Latte Trouble - By Cleo Coyle Page 0,48

and Lebreaux could have met for the first time tonight on the Fortune for all we know.”

“No,” said Matt. “She was with him the entire time in the yacht’s ‘backstage’ stateroom where all of us presenters were waiting to go on. She came with Eduardo Lebreaux, Clare. And she never said two words to anyone but him.”

“Okay, but I still say Tad is acting way too suspicious not to question.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I think I’m right.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Not me, Matt. It’s what you’re going to do.”

“Oh, please, Clare, don’t involve me again—”

“I just want you to set up a meeting with Tad downstairs. Invite Rena over for coffee, too.” I checked my watch. “Speaking of which, I have to get my butt down there and open.”

As I grabbed the thick set of keys from the top of the dresser, Matt crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why? Because we’re in the business of serving coffee and it’s time to open.”

Matt smirked at me. “Clare, why do you want me to set up a meeting with Tad Benedict and Rena Garcia?”

“Because,” I replied with a smirk of my own, “that Detective Starkey isn’t the only broad around here who can weasel a confession out of a suspect.”

EIGHTEEN

AS it turned out, Tad was too busy with his second Fortune seminar to meet with Matt any sooner than Friday morning. Consequently, Thursday came and went in a blur. From dawn till dusk I served customers, then spent most of the evening in my office juggling schedules, balancing books, finalizing the payroll—and, frankly, hiding from Matt.

After helping Gardner close, I quickly slipped upstairs to the master bedroom, firmly shut the door, and prayed my ex-husband wouldn’t come barging in. He didn’t. In fact, I didn’t see my ex again until Friday morning.

I was behind the coffee bar, tidying up after the morning rush, when Matt’s strong hands came down on my shoulders and began a slow massage. I jumped under Matt’s touch, not accustomed to—and not wanting—this new round of physical intimacy.

“I looked in on you late last night,” he rasped against my ear, “but you were already sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you, even though I was tempted…and, honey, was I tempted.”

I closed my eyes and silently cursed. I had no one to blame for this but myself, and it was now up to me to delicately redraw the lines that I never should have allowed to be erased in the first place. I didn’t want to hurt him, or our working partnership, but it was time I gathered my courage and opened my mouth, which I was about to do when Matt added—

“Tad’s here.”

I looked up, spied the paunchy, balding, elfin-faced man at the front door, and knew the subject of my relationship with my ex would have to be put on hold.

“Take him up to the second-floor lounge,” I told Matt. “I’ll be up in a minute with coffee.”

Matt greeted Tad and they shook hands, then my ex led our guest upstairs. I looked for Rena, too, but there was no sign of her. I put a service for four on the tray anyway, added a few muffins, a carafe of freshly brewed Breakfast Blend.

“Back in a little while,” I told Esther.

Her jaw dropped. “It’s just Moira and I as it is,” she complained.

“I’m doing this for Tucker,” I whispered over my shoulder as I hefted the tray and climbed the stairs.

I found the two men seated in the circle of overstuffed chairs situated next to the now-cold fireplace. Matt was grinning and chatting amicably. If there were any hard feelings about the overboard incident on the Fortune Wednesday night, I couldn’t see them. When I arrived, Tad rose to greet me while Matt took the tray and set it on the table. I poured and served.

“I brought Matt some good news,” said Tad, offering a self-satisfied smile. “Someone read his prospectus and expressed his wishes to invest in the kiosk idea. Apparently this individual is a real fan of the Village Blend.”

“I really appreciate this, Tad,” said Matt.

“And my way of apologizing for the…incident with Eduardo Lebreaux,” Tad replied.

“Forget it,” said Matt with a wave of his hand.

“No, really. I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of idiot,” Tad insisted. “Lebreaux’s prospectus came in two months ago and I figured one’s tea and the other is coffee so why not include them both…”.

Tad shrugged sheepishly. “Then without