Читать книгу Flirting with Fireworks - Teresa Carpenter - Страница 12

One month later

Jason Strong followed a Harley Sportster into City Hall’s parking lot. He spared a thought for the biker’s business and hoped he was only passing through town.

With the fair coming to town early next week, the last thing Jason needed was to worry about a biker invasion as well. Of course, there could be an upside. If the Committee for Moral Behavior caught sight of the slim figure in black leather, the biker might distract committee members from their objections to the carnival troupe arriving soon.

Jason grabbed his briefcase and climbed from his car. The biker set the bike stands, then swung a long, leather-clad leg over the seat to stand next to the Harley. Struck by the way the biker moved, by the lithe grace and slight stature, Jason wasn’t really surprised when the helmet came off to reveal a head of dark brown, corkscrew curls and a delicate profile.

Taking in the willowy figure, the in-your-face leather, the hint of red in the wild curls, he had the sinking feeling his peaceful existence teetered on a fault line. A fear that was confirmed when the exotic stranger turned and nailed him with eyes black as the leather covering her every curve. The impact of her perusal ran like a hand over his body until she broke contact to speak to a woman entering the building.

He let out a hissing breath. No doubt about it. Trouble had come to town on a Harley.

Hopefully she wouldn’t be staying long.

Life had fallen into a predictable pattern for Jason. Just how he wanted it. His daughter, his family, his town were all happy and healthy.

For the most part.

Okay, so his daughter was growing up without her mother, his mother was running away from her responsibilities and the town was still recuperating from economical shock. The point was, they were all doing fine. And, with time, would do better.

With that comforting thought, he turned his back on the tempting vision in black and headed for the familiar ground of his office.

Ten minutes later, his secretary buzzed him, “Jason, do you have a few minutes for Lady Pandora?”

Lady Pandora? He nearly groaned aloud. This was worse than he thought. What were the chances of two exotic strangers visiting City Hall today?

“Send her in.”

He rose from behind his mahogany desk as his secretary escorted the leather-clad Lady Pandora into his office.

She was more beautiful than he’d at first thought. Dark curls framed delicate features highlighted by high cheekbones, barely arched brows and shiny pink, lushly full lips. Up close, he corrected his previous assumption. Her eyes weren’t black; they were a decadent dark chocolate. And they snapped with challenge.

“Ms. Pandora.” He held out his hand and received her gloved one in response.

She returned his firm grip briefly before taking a step back and gracefully sinking into one of the chairs fronting his desk. She peeled off her gloves and pulled the zipper down on her jacket revealing black lace underneath.

He resumed his seat, surreptitiously wiping the sweat from his palms. “What can I do for you?”

“You can allow me my rightful place in the fair,” she stated in clear terms, her voice soft yet assertive.

“What place might that be?”As if he couldn’t guess. Lady Pandora, right. More like Lady Charlatan. Jason scowled, disappointed that this lovely, exotic creature was most likely a parasite of the worst kind. She had to be the fortune-teller he’d banned from this year’s fair.

In his experience, fortune-tellers were frauds who preyed on the innocent and unsuspecting, dealing out false hope and bad advice. And that’s when they weren’t outright cheating the gullible public out of hard-earned savings.

“I’m sure you’re aware the city has chosen not to have a fortune-teller at the fair this year, Ms. Pandora.”

“Call me Ms. Cooper. Lady Pandora is my professional name. As you’ve guessed, I’m a teller of fortunes. You disapprove, though I believe you judge us too harshly. There are the unscrupulous in every vocation, that doesn’t mean all are frauds and parasites.” Her brown eyes met his; hers were rounded in exaggerated innocence. “It may surprise you to learn, Mr. Mayor, that politicians are often thought to lack integrity and to have only their own interests at heart, taking advantage of the masses while lining their own pockets.”

Jason frowned, taking the hit directly to the gut. She’d pushed one of his hot buttons square on the head. Neither did he miss the fact that her choice of words so closely echoed his thoughts. He shook off the unease the coincidence generated. He didn’t believe in mind readers, in being able to see into the future. If she expected him to change his mind, either about his beliefs or about letting her into the fair, then she obviously wasn’t very good at her job.

“Ms. Cooper, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. Blossom has a bad history with fortune-tellers, which is why the ban stands.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, because I’m ready, willing and able to perform at this fair. I’m contracted with this carnival troupe, which means I can’t go to another fair and even if I could, it’s too late at this delayed date.”

She spoke softly, slowly, the cadence so serene that the words lulled and suggested on an elemental level. Jason caught himself leaning forward to catch every word. Disgusted, he shook off her seductive spell.

“I sympathize, but that’s hardly my problem.”

