“What are you wearing?” Nicky asked, still not sure the sophisticated creature in front of her was her sister.
Twirling into the room, Emily said, “It’s a halter jersey dress. Do you like it?”
Nicky laughed at the saucy gleam in her sister’s eyes. “You look incredible, but what’s the reason for your flirty dress? And lunch with your sister doesn’t count.”
“Does there need to be a reason?”
Nicky gave her a level stare. Emily always had a reason for everything she did.
“All right, I’ll tell you. But don’t look too obvious when I take you into the café.”
“I promise to do my best ostrich impersonation ever. I can bury my head in the sand as deep as the next person.” There had to be a man involved somewhere. Emily’s clothes were a dead give-away and the smile on her face nailed it.
“Last week the owner of the Sugar Loaf Café came and spoke to our design class about starting a business. As well as being seriously rich, the man’s drop dead gorgeous. I thought lunch would be the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with the owner of the café, add to his gross profit, and enjoy each other’s company all at the same time.”
“I’m impressed. You’re finally getting the hang of multi-tasking.”
“Exactly.”
Nicky smiled at the mischievous grin on her sister’s face. “How do you know he’ll be there?”
“I did a little research yesterday and asked the lunch staff what days he works the front counter.”
While her computer logged off, Nicky reached for her bag. “He works the front counter?”
“A real hands on man,” Emily sighed. “Are you ready to see how good my taste in men is?”
“Lead the way, little sister. I’m all yours until one o’clock.”
***
The Sugar Loaf Café was the total opposite of what Nicky expected. Black wrought iron chairs surrounded tables covered in white tablecloths, haphazardly arranged around a large room with an impossibly high vaulted ceiling. A huge black crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room, catching the midday light streaming through glass doors along the far wall.
Everything about the café was oversized and opulent; from the lush plants softening the edges of the room, to the balcony overlooking the mountains. It was a café designed to let its clients sit back and enjoy the best of what Bozeman had to offer.
If the inside of the café wasn’t enough to tempt a visitor into staying, the smell of freshly baked bread and rich roasted coffee would make their mind up for them. Emily pulled her toward a line of people waiting to order their lunch.
Nicky looked at the selection of lunchtime treats, thankful that Mr. Sugar Loaf Café had made a big impression on her sister. “This is incredible. I don’t know how I’m going to choose what to have.”
Emily laughed. “Wait till you see the owner. I made my mind up pretty fast about him.”
“Before your hormones go into overdrive, grab something to eat. I’ve only got another forty minutes before we need to leave.”
The smile dropped off Emily’s face. “You don’t need to worry about rushing. It looks as though your boss is set for the afternoon.”
Nicky’s hand jerked away from the mushroom and bacon panini she’d been about to put on her plate. “What are you talking about?”
“Over there on the balcony. He’s holding the brunette’s hand and gazing into her eyes.”
Nicky tried to look casually over her shoulder, but couldn’t see him.
“Oh, for goodness sake. Turn around, he’s over there.” Emily pulled her toward the balcony, pointing directly at a table. “There, sitting under the large blue sun umbrella.”
Whatever they were up to looked serious. Nicky’s heart plummeted as Sam clutched the hand of the woman sitting beside him. A very attractive woman with long jet-black hair.
The two-timing, ground rotting, toad. One night of concentrated passion and a couple of heated kisses weren’t enough for him. He wanted dessert with whipped cream and all the toppings. The fact she wasn’t prepared to offer him a second course hadn’t deterred him from indulging his sweet tooth.
“Are you all right?”
Grabbing the first thing her fingers touched, Nicky moved along the line of lunchtime diners. “I’m fine. Just a bit surprised Sam’s cuddling up to Snow White.”
Emily looked back at the balcony. “Don’t be too quick to judge him. I’d say it’s more like Snow White’s cuddling up to Sam. She’s moved in so close you can hardly see daylight between their bodies. Doesn’t the woman have any shame? The man’s practically taken and she’s schmoozing up to him like he’s stuck in the Arctic without any clothes on.”
The thought of Sam without any clothes on sent of rush of heat screaming through Nicky’s body. She turned in horror to stare at her sister. “What do you mean, ‘practically taken’? Who’s he been dating?” If it was possible for her heart to sink further it did. The Titanic couldn’t have dropped as quickly or as suddenly.
Did she have sucker written all over her forehead? Visions of double F breasted women from two years ago danced in front of her eyes. He’d been only too happy to parade a bevy a beautiful women under her nose after he’d made love to her. It hadn’t stopped him then and it didn’t seem to be stopping him now.
“You, you ding-a-ling. Every time I come into the office or arrive unexpectedly at your apartment, Sam isn’t far away. It’s like he’s attached by an umbilical cord to your heart.”
The plate in Nicky’s hand clattered to the counter.
Emily grabbed the quiche as it slipped dangerously close toward the floor. “I thought you didn’t like eggs?”
“What?”
“Eggs. You put quiche on your plate. You never eat eggs.”
Nicky looked down. Damn. “How hungry are you?”
Emily stopped in her tracks. “Getting hungrier by the minute. Give it to me and look ahead. Mr. Sugar Loaf Café just arrived.”
