“Come on, guys, we need to meet the inspectors and Arn at the mine,” Omar said to the two animals sitting in his office. Rising from his chair, he headed toward the front of the inn.
As BAC and Bok Choy followed, he halted outside Cherie's door, tapped, then opened it. “Hey, sweetie, we're headed to the mine. It's the last inspection before I can test-run the train.”
Cherie looked up at him from some paperwork and frowned. “I don't care how many inspectors you bring in, I'm still not getting married in a mine, Omar. You try to pull some mess, and I'll divorce you before we're even married, I swear.”
“I wouldn't do that, not on your day. Before that bonehead D'Andre Thompson damaged the mine, I'd been thinking about redesigning the tour to accommodate people who have trouble walking.”
“I thought you just meant ramps and stuff,” she said.
“The walking paths will be better, but since the mine was out of commission for winter, I worked with a couple of structural engineers to redo a section and fit it with a three-cart train. Even had a disability expert sit in. It's going to be something else.”
Cherie smiled and shook her head. “You and that mine. Don't forget we’re seeing Dr. Sloane for the pre-marital tests this afternoon. Three p.m.”
He peered at her. “Did you talk to Dani about a prenup?”
She glared at him. “We are not having this conversation again, Omar. You don't need my little bit of money—”
“No, but I want you to have mine.”
“Then make a will,” she stated. She sucked in air and released it. “Is your daughter coming to the wedding?”
“I wrote her and sent an invitation.” He scrubbed his face. “I don't know, love. I was hoping since she's twenty-two, Samirah might want to connect with her father. All I can do is leave the door open.”
She got up and walked around the desk, wrapping her arms around his waist. Raising up on her toes, she kissed him. “Samirah will come around, O. You've never not tried to stay in contact with her. She'll come around.”
He kissed her back and moved from her arms. “From your mouth to God's ears, but I've a feeling her other parent is blocking the call. Anyway, the inspection shouldn't take long.”
Omar strolled out of the room, his shoulders slightly slumped. He'd heard the bitterness in his tone, something he tried hard not to let Cherie see. He and Samirah's mom Adriana hadn't married once he found out discretion wasn't part of her personality. The only good thing that came out of their relationship was Samirah, and even that went south when Adriana decided to marry someone with far more money and move to Europe. By the time Samirah had a say in visits, Laurent was her “dad.”
The last time he called his daughter, she was distant and didn't want to say more than hi. Adriana said Samirah didn’t want to do the back and forth anymore. From that point, Samirah refused to talk to him, and the only contact he’d had with her were pictures and birthday cards her mother sent.
Omar shook his head to clear his thoughts. Going down that road was painful and frustrating. He headed for the mine, BAC and Bok Choy walking alongside him. Glancing down, he smiled. These two were inseparable and something else, like an old married couple.
He arrived just as the inspectors pulled up to the parking lot. Arnold arrived a second or two later. Omar chuckled to himself. No way his best friend was going to miss out on the fun. As Arnold got out of the car, he greeted him. “Hey, Arn.”
“Hey, O.”
The inspectors got out of their car and began walking around the site, clipboards in hand. As they moved away from Omar and Arnold, Arnold asked, “Foresee any problems, O?”
“No, all the safety precautions were validated by the engineers. I've also installed special gates to keep folks out when the mine is closed. Expensive as hell, but the only way you'll get inside is to blast your way in, and you're going to need more than dynamite.”
Omar walked over to the entrance. “Evan Graywolf worked with the engineers to secure the mine.”
The inspectors returned, and one of them said, “Shall we take a ride, Mr. Valenzuela?”
“Yes,” Arnold said. His expression went sheepish as the inspectors looked askance at him. “Sorry.”
Omar led them to the entrance and placed his palm on a smooth indentation approximately two inches in the rock. The metal gate retracted. “The entrance is electronically keyed to my palm print. Without it, the gate won't open. Any attempts to force the gate sends an alarm to the Sheriff's office and to my phone.”
One of the inspectors smiled. “Who designed it?”
“EG Security,” Omar replied. “Here's their business card.”
They entered the mine, and unobtrusive lighting came on. About fifteen feet in front of them and to the right was a train track with a locomotive and three train cars sitting on it. Omar strolled over. “Each car has a maximum weight load of eight hundred pounds. The train runs on an electric pulley system and also has battery backup. Are you ready to ride?”
The inspectors and Arnold got into the first car behind the locomotive. Omar got into the locomotive. “I'm hiring two certified operators who will be full-time and present during all rides. I've also been certified to drive the train.”
He started the locomotive, and a whistle sounded. The train moved slowly and smoothly along the track as mining sounds echoed in the semi-darkness—recorded voices, the sounds of pickaxes on rock, and rocks being tossed into carts. Halfway into the mine, the train abruptly stalled.
“There's an object on the track. I've installed sensors so the train will automatically stop.” He got out and removed the pail he'd placed there the day before. Getting back into the locomotive, he started the engine, and they continued on their journey.
When they reached the exit, the train slowed to a gentle stop and automatically shut off. Everyone got out, and Omar closed the gate.
“Impressive, Mr. Valenzuela,” the lead inspector stated. “I'll file my report, and you should be getting your permit within two weeks. How do you plan to deal with the traffic?”
“Tours are scheduled. It takes the empty train about ten minutes to return to the entrance, and we've added another ten minutes before we load passengers. That gives the operators a chance to inspect the train after each trip.”
“Like I said, impressive. When's the best time to bring my kids?”
Everyone laughed. “Halloween, of course. We’re planning an especially scary tour this year. Shoot me an email, and I’ll schedule you.”
He escorted the inspectors and Arnold to the cart parked about ten feet away and drove them back to their cars. Once everyone drove away, Omar walked back to the inn.
“Hey, Cherie,” he yelled as he stepped into the foyer. “Want some lunch? I'm in the mood for a salad.”
She opened the door to her office and stuck her head out. “Are you making it?”
“Yup.”
“No beets?”
“None.”
She grinned at him. “Okay, I'd love a salad for lunch.”
He strolled over and planted a kiss on her lips, took a step away, and returned to claim another. His tongue licked her lips apart and sank into her mouth. She tasted of cardamom, spicy, delicate, and exotic all at the same time, and he loved this little habit of hers—one she'd picked up while in college. His kiss was leisurely, a mellow sweep of the wet flesh of her mouth. When he kissed her like this, his body reacted but not in lust.
What he felt was belonging; his heart and soul were at home. He sucked her tongue before he did one last thorough swipe and ended their kiss. “That'll hold me while I cook.”
She patted his arm. “Salad-making is not cooking, Omar.”
“It is for me. Besides, I can't compete with your mad skills, so I'm going to call what I do cooking. Live with it, woman.”
He swaggered down the hallway to the back of the inn and the kitchen, whistling a Maxwell tune as he walked.