Then again, she wasn’t entirely certain it had to do withherand Franco Francone.
Only one way to find out.
“Look, Eli,” she said, “we don’t have any available tables, so...” She shrugged. Which she hoped he’d interpret as “scram.”
Verybad waitressing, admonished a little voice in her head that sounded a bit like Mrs.Adler but was surely her conscience. Her bad waitressing got even worse when she turned her back on them without waiting for an answer, pivoted toward Franco, froze... and then smoothly, slowly pivoted back toward Eli and Bethany with a fresh and evil inspiration.
“Mr.Francone, would you mind terribly sharing your table? It’s just... this is Deputy Sheriff Barlow. He’s the top lawman in town. And I know your last show was all about law enforcement, and since Bethany works on the show you’re filming now, well... you’ll all have a lot to talk about, I imagine. You’d really be helping us out.” Us being the Misty Cat. She illustrated this with a general wave of her arms.
She gave him her best smile, all vixeny sparkle.
She’d just put all of them in an interesting—for her—and probably untenable position.
Francone would look like a jerk if he said no, given that he had a nice comfortable four-person table to himself. And he seemed rather invested in impressing her.
She knew full well how Eli felt aboutBlood Brothers.
And Bethany was an underling on that show. It was both a chance to schmooze and to be seen withtheFranco Francone.
“Mr.Francone and I have met,” Eli said.
Boy. That sentence was forged on an anvil and coated in icicles.
Fascinating. When would this have happened?
Franco frowned faintly, studying Eli. And as recognition dawned, he came slowly to his feet. An observer might have interpreted that gesture as gentlemanly.
But Glory knew it was really just one guy demonstrating to another guy just how tall he was.
Eli had him by an inch, maybe a little less.
But Francone was well aware that every eye in the place had watched him rise, because he had a sense of drama. He was so handsome it was nearly otherworldly. As if someone had strolled in wearing a Franco Francone costume.
And Eli, by contrast, was veryofthis world. Like Hellcat Canyon itself. Theactualcanyon. Big and glowering, rugged and a little bit dangerous.
Franco Francone extended his hand. Eli took it.
Glory suspected a little macho hand-crushing was going on.
“A pleasure to meet you, Bethany,” Francone added graciously, when he took his hand back. “I imagine I’ll see you on set for a few days. And what should I call you, Deputy, when you’re off duty?”
“Deputy works.”
Glory happened to know that nearly everyone in town called him Eli when he was off duty. Often when he was on duty, too.
“The deputy here gave me a ticket for speeding,” Franco told Glory. “That’s how we met.”
“Eli issucha stickler,” Glory said sympathetically. “He loves enforcing laws more than anything in the whole wide world.”
Eli shot her a look that made her feel nine years old again. “Mr.Francone was doing warp speed down Main Street.”
“Oh,canyou do warp speed in a Porsche?” She turned sparkling fascination toward Franco.
“You can do a lot of things in a Porsche, Glory.”
She smiled at him. Franco smiled back at her, then looked away reluctantly. “Please, do join me, top lawman in town and makeup artist onThe Rush.”
Bethany shot a look at Eli that looked like part apology, part plea. Glory could practically see the thought bubble over Bethany’s head:But it’s Franco Francone!
