Chapter6
“What do you mean, a special license?”A pang of despair touched Lola’s voice. “I’ve brought signature from both co-owners.” She opened the manila folder and carefully removed the pages she’d asked Jack to sign earlier that morning.
The city employee, a man in his sixties, glanced at the pages, fixing his square, oversized reading glasses. “You need the mayor’s approval to place the signs leading to your motel.”
“Bed and Breakfast,” Lola rushed to say right after the man gave her a sheet of documents she needed. Documents she thought she alreadyhad.
“Yes ma’am.” He shrugged, unmoved. “Because you’re new in town and don’t have the best credit history, you’ll need to talk to the mayor’s office and schedule an appointment.”
“When can I dothat?”
The man, with a tag that read Gary, turned his head to a computer monitor for a couple of seconds, and typed in a few things. “Next month.”
“Next month? But I need this now. I have a friend in L.A. who’s doing the logo and we need to know how many different sizes and formats we’ll need,” she said, omitting the part London would be doing it for free. Thankfully he was the best graphic designer she knew, even though he’d send the files and she would still need to print the signs. Ordering the wrong ones was out of the question. She didn’t need any unnecessary spending.
With a dismissive shrug, the man simply sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said with a voice that wasn’t sorry atall.
“I bet.” She matched his cynical smile with one of her own, grabbed her bag from the empty chair next to her and sauntered out of the cityhall.
She tried to absorb the tranquil atmosphere in the streets, with people sitting on the wrought iron benches on every other corner, as they entered and exited the brick buildings surrounding the plaza. Tried, but failed.
Since the previous night, she’d dealt with frustration, questioning, and now, pure anger at herself, because she knew how it’d go down if Daddy was alive. She’d make a little scene and he’d call people, persuasive as only he could be, and find a way to get her to see the mayor. Good Gucci, I’m pathetic. Best not to think about Daddy, especially after her intuition nagged at her that something about her adoption process had beenoff.
Do I really want to find out? The growing concerns blinded her from the hydrant in her way as she was about to cross the street. She hit her sky-high shoe on the hard metal. “Crap.” A sharp pain shot into her toes, more due to their cramped state inside the shoes than the hitting itself.
“Are you okay?” A woman walking in the opposite direction asked.
Lola assessed her. Brown skin and black eyes. She couldn’t be the woman from the picture, could she? Damn it. Was she going to stare at every Mexican lady she met in the streets?
A wrinkle formed on the woman’s forehead. “Is everything all right?” she asked, pronouncing the words evenly.
“Yes.” Lola shook her head and moved her toes in her shoes. “Everything’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention.”
The woman’s lips shifted into a relaxed smile. “Be careful next time. Have a niceday.”
Lola crossed the street, and strode in the direction of her parked Ford. Nice day, noway.
“Lola. Hey,” a male voice called her, and she swung on her heels.
Hoyt, the guy from the bar, the cocky brawler, tipped off his Stetson. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk with a half-smile on his handsome face, his height competing with the height of the leaves on a Maple tree. He didn’t look as threatening as when he had wanted to beat the crap out of her husband.
“Yeah?” She threw her shoulders back, then placed both hands on her waist. If he and Jack hated each other and he thought he could intimidate her, he had another one coming.
He threw his hands in the air and offered her an apologetic look, and shrugged. “I’m sorry about how things went down the otherday.”
“You mean when you hit my . . .” she cleared her throat, “Jack, even though he didn’t hit youback?”
His gaze strayed from hers, then returned. “Whenever my sisters are involved, I can be very protective.”
“Sisters?” She let her car key slide into her opened bag and moved one step closer tohim.
“I have four ofthem.”
She brought her hand up to stifle her giggles. Four sisters. No wonder he was stressed out. “You’re forgiven. The universe has already taken care ofyou.”
A smile touched his lips. “It has. I just didn’t want you to think I’m this country bumpkinjerk.”
She waved him off. “Trust me, jerks are my specialty.”
