“Do you think he’s the father of her girls?”
“She refuses to say who is, but my money’s on him.”
“Does he know?”
“If not, he will soon enough. No one keeps a secret in this town.”
That last statement—imagined or real—sent Frankie into a state of panic. Coffee sloshed out of the pot and landed on her shoe, the result of her unsteady grip.
“You need to go. Now,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
Spence’s grin didn’t waver. “Can we talk first?”
He’d heard about the girls! She should leave for the preschool this very instant, not wait for Sam. At the least, she needed to call her youngest sister and warn her to...what? Pack the girls’ clothes so that Frankie could whisk them away?
“I owe you an apology,” Spence said, his tone sounding contrite in that boyish way of his. “More than one. I’d like the chance to issue them. That’s all.”
Okay. Perhaps he didn’t know. Frankie’s head swam. This was confusing. And alarming. She’d considered telling him about the girls a thousand times, always talking herself out of it before placing the call.
Was fate giving her a push, reminding her of all the good reasons she should inform Spence he was a father? Only one way to find out.
“I’m off at three,” she said.
“I just so happen to be free at three. I’ll pick you up.”
“No way. I’ll meet you. Six o’clock at the park.” And don’t talk to anyone in town between now and then.
His face lit with the same smile she remembered from high school, when they’d been assigned as lab partners in chemistry class, and he’d stolen her heart. He’d yet to return it, even to this day. In her weaker moments, she admitted she had yet to reclaim it.
Frankie started to speak, only to be cut off by the busboy tapping her on the shoulder.
“Tia Maria says for everyone to meet her in the office.”
The moment was here. The announcement naming her the new manager. Struggling to control the myriad emotions whirling around inside her, she shakily poured Spence’s coffee.
“Stay out of trouble,” she warned him before following the busboy, remembering at the last second to return the pot to the warmer.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Spence called after her, laughter in his voice.
Frankie balled her hands into fists. He would have to be every bit as good-looking as always. Tall, broad-shouldered, and perfectly proportioned in all the right places.
“A little advance notice would have been nice,” she grumbled to herself while untying her apron. She refused to be wearing an orange juice stain the size of a saucer when she accepted her promotion.
* * *
THE ENTIRE STAFF on duty, including the cook, had gathered in the area outside the manager’s office. Standing beside Tia Maria was the well-dressed man Frankie had noticed earlier. Who was he, and why was he there?
The café owner’s wrinkled face glowed as her glance encompassed everyone there. “I’ll make this short. I don’t want to keep the customers waiting.”
Frankie’s stomach churned. Damn Spence for showing up today of all days. She needed to be on her toes. Ready and alert. Not distracted by the thought of him sitting there.
Tia Maria’s gaze fell on Frankie, who went still. After a brief pause, it continued to the next person. “As you know, I’m retiring at the end of the month, and I promised to announce the new manager today.”
Frankie twisted the apron between her suddenly sweaty hands.
Tia Maria took the man’s arm and nudged him forward. “This is my nephew, Antonio. He moved from Las Cruces to take over for me. I’m very pleased the Cowboy Up Café will remain in the family.”
Frankie went numb all over as seven heads instantly swiveled in her direction. They’d all expected her to get the promotion, too.
She reached for the wall, feeling slightly unbalanced.
“I’m sorry,” someone near her murmured.
“Me, too.” Had she said that out loud? Her mouth didn’t seem to be working correctly. “Damn.”
She definitely said that out loud, though softly. She’d been counting on the promotion and the raise. She deserved it, after all her years of loyal service. For Tia Maria to bring in a family member without telling Frankie was unfair. Not to mention total nepotism.
Drawing in a breath, she straightened her spine, acutely aware of the stares aimed at her.
“Congratulations and welcome,” she said, with as much dignity and calm as she could muster. Then she spun on her heels, not caring if she received a reprimand later. She simply would not cry in front of these people.
Entering the dining area, she fully intended to bury herself in work as a defense against her acute disappointment. Naturally, the first person she noticed was Spence. He’d left the counter in order to join her sisters at their table. Of all the nerve!
Had they called him over? It was possible—Frankie’s entire family had always liked Spence. She didn’t worry that her sisters would say anything about the girls. Mel and Ronnie were completely trustworthy in that regard. So what were they talking about, with their heads bent together over the table? Frankie squinted. Was that his phone they were staring at?
Pictures. Had to be. Spence’s family had moved from Mustang Valley years ago. He was probably updating her sisters on the Bohanan doings. Their laughter floated across the room and grated on Frankie’s nerves.
It occurred to her that she’d completely forgotten to turn in his breakfast order. She did that now, rather than break her bad news to her sisters in front of him. They caught sight of her and gestured her over. She pretended not to see them.
One by one, the staff returned to their stations, unusually subdued. Frankie accepted a “Tough break” from Cook and an “I don’t know what she’s thinking” from one of the waitresses. Neither remark lifted her spirits. Worse, tears stung her eyes.
She sneaked off to the restroom, not caring about the customers or Tia Maria’s potential anger. Frankie needed a moment alone. Five minutes later, she felt strong enough to face the world again. On her way out of the restroom, she ran into Mel.
“I’m shocked,” her sister gushed. “Do you believe he’s here? Are you going to tell him about the girls?”
“Maybe. Yes. Probably.”
“Really? Jeez, Frankie. Are you ready?”
“We’re meeting at six. The park. Neutral territory.”
A customer emerged from the men’s room and gave them a nod as he passed.
Mel lowered her voice. “What will you say? I mean, you can’t just blurt out, ‘Hey, you’re a dad.’”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’d better hurry. Someone will say something if they haven’t already.”
“I know, I know.”
Mel’s demeanor abruptly changed. Grabbing her by both arms, she broke into a happy smile. “So, when do you officially start?”
Frankie had trouble forming the words. Before she could get any out, Tia Maria poked her head around the corner and crooked a finger at her. Uh-oh. She’d been caught slacking off.
“Call you later,” she told Mel, and didn’t wait for a reply.
Her employer led her to