Lunch was going from bad to worse. First they’d caught Sam making cow eyes at Snow White and now Emily was swooning over a total stranger. Stepping into a singles club had to be less dangerous than going to lunch with her sister.
Nicky was determined not to let Sam Delaney spoil her appetite. She grabbed the first plate of food she saw. A chicken pasta dish ended up on her tray along with a huge piece of boysenberry, custard, and apple pie.
Following Emily, she waited patiently while other customers ordered their coffees and paid for their meals. She glanced casually over her shoulder. Snow White had managed to break her grip on Sam’s hand long enough to sip her drink. As he laughed at something she said, daggers shot from Nicky’s eyes. Bastard.
Over the clatter of plates and conversation, Nicky vaguely heard Emily chatting up Mr. Sugar Loaf Café.
“Nicky?”
“Hmm?”
“Drink. What would you like to drink?” Emily stared at her like she was brain dead.
Nicky glanced at the blackboard menu. Ordering something cold and sticky that would keep a certain male’s hands to himself sounded like a pretty fine idea to her. Tipping the lot over his head had even more appeal. “Vanilla milkshake, please. Double thick.” Too bad about calories. Fat content had no place in the life of a woman twice spurned by the same man. “And could I have some cream with the pie?”
Fresh milk and ice cream whizzed around a glass blender. Mr. Sugar Loaf Café poured the milkshake into a tall glass, grating white chocolate over the top. Sam Delaney wouldn’t end up anywhere near Nicky’s decadent treat. She wasn’t about to waste a perfectly good milkshake on a man who didn’t appreciate quality when he saw it.
Emily looked at Nicky’s tray of food.
“I’m hungry,” she hissed. The frown on Emily’s face almost made her laugh. Almost.
Emily turned back to the counter, batting her eyelashes and flirting outrageously with the owner of the café. She could see why Emily wanted to make a big impression.
He had hair as black as night, carelessly pushed back from a face and body that would have left more than one heart fluttering in the design class. His slate gray eyes waited patiently while Emily finished her performance.
If Nicky was a good judge of character, he wasn’t buying into her sister’s ego stroking routine one bit. But judging anyone by her standards left a large margin of error. Look at the mess she’d made with Sam. Twice.
At least Mr. Sugar Loaf Café’s eyes weren’t brown. That had to count for something.
Nicky used her foot to nudge Emily along. It was time to give the poor man a break. “Come on. I can see an empty table.” She didn’t wait to see if her sister followed. Grabbing her lunch tray she headed across the room, leaving a wide berth around the happy couple under the blue sun umbrella.
“What do you think?” Emily whispered as they sat down against the far wall.
“Decors great, food looks wonderful and the view is incredible.” As long as you ignored the two love birds on the balcony.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Not the café. Andrew. What did you think of him?”
“Mr. Sugar Loaf Café has a name?”
“Andrew Holloway. Thirty-one years old, heterosexual, single, hard working and rich.” Flicking a napkin on her lap, Emily batted her baby-blues in Nicky’s direction.
“And you got all that information from a fashion design class on starting your own business?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I have other sources.” A smug smile drifted across Emily’s face. “Carol Simmons is bosom buddies with Zofie Anderson. Zofie lives in the same building as Andrew. She knows everything about him.”
“Really? Did she tell you that he doesn’t seem the type to get the warm fuzzies from women throwing themselves at his feet?”
“Meow, kitty cat. What’s got your fur standing on end?” Emily tapped a finger against her chin. “Let me guess. Would Samuel Delaney and his lunch date have anything to do with your bad mood?”
“Ha, as if that rat bag could spoil lunch with my favorite sister.” To prove her point she pushed a huge fork of pasta into her mouth.
“I’m your only sister,” Emily said dryly. “And as such I feel I have a moral obligation to snoop into your life.”
“This coming from a woman who didn’t show many morals two seconds ago?”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Emily pouted. “And morals don’t count when a girl’s flirting.”
“No,” Nicky said. “That wasn’t flirting. That was leaning as far across the counter as you could possibly get without spilling your boobs in his hands.”
With feigned innocence, Emily said, “I have a bra on. Nothing would have happened.”
Raising her eyebrows, Nicky looked at the voluptuous expanse of chest on display.
“Okay…so it’s a push up bra. He didn’t seem offended.”
Nicky sat back in her chair. “No, he wasn’t offended.” Amused, maybe. Intrigued, definitely. “I’m being bitchy, sorry.” She looked down at her plate, wondering what on earth had possessed her to buy enough food for two meals. A quick look toward the balcony told her why.
Emily plucked at the front of her dress, pulling the bodice a little higher. “No need to be sorry. I can tell when you’re on the verge of an emotional meltdown. So what’s up with Sam? You seemed to be on friendly terms last night, or was his presence at your dinner table an hallucination?”
“He was there. And before your imagination starts filling in the blanks, nothing happened.”
“Nothing? Tell me that when you’re not blushing like a ripe tomato.”
Emily ate some quiche, giving Nicky a chance to think of something to tell her. The problem was, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Sam’s appearance with his lunch date had fried her brain cells to a crisp.
