Hometown Honey. Kara Lennox

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СКАЧАТЬ the good grace to look slightly ashamed. “He checked out,” was all he said.

      As Cindy had known he would. She hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck yesterday. She’d done a little checking of her own. Dexter Shalimar, though notoriously publicity wary and camera shy, was considered Houston’s hottest bachelor and one of its richest residents. His company, Shalimar Holdings, was one of the largest privately owned real-estate-development companies in the nation and one of the few that didn’t take a terrible beating during the recent recession. He’d never been married, had no children, had never been arrested. He was a major contributor to several charities and had come in seventeenth last year in the Boston Marathon. What was not to like?

      As to whether she loved him—well, that was another matter. Jim would always occupy a very special place in her heart, and he couldn’t be shoved aside. But she was very, very fond of Dex, Adam seemed to adore him and she knew of many strong marriages based on mutual respect and affection.

      Luke finished his biscuit and took his coffee in a to-go cup, as always. At about seven-thirty, the town-square business owners started arriving. Then, a little later, the moms who’d gotten their kids off to school showed up, along with the retirees. The breakfast trade had hardly let up before the early lunch crowd started trickling in.

      It was a good, busy morning. But then, the café had always been a moneymaker. An unofficial historic landmark, it had supported Cindy’s family comfortably for generations. Still, Cindy had never felt any real attachment to the business. She’d worked here evenings and weekends and summers since she could remember, with the exception of the eight years she’d traveled the country with Jim in his 18-wheeler. To her, the Miracle Café meant turning down every other opportunity that had come her way—cheerleading, drama club, soccer. Her parents had worked twelve-hour days, seven days a week, and she’d been expected to follow suit.

      The workload had only gotten worse since her mother’s death. As the sole owner, Cindy found it nearly impossible to take a long weekend, much less ramble around the country.

      Now that she had Adam, she thought as she transferred a selection of meringue pies from cooling racks in the kitchen to the glass-fronted bakery case out front, the café was even more confining. She brought the baby to work with her, as Tonya did, where all the waitresses and even the busboys took turns spoiling him. But Cindy herself was so busy, she didn’t feel as if she spent enough time with him.

      That would all change in a couple of months, she thought with a warm glow. She would travel from one adventure to another, the way she’d always dreamed. And once she and Dex were married, she was going to travel with him—she and Adam. She’d seen a lot of her own country before Jim’s death. Now, the world would be her oyster.

      “Cindy?” It was Tonya, a water pitcher in one hand, menus in the other. “Those two ladies in booth three want to speak to you.”

      Cindy glanced over to the booth by the window. In it sat two women, both blond, both obviously not from Cottonwood. One was dressed in a business suit, her artfully highlighted hair twisted into a complicated configuration atop her head. The other had really funky, spiky, frosted hair and an abundance of silver jewelry.

      Could be a real-estate agent and her client, she thought optimistically. Cindy smoothed her apron, wiped her hands on a towel and, with a parting glance at Luke that told him to stop messing with her, she approached the women.

      “Hello,” she said brightly. “I’m Cindy Lefler, owner of the Miracle Café.” She stretched her hand out in greeting to the one in the business suit.

      The other woman squeezed her hand briefly. She didn’t smile. “Sonya Patterson. And this is Brenna Thompson. Please, could you sit down?” She indicated the red vinyl banquette across from her.

      Cindy sat next to the one called Brenna, feeling apprehensive. “What can I do for you?”

      Sonya set a leather briefcase on the table and snapped open the locks. She withdrew a color photo and slid it across the table toward Cindy. “Do you know this man?”

      The photo was a bit blurry, as if it had been blown up. Clearly the man in the picture had had his arm around someone else, who’d been cropped out.

      “Of course. That’s my fiancé, Dexter Shalimar,” Cindy said tightly.

      Sonya’s eyes seemed to grow brighter and Brenna sat forward slightly. “The real-estate tycoon?” Brenna asked. “That Dexter Shalimar?”

      “Yes. Is it so unbelievable that he would want to marry a waitress?”

      Neither woman answered Cindy’s question. Instead Sonya asked, “Do you know where he is? Right this moment, I mean?”

      “Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s in Malaysia on a business trip. Look, what is this about?” Cindy had an unpleasant crawly sensation at the back of her neck.

      Sonya sank back in her seat. “Oh, I hope I’m not too late.”

      “Too late for what?”

      “I don’t know how to tell you this except to just blurt it out. The man in that photo is not Dexter Shalimar. His name is Marvin Carter and he’s a con man.”

      Cindy’s face grew hot. “I don’t know who you think you are or what you’re trying to pull, but Dexter Shalimar is no con man. Would a con man give a woman a ring like this?” She always tucked her three-carat engagement ring into her pocket while she was working. She pulled it out now and flashed the enormous pear-shaped diamond under Sonya’s nose.

      Sonya gave the ring a perfunctory glance. “Hmm. It looks a lot like mine.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a ring that was identical to Cindy’s.

      “And mine.” Brenna opened her leather backpack and also produced a similar ring.

      “I assume you haven’t had it appraised,” Sonya said. “It’s a cubic zirconia. Worth about twenty-eight bucks. I think he buys them by the gross.”

      “I don’t believe you,” Cindy said flatly. “He is Dex Shalimar. He drives a Porsche 911. He’s just bought us a million-dollar penthouse. I’ve been there.”

      “Oh, the penthouse on Riva Row?” asked Sonya. “That would be my penthouse. Or it used to be mine, until he sold it out from under me, pocketed the cash and skipped town.”

      Cindy’s head was beginning to buzz. This couldn’t be true—it just couldn’t be. “I want you to leave,” Cindy said frostily.

      “Of course.” Sonya flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I know how hard this is, believe me. But check your bank accounts. If there’s still any money in them, count yourself lucky. And change your account numbers.”

      Sonya slid out of the booth. Brenna scrambled after her. They both looked at Cindy sadly, as if she were a puppy they were leaving behind at the dog pound. Then they left the café, Sonya’s heels tapping on the linoleum floor.

      Cindy just sat there. Should she try to get in touch with Dex, tell him two mad women were running around maligning him? He’d said he would be out of touch. But surely his company would know how to contact him.

      Then an awful, alien thought stirred in her brain. She should call the bank. Just to be sure.

      Someone scooted into the booth СКАЧАТЬ