Free Suede to Rest by Diane Vallere Page A

edge. Whatever you do, don’t cancel.”
    â€œI don’t think it’s like that.” I thought back over how I’d felt when Vaughn was at the store earlier, when I’d found him in my Dumpster with the kittens. I blushed recalling how I’d reacted when I’d thought he was staring at my chest.
    â€œWhy else would he want to take you to dinner?” Carson said.
    I bristled. “Don’t worry, I won’t agree to anything that will jeopardize our future.”
    â€œRemember that. But this could be good for us. Act like you like him. That’ll keep him from figuring out what we’re planning.”
    â€œAren’t you the least bit jealous that I’m going to dinner with another man?”
    â€œIt’s pretty obvious he’s interested in your property, not mine.” He chuckled.
    â€œI have to go.”
    I hung up and handed the phone back to Ken. He wiped it against the side of his pants like he needed to rid it of my cooties, then he pushed it into the back pocket of his pants.
    â€œWhat was that about?” he asked.
    â€œMy boyfriend has taken an interest in the store.”
    â€œIs he in the fabric business?”
    â€œNo. He’s in the business business. He’s your new offer.”
    â€œYour boyfriend has the kind of capital to match Mr. McMichael’s offer?” I looked closely at Ken and could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. “You think he’d want to buy property in San Ladrón?”
    â€œHe knows people.” I shook my head to myself. How could Carson be so quick to tap his contacts when he thought there was a good deal on the table, but so slow when it came to understanding how I felt about it?
    â€œRelationships are tough, Poly. It’ll work itself out,” Ken said. “I see your car’s still up on the rack. Do you need a ride anywhere?”
    I looked inside Charlie’s shop. My yellow Bug was four feet in the air. Before I had a chance to ask Ken to drive me to the drugstore, Charlie appeared behind me.
    â€œYo—Polyester. Think fast.” She tossed a set of keys to me. I accidentally knocked them farther out of reach, and Ken snagged them from the air. He looked at them briefly then dropped them into my open palm.
    â€œWhite Camaro. Out back. You can drive stick, right?”
    â€œSure,” I answered. I’d learned to drive on a stick shift, but it had been a long time. I hoped it was like riding a bike.
    â€œIt might look like a throwback to the greatest decade ever, but it’s wired with an alarm. Customized. LoJack, too, and Lockdown. The gas gauge is broken, and I can’t really say if that’s going to matter to you or not. You might want to fill her up at the Circle K on the corner before you go too far.”
    It took four stalls and restarts for me to get the feel for the muscle car’s clutch. I drove to the gas station down the block and spent the better part of a hundred dollar bill to fill the tank. Genevieve’s tea shop was down the next block. I parked the car in front of the store and went inside.
    This time the store smelled like butterscotch. The line by the register was two people deep and I made it a third. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent. By the time it was my turn I was willing to spend whatever it cost to get a piece of the mystery baked goods to go.
    â€œI wasn’t sure if I’d see you again,” said Genevieve. She counted out a stack of one-dollar bills and tucked them into the pocket of her faded apron.
    â€œDid I tell you I was leaving?” I asked. “I don’t remember saying that.”
    â€œYou’re the fabric woman everybody’s been talking about, right? Gabardine?” She cocked her head to the side.
    â€œPolyester. Poly. Poly Monroe,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder to see if I was holding up the line, but no one had entered the shop after me. “Do I want to