“It is, actually. I’d happily trot along my merry way, but I need the income from this fair. Not just for myself, but for my family. And your ban is not only insulting, you’re frustrating my purpose.”

He frowned at her use of the legal terms: ready, willing and able, frustrated purpose. Her message came through loud and clear. Ms. Cooper had obviously been talking to a lawyer.

He might be worried except he’d drawn up the contract and knew it was airtight. Which didn’t mean she couldn’t contest it if she had the time, money and inclination. Given her transient lifestyle, he doubted she’d go to the effort. Admiring the cling of leather to soft curves, he almost regretted the necessity of sending her away. But the last thing Blossom—or he—needed was the trouble she represented.

“Still not my problem, Ms. Cooper. We contracted with the carnival months ago. I made it clear at the time no fortune-teller would be allowed in the fair. You need to take your grievance up with the carnival troupe.”

“Oh,” she waved a slim-fingered hand, uncrossed impossibly long legs and flowed lithely to her feet. “I have a better idea.”

She inclined her head as if she’d heard something interesting, then focused those brown, brown eyes on him. “So you’re an attorney as well as the mayor. How fortunate the townspeople of Blossom have you to safeguard their interests. But you needn’t worry, they have nothing to fear from me.”

She smiled a serene smile that did nothing to calm him and everything to arouse his suspicions, distracting him so he almost missed her next statement. “I believe we’ll let them decide whether I should be allowed in the fair.”

He shot to his feet and met her at the door. The scents of leather and honeysuckle made an intoxicating mix, making him light-headed until he pulled himself together.

Just when had he developed such a biker babe fixation? The sooner this hot mix of trouble vacated his town, the better.

“There’s nothing to decide, Lady Pandora. I regret there’s no place for you in Blossom.”

She sauntered through the doorway, hips swaying provocatively before turning to deliver the last word. “Oh, no need for regret.” This time her smile was pure challenge. “An apology at the end of the fair will do. You don’t have a problem admitting when you’re wrong do you, Your Honor?” She snapped to attention and offered a mock salute. “Or should I say, General, sir?”

“What?” Shock rocked him back on his heels. How could she possibly know his childhood nickname? His grandfather had called Jason Little General when he was a tiny kid.

“The contract may not be as airtight as you think.” She taunted him. “You were distracted remember? Someone didn’t feel well.”

Rikki. His daughter had had the flu. How could Lady Pandora know that? Before he pulled himself together enough to ask, she escaped out the door.

He stabbed his secretary’s call button.

“Yes, sir?”

“Get me Sheriff McCabe on the line. I want to know everything there is to know about Lady Pandora.”

“Oh, wasn’t she just wonderful, Jason?” his secretary practically gushed. “So helpful. She told me where to find the diagram for the new addition to the library. You know, the one I’ve been looking for for two days. She told me it had slipped behind the copier and, sure enough, that’s right where it was. Isn’t that amazing?”

Jason gritted his teeth. “Just get me the sheriff, please.”

Cherry Cooper, Lady Pandora to His Honor Mayor Jason Strong, grinned as she rode down in the elevator. Oh, the look on his face when she called him General. As the MasterCard commercial said: Priceless.

She bet not many people saw shock reflected in those intelligent blue eyes, on those chiseled features. With his bold cheekbones she suspected he had warrior blood in his history. Indian, Celt, Viking, she couldn’t narrow it down, but she sensed he came from a long line of fighters.

He didn’t shake easily; she’d give him his due there. Still, she’d rattled him a tad. More bluff than anything else. Body language and ego gave away a lot. Years of experience had taught her how to read a person almost as well as her psychic talent.

She already knew the good mayor was going to be a problem.

Not only because he refused to change his mind and let her into the fair, but because he made her palms itch.

Definitely not a good sign.

She’d known a month ago when she first visited Blossom that trouble would touch her here. Still, she hadn’t counted on the distraction of a maverick in a suit.

How she wished she could hop on her bike and roll on down the road.

But her grandmother’s health came first. The latest surgery had been successful, but her traveling days were over.

Wry humor tugged at Cherry’s funny bone. It didn’t take psychic powers to know the hunky mayor would not be happy to learn two fortune-tellers would soon be moving to his town.

Strolling out of City Hall into the Texas sunlight, Cherry slipped on her sunglasses and surveyed the picket-fence charm of Blossom’s town square. She felt right at home with her black leather gear and bad girl Harley.

Yeah, right, as at home as a frog in a French chef’s kitchen.

Who was she kidding? The good mayor was right; no matter how much she longed for a home, this wasn’t the place for her.

No, her place was on the road, moving from town to town, fair to fair, bringing in the income.

