A Town Called Valentine - By Emma Cane Page 0,50

but she wasn’t there either. He heard the tapping of her feet down the steps, and she came in the back door a moment later. She’d changed into a flowered top that flattered her without being too revealing.

She blushed. “I needed my purse,” she said, a bit defensively.

He arched a brow.

“And that shirt was dirty and sweaty. I wasn’t going to wear it to lunch. I happen to like the people in this town, and they don’t need to see me at my worst.”

“You’ve certainly met enough of them,” he said over his shoulder as he walked into the front of the building.

“Through no fault of my own, believe me. I thought I was going to clean, sell, and be out of here, but life had other plans.”

“Don’t you know a lot of people in San Francisco?” he asked, as they left the building, and he waited for her to lock up.

“Well, of course, but I’d built a life there. We did a lot of entertaining.”

Scout bounded out through the open window of the pickup.

Emily gaped. “That was impressive.”

Nate whistled, and Scout came to heel.

“He’s very well trained,” she said.

“He has to be. He’s a cattle dog, with a lot of responsibility. He’s good at getting animals to do what he wants.”

“And humans, too?” she asked, smiling. “He has you wrapped around his paw, going everywhere with you.” She looked at the people they passed on the street. “But then again, lots of people have dogs around here. Hal didn’t even mind Scout inside the hardware store.”

“And he’s coming into Halftime with us, too.”

“Oh.” She gave the dog a surprised look.

The Halftime Sports Bar was just a block down Main Street, and unimpressive from the outside, with neon signs the only decoration in the two windows that flanked the glass door. But inside, there were comfortable chairs and tables, flat screen TVs with perfect views from anyplace you sat, a huge old wooden bar that had to be there from the nineteenth century, and sports memorabilia hanging all over the darkly paneled walls. There was always something to look at.

Julie, the daytime hostess, was a redheaded college student who always had a teasing wink for him and a pat on the head for Scout. She was too young for him but took the rejection good-naturedly. As she led them to a table, Nate nodded one by one to the people he knew and didn’t respond to Julie’s curious gesture toward Emily. Sometimes he could see why Emily’s mom had wanted to leave.

As she sat down, Emily smiled at Julie, who handed her a menu.

“You won’t be needing that,” Nate said.

“So I’m supposed to order the BLT,” she said dryly.

Julie walked away, saying over her shoulder, “It’s delicious.”

“I think I’ll look through the menu anyway,” Emily said to him pointedly.

He raised both hands. “I’ve eaten here a lot, but you don’t have to take my recommendation.” He let her scan the menu in silence, and when she at last put it down, he said, “So about the entertaining you used to do. You just liked throwing parties for no reason?”

“I love to throw parties, but there was often a reason. We entertained my husband’s partners.”

The mysterious husband. Nate felt uncomfortable about his own curiosity. “What kind of partners?”

“Greg’s a corporate lawyer at an important firm. He liked to make a good impression, and I liked entertaining.” She gave him a wry smile. “By all outward appearances, we complemented each other well.”

Their waitress, Linda, approached, setting down a glass of ice water for Emily and a Dale’s for Nate.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he said, taking a swig.

Linda, a working mom of school-age kids, gave a laugh. “We all know what you like to drink, Nate. Have you been out on the bike much yet?”

“Up at Mushroom Rock. It’s not too wet up there.”

Emily looked between them, amused and wide-eyed.

“You must be Emily,” Linda said, looking her over with open friendliness. “I’m Linda.”

“Nice to meet you,” Emily said.

“What can I get you?”

Emily sighed and smiled. “A BLT and a small salad, please. Ranch dressing on the side. And a Diet Coke.”

Nate grinned. “I’ll take the same, Linda, but hold the Diet Coke and the salad and give me fries instead.”

When Linda had gone, Emily said wryly, “Must be nice to have a job that burns lots of calories.”

“You bet.” He took another sip of beer. “You’ve spent so much time alone here that it kind of surprises me you like being with a bunch of

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