The Bravos: Family Ties. Christine Rimmer
so he sent you jewelry?”
She paused in midslice, glancing his way, shaking her head. “Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it? To tell you the truth, I still don’t think he believes that when I said no, I meant it.”
“Cleo?”
“What?” She looked toward him again.
He was picking at the label on his bottle of beer. “I gotta say. If one of the Bravos came to me with an offer to expand, I’d jump at it. The Bravos are big-time. The real deal. Maybe you ought to think twice. This could be a good move for you.”
“But I told you. I don’t want to do it. I don’t like the idea of putting a KinderWay in a casino.”
“He wants it in the casino? Wouldn’t that be illegal or something?”
“All right,” she amended, “it would be off the hotel, but still, it’s not the kind of location I had in mind.” His expression said he wasn’t buying. She set down her paring knife. “Okay. Say it.”
“Well, it’s only … this is Vegas, you know? Most of the people who live here work for the resorts and casinos. Those folks have kids, too. And their kids need preschools. And I think, because of how you grew up, you sometimes want to pretend that this is a different town than it really is.”
What could she say? He was absolutely right. “Okay. You’ve got a point….”
He said it again. “This town is what it is.”
She kidded him, “Go ahead. Make me face reality.”
His sweet smile lit up his face again. “You’re welcome.”
She flicked on the faucet long enough to rinse her hands, then grabbed a towel and turned to lean against the counter. “This whole thing does get to me. I mean, just because a guy is some big shot around town doesn’t mean he’s always going to have things his way. If I’m not ready to expand, I’m not ready. Period.”
“But this would be on the Bravo Group’s nickel, right? You’d get a new facility and they would pay for it?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, that sounds like a hell of deal to me.”
“How many ways can I say I’m not ready yet?”
Danny took another pull off his beer and set it down with care. “Okay. What’s going on?”
She put a lot of attention into thoroughly drying her hands. “What do you mean?”
“You seem really … jazzed about this. Really nerved up. And angry, too.”
“Well, I am angry. I’ve told that man no four times now, including today. And what does he do? He sends me jewelry.”
Danny’s honest brown eyes held hers. “He’s after you.”
“Didn’t we already establish that?”
“I’m not talking about KinderWay right now,” Danny said. “I mean you.” Cleo had no idea what to say then, so she kept her mouth shut. Danny added, “Come on. What guy in his right mind wouldn’t be after you?”
She let out a hard breath. “Oh, Danny …”
“And why else would he be sending you jewelry?”
She couldn’t hold his gaze and found herself looking down, studying the rounded toes of her ballet flats. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just send it back.”
“You want me to talk to this guy?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
She lifted her head and straightened her shoulders. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“You want to … go out with him?”
“Of course not.”
Danny smiled. Slowly. “Well, then. We got no problem here, do we?”
She could never resist that smile of Danny’s. She felt the corners of her own mouth lifting in response. “You know what? You’re right. We’ve got no problem at all.” She turned, hung the towel on the rack and went back to cutting up the salad.
Danny finished his beer and helped himself to a second one. A few minutes later they sat down to eat.
After the meal, they cleaned up the kitchen, working smoothly together, two parts of a well-oiled machine. Then Cleo made popcorn and they adjourned to the living room to catch a movie on pay-per-view.
Cleo shucked off her flats and cuddled up close to Danny, enjoying the strength in his muscular arm when he draped it across her shoulders, thinking that this was a great guy and she’d been lucky—so lucky—to find someone like him.
Someone so sweet and kind, someone who understood her and was always gentle with her and who never, ever tried to boss her around. Someone true and steady and down-to-earth.
Someone totally unlike some people she could mention …
When the movie ended, as the credits were rolling, Danny pulled her closer, tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back warmly.
But it was after ten by then and she was tired from the long workday—and the added stress of having to face down Fletcher Bravo.
Danny sensed her mood instantly. He always did. “Tired, huh?”
“Yeah. I guess I am….”
She walked him to the door and they shared another kiss. He asked her out for Friday night.
She said, “I’d love to.”
“Pick you up at seven?”
“I’ll be ready.”
She stood in the open doorway, watching as he went down the front walk and got into his perfectly restored ‘57 Chevy. He waved as he drove off, and she shut the door, locking it, turning back to lean on it with a sigh—and spotting Fletcher’s gift again. She’d have to pack it up and call his office to find out where to send it.
But not tonight.
Tonight she was putting Fletcher Bravo, his unwelcome offer and his unwanted gift completely from her mind.
Ten minutes later she crawled into bed. She drifted quickly off to sleep.
Her dreams that night were thoroughly erotic ones. Danny wasn’t in them.
The next morning—Wednesday—she woke up furious. At Fletcher Bravo.
Before she headed for KinderWay, she pushed the little blue box deeper into the packing popcorn and sealed up the flaps with heavy tape. She got the address of Impresario out of the phone book and printed it neatly on the box. She made it in care of Fletcher’s secretary, whose name, she remembered, was Marla Pierce. On the way to work she took the box by the post office and mailed it. She felt a whole lot better once the damn thing was out of her hands.
At KinderWay, Kelly, her assistant, asked her how the meeting at Impresario had gone.
“The important thing,” she told Kelly, “is that it’s done. I told Fletcher Bravo in no uncertain terms that we’re not interested in his offer.”
Kelly laughed and pretended to fan herself. “That Fletcher Bravo. I’ve seen the pictures of him in the newspaper and NightLife magazine. Total hottie. Those sexy, scary gray eyes of his … Yum. He could make me an offer any day. You can bet I wouldn’t refuse.”
Cleo was still feeling good that his gift was out of her hands and things were finally settled with him. She joked, “I should have let you handle him.”
“Oh, yeah. You should have. I’d have handled him and then some.”
After that,