“We couldn’t impose on your date,” James said.
“Why not?” Julia’s tone left no doubt that she was annoyed with her husband. “If Clara doesn’t mind, it would be lovely to eat with y’all this evening.”
“Carla,” Jackson corrected her, and mouthed, “Sorry!” in my direction.
I thought it was a hoot that she had called me by my poker name. “I donotmind.” I patted the arm of the chair beside me. “You sit right here beside me, Mrs. Armstrong. That way, when these men start talking shop, we won’t have to raise our voices over them.”
“I should have listened closer when Jackson introduced us,” she said.
Jackson popped up from his chair and seated his mother, and then he held up a hand for the waitress. When she came over, he said, “Two more have joined us. Would you please hold our food until you bring theirs?”
“No problem. What can I get y’all to drink? Maybe some wine or sweet tea?” she asked James.
“We’d both like the same beer these kids are having,” James answered. “No need for a menu.”
“Since it opened, this has been our favorite place,” Julia said. “I always have the filet, and James gets the rib eye.”
“I’ve never been here before,” I said, “but Jackson tells me that this is his favorite steak house.”
“Did he tell you that he got engaged in the Hotel Paso del Norte lobby?” Julia asked.
“Mother!” Jackson barked.
“No, ma’am, he didn’t—but he’s not still engaged, is he?”
“If she’s dating you, then she has a right to know about Yvette,” Julia snapped. “She was a big part of your life until you went off to the army.”
“We were eighteen, and the engagement lasted all of six weeks,” Jackson explained.
“They were high school sweethearts and even were crowned king and queen of their high school prom. She’s recently divorced, and we had high hopes ...” Julia let the sentence hang.
“Let’s not talk about the past,” James said. “What do you do, Clara?”
“Thanks, sir, it’s Carla these days, and I own the Tumbleweed Bus Stop and Diner. Most of the time, I’m just a waitress. Rosie calls most of the shots, and she does a fine job of it,” I answered.
I would have loved to shuffle a deck of cards and play a few hands of poker with Julia. Her face showed every emotion and every thought that ran through her mind. I bet if I could get her to sit in on a game, I might even own that big sparkly rock on her finger, or maybe even half of one of the Armstrong companies, when the night ended.
“We love the Tumbleweed,” James said. “I’ve offered to pay Rosie triple what she makes at that little café if she would move to Dallas and be our cook. I even offered to give her the guesthouse and hire a staff to work for her. So I guess the Tumbleweed is not for sale anymore?”
“No, sir, it’s not,” I answered.
“Do you own other small cafés?” Julia asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“I thought maybe you bought them and flipped them once you had them financially stable, or something like that,” Julia said.
“No, again,” I answered. “I wouldn’t even have the Tumbleweed, but the previous owner lost it to me in a poker game. I am a professional gambler, and my professional alias is Clara Williams, so you weren’t totally wrong when you called me by that name. I’m going to give the business a few months to see if I’m ready to settle down or not.”
“I knew you looked familiar,” James said. “We were in the same game in Vegas five or six years ago. The buy-in was fifty grand, and I barely broke even.”
“That was a long time ago,” I said. “But I’m glad you didn’t lose all of your money.”
Julia looked like she could pass plumb out right there in the restaurant. Her eyes darted from me to Jackson and then to James. “And if you aren’t ready to settle down?”
“Then I will either sell the café or give it to Rosie. I promised that I would stay until July 4, and I plan to keep my word.”
“I’d love to play another game with you some time,” James said.
