Travis rolled his hands into fists. “That jerk was in our restaurant? He’s got a lot of nerve after what he did. I’ll kill him.”
Bethany raised her head. “I’m okay, Travis. Don’t fuss. Please.”
Travis looked like he yearned to charge from the restaurant and tackle Desmond in the street, but his sister’s pale face stopped him. He glanced at her, nodded, and hurried to fetch the water.
She looked at Hank, her gaze wide and concerned and frightened. “He said he met Elizabeth in town and followed her here. She told him about my contest entry, and he offered to help me garner votes by featuring me on his show. But what did he mean about me plagiarizing my entry? Why would he say that?”
Hank rubbed her back. “He’s just making trouble. Don’t listen to him. I should have clocked him when I had the chance. And I’m not happy with Elizabeth for talking to him.”
A wry smile surfaced on Bethany’s face. “Much as I appreciate your willingness to fight for me, I’m glad you didn’t. You don’t need to be getting mixed up in this craziness. Can you imagine the headlines?”
He placed his hands over hers. “Iammixed up in this craziness. I would do much more than pound Desmond for you. Are you going to be all right?”
Her smile widened until he caught a glimpse of her teeth. “Yes, how can I not be? I have two knights in shining armor come to my rescue.” She took the glass of water from Travis, who had returned from his mad dash into the kitchen.
The door jangled, and they all looked up. A young mom pushing an infant in a stroller entered with two toddlers. The sight did more to restore Bethany’s equilibrium than Hank’s efforts had accomplished.
“My soup,” Bethany said, pushing herself to her feet. “I need to check on it. Travis, can you help Francesca? She has her hands full. I’ll be right back.” She scurried toward the kitchen before Hank could stop her.
He followed behind. Funny. He was always a step behind, trying to catch up. When he entered the kitchen,Bethany was at the stove, stirring a large silver pot. He sniffed the air. “Beef noodle soup?”
She looked at him as if she’d totally forgotten he was still in her café. “Minestrone for the lunch crowd.” She wiped her forehead with a paper towel. “Are you hungry? That’s the least I can do?—”
He pulled the ladle from her fingers and set it in the pot. Then he tugged her into his arms and held her close, looking into her wide, gray-green eyes. “Yes, I’m hungry. But not just for food. You need a break from this place. Will you come to LA with me?”
It wasthe shock of seeing Desmond again that turned her no into a yes. At least that’s what Bethany told herself later, after she and Travis closed the restaurant and returned home. She happened to agree with Hank—the surest way to recover from the turmoil of confronting Desmond was a change of scenery.
Bethany yanked the brown suitcase, which had been her father’s, from the storage area in the basement where it lay hidden under a mountain of clutter and dragged it up two flights of stairs into her bedroom. The metal handle was worn, and there was a dent in one side, but otherwise, the suitcase was in decent shape.
She sat on the bed and studied her hands and admitted what she preferred to deny. It was more than a change of scenery that had her saying yes to the weekend in Los Angeles. No, it had been Hank himself. He hadn’t given a scrap of attention to Desmond’s claim about her, although she’d been so mortified and furious about the whole scene that she’d scurried into the kitchen. No, he’d defended her honorand then worried about her, anxious to know if she would make the trip. How could she refuse?
She crossed to her dresser, plunged her hands into the top drawer, and pulled out two pairs of panties and bras in a decent enough shape for travel. Then she crouched to peer into the bottom drawers. Hank had told her not to fuss over what to bring, so she considered the stack of jeans and T-shirts, which made up her day-to-day wardrobe. They would have to do, but she would pack one nice outfit, in case they went somewhere special.
Her cell phone buzzed, and she stood and grabbed it from her dresser top. Her pulse quickened when she saw the identity of the caller. “Hello.” Did she sound as breathless as she felt?
“I love the sound of your voice.”
Hank’s familiar drawl had her heart fluttering, so she stepped backward and sank onto her bed. “Hi, Hank.”
“Listen, remember when I mentioned I’m up for an award?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, the award ceremony is a black-tie affair. I don’t want you worrying about an outfit. I’ll have my assistant pick you out something nice.”
Bethany tried not to let the trickle of excitement coursing through her veins sound in her voice. “Well, I can’t afford a fancy dress, so thank you, Hank.”
“I’ve made all the arrangements for our trip. We’ll fly in a private plane next weekend—you, me, Travis, and Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was coming, too? Elizabeth had been responsible for Desmond coming to her restaurant, and Hank knew it. Her stomach rolled like she’d swallowed a bucket of pebbles. “Okay.”
“Why do you sound like I made you eat something you detest? You’re not changing your mind about coming with me, are you?”
“No, I’m not. I told you I would. I think this trip will be good for Travis and me. It’s just—Elizabeth’s not my favorite person.”
Hank sighed, the weary sound traveling through the phone line and into her ear as if he were sitting next to her. “I know, and I’ll talk to Elizabeth about overstepping. But she’s been with me since the beginning. I’m her only client, and she’s extremely dedicated. In the early days, when we had nothing, I told her if she stuck by me and I made it big, I wouldn’t leave her behind. She’s sacrificed a lot to see me successful. She’s used to flying with me when we travel to the same location, so it would seem unusual to fly separately.”
Bethany sank onto the mattress and gripped the soft blanket she kept at the end of her bed. “I don’t mean to make a fuss.”
