A Cowboy At Heart. Angel Smits
he said to Trey.
Hap grumbled but grabbed hold of his walker anyway. The papers were still on the bar. Trey picked up the glasses and pushed the papers closer to the edge so Hap could reach them.
“Just toss those in the trash,” Sam told him. “No one’s looking for any stupid treasure.” He gave Hap a meaningful glare.
“You always were a stick in the mud, Sam.” But Hap didn’t grab the papers. He turned the walker toward the door and headed home.
Trey stared at the old pages. No way was this the end of it. After putting the glasses in the sink and wiping down the polished wood surface, he carefully folded the old pages and put them back into the envelope. He wasn’t buying the idea that there was any treasure, but there was no way he’d be the one to toss Hap’s dreams into the trash.
No way. He hit No Sale on the cash register and shoved the envelope in where the checks normally went. There was plenty of room as no one used checks these days. Tomorrow, he’d give it back to the three men.
* * *
LISA DUPREY HURRIED across the parking lot, praying the wind wouldn’t catch her skirt. As it was, she was freezing. The calendar might say spring was coming, but the breeze blowing off the Rockies was still full of winter snow.
Finally, she reached the big glass door emblazoned with the frosted image of a steaming pot of soup and a ladle. She loved the company’s logo. Simple, yet it looked warm and inviting. A Taste of Home—Catering and Heartfelt Events.
Who was she kidding? It wasn’t just the logo; she loved everything about her job and her life right now.
Stepping into the lobby, Lisa hurried in, but halfway to the kitchens, froze. Where was Trudy? The receptionist always sat at her desk. When Lisa came in every day, every time she went out to an event, every night when she went home, Trudy was there. She often teased the older woman that she had a bed stuffed under the desk and didn’t really go home at night.
But Trudy wasn’t there now.
Silence surrounded Lisa, and she stood still for a moment, listening, waiting. And then she heard voices. Distant voices. One male, deep, commanding. Marco. The other soft, feminine. That had to be Trudy. They were in the kitchen.
Hurrying down the short hall, Lisa pulled open another glass door and stepped into the gleaming white kitchen area—Marco’s pride and joy. Sunshine poured in the south-facing wall of windows, glowing off the polished floor and counters.
“But you can’t mean it, Marco. That’s so...so wrong.”
“It’s the truth, Trudy. I’m sorry.” His voice was no longer commanding. It sounded—he sounded—defeated.
“But what am I going to do?”
“Pack up and start looking for another job,” he said softly. Was that a hitch in his voice?
“Marco? Trudy?” Lisa called their names to get their attention. Both of them spun around, staring at her, as if surprised she was there.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Lisa said, pulling off her coat and draping it over the tall chair at the raised counter. “What’s going on?”
“M...Marco says we’re closing.” Trudy’s voice shook as she clasped and unclasped her hands together.
“What?” Lisa froze, her breath stuck in her chest. “What do you mean, closing? Like, for the day?” Was there some holiday she’d forgotten?
“No. Forever.” Marco’s voice faded on the last word.
“But...what about all the new clients? The events we’re scheduled to handle?” They’d all been so thrilled when Robert had brought the contracts in. Marco had even taken them all to lunch to celebrate. She moved closer to stop beside Trudy and look at the papers spread out on the table. She hadn’t started working on most of these jobs yet, but she was supposed to meet with Robert in the next few days to get the details.
“All gone. All lies. A ruse to distract us while he stole everything.” Marco threw his hands in the air, and, turning away, he stalked across the big expanse of the prep area. “I’ve got some calls to make. To tell the few real clients we have that we can’t cater their events.” And with that, he disappeared into his office. The door slammed with a loud wham, and, in the quiet it left behind, she heard the lock click.
“Trudy? What happened? We were just voted Best of Denver.” Lisa looked around, as if the appliances or counters held some answers. “Where’s Robert?” Marco’s partner was usually here well before any of them got in.
“That’s the problem.” Trudy threw her hands up in the air, similar to Marco’s dramatic move, only more defeated. “We don’t know.” She reached behind her, to the stack of papers that sat on the counter. She tossed them dramatically into the air. “These are fake. Lies. All lies.” As the papers fell around them, Trudy’s eyes filled with tears. “He took everything. The money Marco gave him to buy the supplies, he just took it. Cleaned out every penny from the accounts. No money. No supplies. No customers.” Trudy stumbled to the door, toward her abandoned desk. “No job.” Her sob broke the silence.
Lisa swallowed. No job? No. It wasn’t possible. She loved this job. She needed this job. Silence was Lisa’s only answer. What was she supposed to do now?
An hour later, the meager contents of her desk packed into a couple of vegetable boxes, Lisa sat in her car staring at the beautiful brand-new building. Marco had poured everything he had into designing this place. He loved it. And when he’d hired her last fall to be the event coordinator, she’d been so happy, she’d cried in his office. His success had given her a place to build the career she’d only dreamed of before.
Now all of it was gone? A gust of cold wind shook her little car, and she shivered. Still, she didn’t start it and drive away. She smacked the steering wheel.
How could someone fake doing a job? What was wrong with actually doing your job? There were plenty of customers wanting Marco’s amazing food, her decorations and entertainment. They created magic together.
Magic that was apparently no more than dollars to Robert.
She’d been an idiot! She’d worked with him every day for months. How had she not seen that part of him? Thinking back now, she realized she didn’t really know anything about him.
He hadn’t told her anything about himself, hadn’t shared any personal information.
Lisa’s hands shook, from cold as much as from her anger, as she reached for her purse. She would have to—she froze, almost literally...do what?
Rummaging around in her purse, she pulled out her phone. She needed someone to talk to. Someone to spill her hurt all over, who’d listen and not chastise her for trusting so blindly.
Jack’s face came to mind. But her ex-none-too-supportive-idiot boyfriend had told her not to leave her other job. Thank goodness, he was her ex and she wouldn’t have to tell him anything.
A weird sense of déjà vu made her cringe. She’d thought she’d known Jack, too. But just like Robert, Jack had been a liar.
No, she couldn’t go back to that. Back to where Jack had left her. Back to... No!
As if on cue, her phone rang. Not Jack, thankfully. Her mother. Lisa gulped.
“Hello.” She might as well break it to her now and get it over with. She’d have to talk to her mother about this at some point anyway.
“Hello, dear.” Mom’s familiar voice was a welcome long-distance hug. “How are you? I haven’t heard from you for a while.”
“Oh, uh—” How did you tell your mother that the job you’d been raving about for months was no more? That it was all over.
“Oh, Mom!” Her carefully planned conversation turned into a whimper. “I lost