But first she needed to secure her place in the Blossom County Fair. She and Nona had been pre-approved for a home loan, but one of the conditions was proof of six months of payment reserves in the bank at the time of closing. They’d saved over the years so they had enough for the down payment, but Nona’s medical expenses had taken a chunk of their savings. In order to meet the loan condition, Cherry needed to get into the fair.

To do that, she needed the good people of Blossom on her side.

A woman jostled Cherry as she rushed down the City Hall steps. Cherry stared after the thin brunette, disturbed by the ominous shiver that followed in her wake.

Cherry’s ability to see the future came mostly through touch. When she performed, she used tarot cards. Occasionally, if she felt the need to do a deeper reading, she’d use the guise of reading the client’s palm, and then she buffered the contact with a scarf.

The contact with the rude woman reminded Cherry of the gray pall she’d felt when she first came to town. Shaking off the feeling of oppression, she cleansed her mind. Deciding to dive in at the deep end, she headed for The BeeHive Diner by way of the park.

She had an agenda to keep and it didn’t include solving the town’s dark problems. That was something for the good mayor to do.

The yellow-and-brown color scheme and honeybee mural were charmingly cheerful. After placing her order, Cherry pulled out her cell phone and dialed her grandmother.

“Hey, Nona. You sound breathless, you’re not doing anything you shouldn’t are you?”

“What, and break a sweat? Where’s the fun in that?” Nona responded.

A low male rumble sounded in the background.

“Oh, hush. I’m talking to my granddaughter,” Nona’s muffled voice admonished, then she spoke back into the phone. “I do everything my physical therapist tells me to do.”

Again the rumble, which Nona ignored except for a giggle. A giggle!

“Enough about me. Did you reach Blossom? What did the mayor say?”

The mayor—dark hair, gray-blue eyes, wide shoulders, hard attitude.

“Not a sympathetic man, the mayor. Mostly he said he wouldn’t change his mind, that the ban existed because the townspeople had been hurt by a fortune-teller in the past.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“I did some research. Two years ago, a fortune-teller was on the take with a con man running a real estate scam. The fortune-teller planted the seed by telling people they would soon see a good investment, then a couple of weeks after the fair, a man breezed into town, the supposed representative of a development company ready to build a resort in the area. People lined up to buy. Next thing they knew, the fortune-teller was long gone, the resort didn’t exist, and the man had disappeared along with half a million dollars of the good citizens’ money.”

“Charlatan.” The lash of fury in Nona’s voice traveled clearly down the line. She detested frauds. “And now we have to pay for her deceit.”

“Unfortunately. But we can’t really blame the people of Blossom for not wanting a repeat performance. Last year, they didn’t have a fair at all.”

“Well, now. That’s just a shame. Those charlatans stole more than the town’s money, they stole their spirit.”

Nona truly believed in the positive energy to be had at the fair. Family values and young love, goodness and joy, all wrapped up in popcorn, cotton candy and hot summer nights were what made up the fair.

Cherry believed, too, but she also knew frauds existed, people spent what they couldn’t afford and life wasn’t always fair. Even at the fair.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured her grandmother. “I’m not giving up.”

“What do you have planned?”

“A few innocent parlor tricks, is all. The people of Blossom may have been burnt, but curiosity will bring them back every time.”

“There’s something more, isn’t there? Something in your voice—” Nona suddenly switched gears. “You’ve met someone haven’t you? A man.”

Cherry grimaced. She’d hoped to finish the conversation before it headed in this direction.

“Nona, didn’t we have this talk when I was eighteen? I want to form my own opinion about the men I meet.”

“We didn’t have this talk. This isn’t about the big bad wolf. We’re talking Prince Charming here.”

Oh, please. Cherry barely kept from saying the words out loud. Jason Strong might look like a prince, but charming he was not.

“Believe me, we are not talking Prince Charming. Take care of yourself, Nona. I’ll call after I’ve been to the Realtor.”

Nona hung up the phone, her thoughts still with her granddaughter until a voice broke into her musings.

“You were talking about men, right? With your granddaughter?” Tom Baxter asked. An ex-cop with broad shoulders and lots of pewter-colored hair, he was here recuperating from a blown-out knee. “I understand the reference to the Big Bad Wolf, but what does Prince Charming mean in this day and age?”

The big Texan’s attention flustered Nona. Lord, she hadn’t felt so nervous around a man since her Grant first courted her a million years ago. Sweet Grant, he’d been her Prince Charming. She’d known the first time he touched her he was her soul mate. They’d had twenty wonderful years together before she lost him to a heart attack. Now she was seventy-one and could barely walk across the room. She certainly had nothing to offer this Big Bad Wolf.

Still, she answered his question about Prince Charming. “It means her one true love.”