“Yum, the quiche is great,” Emily grinned. “Well?”
Poking at the chicken on her plate, Nicky kept her gaze as far away as possible from her sister’s teasing smile. “A slight peck on the cheek, that’s all.” Kind of, in a very roundabout way. Especially if you took into consideration the close proximity of a person’s cheek to their mouth.
“Really?” Emily’s eyes went as round as saucers.
“Really.”
“So when did you have sex?”
Nicky’s fork fell to the ground, spraying pasta and chicken over the floor. Leaning sideways, she grabbed the fork and picked up most of the spilled food. “I can’t believe you asked me that,” she muttered.
Emily stared at her with an innocent expression stuck on her face. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before now.”
Slurping her milkshake through a straw, Nicky tried to ignore the curious gaze of her sister. She would not divulge confidential information. Ever.
“Tell me now,” Emily whispered, “or I’m going to introduce myself to Snow White.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
Nicky groaned. “There were one or two climbing episodes involved.” Only if you discounted the times Sam crawled over her body, but she wasn’t counting those.
“I thought so,” Emily grinned. “Anyone with half a brain can tell Sam’s still interested in you. Keep going…”
Sucking another gulp of milkshake, Nicky hoped the ground would open up and swallow her whole. “A few weeks ago we…you know…”
“Bonked the living daylights out of each other?”
Heat scorched Nicky’s skin. Pushing the milkshake away, she kept her eyes locked on the food in front of her. “Umm…that just about sums it up.”
“So why is he having lunch with another woman if you’re keeping his toes warm at night?” Emily looked across the room, then back at Nicky. “This isn’t a repeat of what happened two years ago, is it?”
“Of course not.” It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. This time it had been about her needs. She’d taken what he’d offered and felt terrible afterward.
Emily’s gaze shot over her shoulder and her eyes went wide. “This has to be quick. It looks as though they’re heading this way. Do you love him?”
“What?”
“Quick. Do you love him?”
Nicky’s mouth streaked ahead of her brain. “Yes.”
A polite smile infused with a sprinkle of venom lifted the corners of Emily’s mouth into pure guard dog territory. “Sam. What a surprise.”
***
Sam stopped in the middle of the café, nearly tripping over his feet. Emily looked like she was about to cut him into tiny pieces and feed him to a grizzly. His gaze flicked to Nicky. She looked worse than her sister. Anger flashed across her face, followed quickly by disappointment.
She’d had the same look on her face two years ago when he’d dated a motorcade of high maintenance women, trying to wean her away from his company. Nicky’s reaction to his escape plan had been more like an emergency amputation. She’d packed her bags, heading to Denver faster than he could unravel himself from the clutches of his dates.
He’d felt as guilty as hell about her quick exit from Montana and he wasn’t feeling much better now. But for the life of him he couldn’t work out what had caused her to look like Santa had gone on strike and Christmas had been cancelled.
He followed her gaze to Renee.
Oh.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Nicky and Emily, this is Renee O’Flynn, Patrick’s wife.”
Nicky’s fork banged against the side of her plate. A look that wasn’t quite embarrassment darted across her face. Glancing at Renee, she mumbled, “Nice to meet you.”
Emily opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a high pitched squeal. “Excuse me, frog in my throat.” Glaring at Nicky, she started eating.
Sam stared between the two sisters. “I’ll see you back at work, Nicky. Bye Emily.”
Taking Renee’s elbow, he led her out the café in double quick time. Whatever had caused the scowl on Nicky’s face would have to wait until later. He h
ad an appointment with the company’s accountant in twenty minutes and a meeting with a group of property developers at three-thirty.
Making sure the fallout from Patrick’s deceit didn’t ruin the company’s reputation would take a lot of work. And if he didn’t start now, the cost to the company could be more devastating than the money Patrick had stolen.
***
Sam stared at the report sitting in front of him. Patrick’s fraud extended further than he’d imagined. The Oasis development wasn’t the first time he’d manufactured fake invoices. Their accountant had identified another two projects that had added a substantial amount of money to Patrick’s bank account.
The high speed clickety-clack of heels against the wooden floors could only mean Nicky was back from her meeting. No other female on his team was mad enough to wear the sky scrapers she strapped to her feet each morning.
Her heels didn’t slow down. They clicked past his door, echoing down the corridor as she disappeared inside her office.
What had she expected for God’s sake? An apology for having lunch with another woman? And not just any woman, but the wife of a friend he’d known for years. You couldn’t even call it a lunch date. Renee’s marriage was over, their bank account had been frozen, and her husband spent more time with his lawyer than his children. She’d apologized for Patrick’s behavior, but it wasn’t her apology he needed to hear.
Closing his door, he headed across to the window. He stared at the street below, letting his mind drift between the vehicles moving along the street.
Two years ago he’d stood in the same spot, trying to find a balance between his feelings for Nicky and keeping his career on track. He’d needed to prove to himself and everyone else that he could make something of his life. He wouldn’t let himself get sidetracked by emotions that meant nothing, or a woman that refused to settle for anything less than total commitment.
Forever After (Montana Brides, Book 3) Page 12