like ‘exercise for the woefully out of shape’? I could do that. You’d make it fun.”

Isabel nodded. “I agree, although I’m painfully aware you’d also kick our butts. But I’m going to be thirty in a couple of years.”

Consuelo smiled, liking Isabel’s breezy personality. “You just said you weren’t interested in exercise.”

“I’m not, but I can be motivated by fear. Gravity is going to start making things move. At least that’s what my mother has always told me.”

“Your mom is in town?” Consuelo asked.

“Not at the moment. She and my father are taking a cruise around the world. It’s actually a series of cruises with lots of weeks here and there in between. They’re going to be gone nearly a year. That’s one of the reasons I’m back in Fool’s Gold. I’m working in the family business.” She paused for effect. “Paper Moon.”

“It’s a bridal shop,” Noelle added. “Very nice. They carry prom dresses and other kinds of gowns, too.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. “My sister is too busy popping out kids to deal with the business. My parents want to sell it and I’m recovering from a divorce, so here I am. I’m going to fix it up, find a buyer and when it sells, I get a cut of the proceeds. Then it’s
adios
for me.”

“You’re not staying in town?” Consuelo asked.

Isabel shook her head. “Been there, done that, and I have an entire wardrobe of festival T-shirts.”

One of the servers returned with two margaritas, a beer, chips, salsa and guacamole.

Noelle reached for a chip. “I don’t get wanting to leave. I love it here.”

“You just arrived,” Isabel said. “Give it twenty years.”

“I’ll love it more, I swear. If only I could find the right guy.”

“I hear Mrs. Hendrix is taking applications,” Consuelo said, thinking she couldn’t wait for Ford to find out about his mother’s plan. That was going to be quite the show.

“I haven’t met Kent,” Noelle said, then lowered her voice. “But I couldn’t date Ford. Isabel’s still in love with him.”

Consuelo wondered if Ford knew and, if he did, what he would think about that tidbit of info.

Isabel glared across the table. “I’m not. I haven’t spoken to the man in years.”

“You
were
in love with him.”

“It was a crush.” She looked at Consuelo. “I was fourteen and he was engaged to my sister. She cheated on him, he left town and I wrote him. End of story.”

“It’s not really the end of the story,” Noelle said confidentially. “She has feelings.”

“I feel like I’m going to have to lock you in a closet or something.”

Consuelo sipped her beer. “Don’t make me separate you two.”

Noelle leaned toward her. “You said that so casually, but it was totally scary. How do you do that? You’re petite and yet completely intimidating. I admire that.”

“It’s a lot of training,” Consuelo said, knowing that she’d learned how to take care of herself early on. Growing up on the street meant figuring out how to survive. One of her favorite movies was
The Shawshank Redemption.
Whenever she got into a tough spot, she reminded herself she had to get busy living or get busy dying. She’d always chosen to err on the side of living.

“You could still date Kent,” Consuelo said, to distract them.

“I haven’t met Kent,” Noelle admitted again.

“He’s nice enough.” Isabel scooped salsa onto a chip. “He’s a typical Hendrix. Tall, dark hair and eyes. Good-looking enough, I guess.”

“But not Ford?” Noelle teased.

Isabel rolled her eyes. “I’m ignoring you.” She turned to Consuelo. “He’s a math teacher. Has a son. Reese. He’s eleven or twelve. There was a divorce, and I don’t know much more.”

“Maybe I’ll go apply,” Noelle said. “Of course then I’ll be one of the many. The potential for rejection seems huge.” She raised her eyebrows. “What about you, Consuelo? Any interest in either Hendrix son?”

“No, thanks. I’ve known Ford a long time and he’s not my type.”

“Why not?”

“The last thing I want in my life is another swaggering soldier.”

Noelle poked Isabel in the arm. “Does Ford swagger? Does it make your heart beat faster when he does?”

“You’re really annoying, you know that?” Isabel turned to Consuelo. “Kent isn’t a soldier.”

“It wouldn’t be a good fit,” Consuelo said lightly. In truth she knew there was no way a guy smart enough to be a math teacher would be interested in a woman like her. Especially a man with a child. He would take one look at her, see her for what she was and walk away. It had happened before.

