Free Queenie's Cafe by SUE FINEMAN Page B

feel you had the experience necessary to make a go of it on your own.”
    Laura felt like someone had let the air out of her. She could apply in Vero Beach, but she had a feeling they’d say the same thing. Luke said he’d loan her the money. She didn’t want to owe him any more, but what other choice did she have? Maybe, if she worked it right, she could get by on what he’d already given her. It would be a stretch, but if the utility bills didn’t come right away...
    Who was she kidding? She needed Luke and his money. Reluctantly, she picked up the phone, but all she got was a recording. She couldn’t leave an apology on his answering machine.
    Remembering the tape, she pushed the play button again. She heard Elvis’s voice, then static, and then the sound of a phone ringing. A man’s voice answered. “King of the Road.” It sounded like her father.
    “Bruce, it’s me.”
    “I have nothing to say to you, Queenie.”
    “I want that baby.”
    He said, “It’s not yours.”
    “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
    “So what if it is? What do you care?”
    “We’ll pretend it’s mine,” said Queenie.
    “Like hell we will.”
    “I won’t give you a divorce so you can marry that slut.”
    “I’m leaving end of the week whether you like it or not. It’s over, Queenie. I won’t stay with you any longer.”
    The connection was broken as one receiver slammed down, then the other. Elvis came back on and she switched the tape off. Dad told her Queenie wanted kids and she wouldn’t give him a divorce, so Laura wasn’t surprised at the phone conversation, but why would Queenie keep the tape? She’d not only kept it, she’d hidden it.
    Laura tossed the sticky cassette case in the trash and slipped the tape in her pocket. Why didn’t her father leave at the end of the week like he said? What made him stay?
    And what made Florence give up her baby?
    The phone rang and Laura snatched it up, hoping one of the loan officers had changed their mind about giving her a loan to open Queenie’s. But it wasn’t a loan officer. It was Luke.
    “I tried to call you today, Luke.”
    “I didn’t get a message.”
    “I didn’t leave one.”
    “Why not?”
    She wiped off the counter while she talked. “I called to apologize. I didn’t want to say that to some machine.”
    “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I thought you were interested in a partnership, but I don’t want to force it on you. If you want to do it by yourself, that’s all right. You don’t have to do business with me or my corporation.”
    Laura swallowed her stubborn pride. “Yes, I do. The banks all turned me down.”
    “I’m not surprised. They have certain guidelines they have to follow.”
    “Are you still sending your contractor over to look at the motel?”
    “Do you still want him to come?”
    “Yes, I’d like to know—”
    “So would I. Do you need more money now?”
    “Not until the electric bill comes.”
    A burst of laughter came through the phone. “Sometimes I think you’ve got more pride than sense.”
    She threw the towel in the sink. “Do you always have to be right?”
    “Are you opening tomorrow?”
    “Yes, at six.”
    “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”
    The mailman brought a letter from Corbin.
    I tried to get your phone number from the Internet, but there was no listing for Whitfield in Kingston. I’m hoping this letter gets to you.
    Laura glanced at the address on the envelope.
    Laura Whitfield
    Kingston, Florida
    He’d given her his e-mail address, as if she had a way to send an e-mail to anyone, and asked her to call him collect.
    He still wanted to date her, but who had time to date? She had a business to run, and it was a good excuse to end their relationship, such as it was. Corbin was an okay friend, but he wasn’t the man for her.
    She called the number in his letter. Corbin wasn’t there, so she left a message. “Corbin, this is Laura. I inherited a café here in Kingston, and I’m not