Isabel sighed. “I’ll bet you walk in the room and all the men turn and stare.”

“With their tongues hanging out,” Noelle added. “Must be nice.”

* * *

THE SUN WAS still high in the sky, but large trees provided shade. Felicia smoothed her napkin across her lap, trying to convince herself there was no reason to be nervous. She’d had sex with Gideon—this was only dinner. Shouldn’t it be easy? After all, they were both wearing clothes.

But from the second he’d picked her up, through the drive to the Hibiscus Winery, to being seated at this lovely outdoor table, she’d found herself unable to think of a single thing to say.

Maybe it was how Gideon looked. He was wearing dark-wash jeans and a long-sleeved pale blue shirt. Not dressy but not completely casual, either. His shaggy hair had been trimmed, and he’d recently shaved.

Because this was a date, she thought. And she didn’t know how to be on a date.

“This is nice,” he said, glancing around.

Trees shaded the west side of the patio. Beyond them and north of the property were vineyards.

“The trees are mostly indigenous,” she said. “Various pine, white fir and California black oak. Black oak is one of the more useful trees in the area. Over fifty species of bird are thought to use the trees, and the acorns provide a substantial part of the winter diet for squirrels and black-tailed deer. The California black oak has adapted to the wildfires that used to be common in this part of the country. Its thick bark provides protection from smaller fires, and it grows back easily after a major fire.”

She paused. “Which is probably more than you wanted to know about a local tree.”

Gideon gave her a slow smile. “You’re not boring. I like that.” He glanced at the trees. “I have a lot more respect for the California black oak than I did.”

She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her in a gentle, “I like you” way or making fun of her. She hoped it was the former.

A young woman in black pants and a white shirt walked toward them. “Good evening. Thanks for joining us for dinner. I’ll be your server. Tonight we have several specials along with three different wine flights.”

She explained about the wine choices. Felicia and Gideon decided they would each try the red wine flight and ordered a selection of appetizers to start.

“How’s the new job going?” he asked.

“I’m still adjusting and learning. I went to the X-treme Waterski festival with Pia. She walked me through what happened before, during and after.” She paused, wondering how honest she could be.

“What?” he asked.

“It was disorganized. Some of the booth placements surprised me, and the bathroom situation wasn’t efficient.”

She smoothed her napkin again. “I liked meeting the competitors. They’re remarkably skilled. While I understand the physics of waterskiing, I doubt it’s something at which I could succeed.” She wrinkled her nose. “In fact, I picture myself falling over and over.”

“You’d look good in a bikini, though.”

Felicia opened her mouth, then closed it. She felt heat on her cheeks. The involuntary response to unexpected attention, she thought. Or perhaps it was the sexual innuendo in the compliment. The pleasure of knowing he enjoyed her body.

“A one-piece bathing suit is more practical for sports.”

He sighed heavily. “Well, if you have to be practical.”

She laughed.

The server appeared with five glasses of wine for each of them. There was only a small amount in each. She explained about the various wines and then laid out the appetizers and left.

“Dinner’s gotten complicated,” Gideon said.

“The different wines and foods allow us to find the most pleasing combinations. Salty with sweet, spicy with acidic and so on.” She pressed her lips together.
Not every conversation has to be a lecture,
she reminded herself. “Sorry.”

He frowned. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I have too much information in my head. Not everyone wants to know that the phrase ‘Get your ducks in a row’ in Latin is
Instrue omnes anates tuas in acie.
”

He picked up the first glass. “I’ll sleep better with that information.”

“You’re just being nice.”

“Ask around, Felicia. I’m not nice.”

“Actually you are. The people in town think well of you.”

She watched him as she spoke, noting the moment he stiffened, as if finding himself in a trap.

“That compliment doesn’t make you happy?”

“No.”

His honesty surprised her. “Because you’re not capable of fitting in and if they think you do, they’ll expect too much?”

He studied her. “Got it in one. I should remember you’re familiar with the warrior psyche.”

“As much as I can be. I’m not one of those who believes that men and women have the same neurophysiology. Our brains are wired very differently, and because of that, we process information differently. But I was with the military long enough to have a working knowledge of how soldiers think and react.” She paused. “As much as one can generalize from the group to the individual.”