CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

On Friday evening, Macey stood inspecting herself in the mirror that hung by her front door. It was part of the furnishings that had come with the apartment. She spun, and the flare skirt of her teal party frock danced about her stockinged legs. She'd searched high and low, until she found a pair of pantyhose the exact color of teal that matched the V-necked dress. Cal might remonstrate about the low-cut bodice and the bit of cleavage it showed, but the bodice of the dress she'd been tempted to buy originally, was cut with a much lower V. The modesty her parents ingrained in her since childhood, and the fact that Cal's temper would hit the roof, had decided her on the final purchase.

Not that he could really stop her from wearing whatever she chose, but her life here in New York was going well, and antagonizing Cal might change his mind about returning to Montana and the foreman's job at his parents' ranch. Tonight especially she wanted everything to go well.

She was right not to choose the dress with the lower V cut. It would not have elicited the admiration she read in Cal's eyes that evening when he presented himself at eight in his best outfit, that included a tan blazer, bolo tie, brand new ten-gallon hat, and new leather boots.

All through the cab drive to the restaurant, he didn't speak much. He seemed almost shy, like a schoolboy on his first date with a pretty schoolgirl. When he did speak, it was to say, "Macey, you look beautiful, and very grown-up."

He was the perfect gentleman, opening doors for her, escorting her into the restaurant, a truly elegant establishment, complete with a dance floor and a band. The restaurant was decorated with Central American art and rich dark gracefully carved woodwork, tables and captain chairs. The waitresses and waiters were uniformed in black and white.

She and Cal entered through glass paned double doors overlaid with wrought iron scrollwork patterned in fleur de lis. The hostess who greeted them was middle-aged with shoulder length hair the darkest brown Macey had ever seen, unashamedly streaked with silver and gray. Must be her natural color, Macey mused, unable to spot any hint of different colored hair roots. The hostess approached them, her gaze fixed on Cal. Macey gasped as she threw her arms around him.

"Cal, how long has it been? It's so good to see you."

Macey watched surprised as Cal returned the woman's embrace with a hearty hug. "Aunt Doreen, what are you doing here?"

"I came up with Eduardo to help him settle in as the new manager."

"So Uncle Esteban has finally let go of Ed's reins."

"In a manner of speaking," Doreen said. "But you know my husband. Old world, traditionalist. He fully expects Eduardo to take over the estate upon our retirement."

"Ed has never wanted that responsibility," Cal said. "Jacinta may yet get her wish to one day run the estate and the night club."

Doreen chuckled. "Yes, she's quite capable. Esteban always says she takes after me, when he first met me, both in stature and as independent. But he still sees her as his little girl, and not the well-educated, self-sufficient woman she's grown into. He will not let go easily of his menina bonita."

"His little girl is in her mid twenties. He will do as you ask, Aunt Doreen. You know in the end he always does."

"Most of the time," Doreen laughed. But don't tell him that," she warned, with a wink. "You know, Jacinta had a crush on you for years. But you were in love with someone else." Her gaze fell on Macey. "And still are, I see."

Cal quickly explained, "Macey is here as a good friend. She turned twenty-one today. I thought The Rose Slipper would be a nice place to celebrate her birthday. Even more-so, now that you and Ed are here."

Doreen extended her arms and offered Macey an equally warm embrace. Macey smiled a stiff greeting. The woman was a stranger to her, despite that Cal seemed to know her well. Doreen released her. "You feel strange, dear, I can tell. It's a pity my other set of twins are not here. They are more your age, and would make you feel at home. Come, let's get you both seated. Turning twenty-one is a special day. I'll do my best to make this a memorable evening."

When they were seated at a large round table, enjoying a before dinner drink, a tall figure accosted their table. Cal saw him first. Macey caught him glaring. She quickly glanced up.

"Well, hello. I knew our paths would cross again," he said in that English accent she had so admired the day he helped her up when she fell outside the cab. He bowed, unexpectedly taking her hand into his to place a kiss on its back. Macey snatched her hand away. Had he forgotten their last meeting, and that she knew what he was – a flesh peddler. She heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back as Cal reared up. Whatever Cal meant to say or do, was put on hold, as another man approached their table. The smell of exotic cologne pulled her gaze away from the Englishman to the face of the handsomest Latin she had ever seen.

"Cal, what a wonderful surprise. My mother just told me that you were here." He clasped Cal's arm in an affectionate shake. He spoke English well, but none could deny the Latin accent, rich and heady. And a face even handsomer than that of the Englishman. He had the blackest irises Macey had ever seen.

"It's good to see you, too," Cal accepted the armclasp with equal affection. "This restaurant should do well with you at its helm."

"It better do," Eduardo said. "Or I may never fully earn my father's respect as his eldest son."

Macey hoped neither of the two men could hear her heart hammering in her chest, or Lord forbid, read her thoughts.

Dark stygian eyes settled gracefully upon her. "And this lovely creature must be Linda and Tanner's daughter, Macey."

She felt as though she had lost the power of speech. Another man approached the table. This one was the youngest of the three. He had blonde wavy hair, and beautiful blue eyes. And they were gazing at her with deep interest. "She has grown into a beautiful young woman, Cal." He bent and took the hand she had snatched from the Englishman. "You don't remember me, do you? But you were very young when my parents and I spent a week at the Driscoll's ranch. I only saw you a couple of times when your father worked as foreman at the Bar LB."

Macey rummaged through her memories. Her father had brought her down to the Bar LB on several occasions. But she had no memory of the blonde Adonis standing before her and holding her hand in a tender clasp. "I don't remember you at all," she said honestly.

He smiled, and Macey swallowed.

He said, "I know, we were both very young, and I didn't take well to strangers. I'm Michael Sands. My parents and Cal's parents have been good friends for many years."

Cal interjected, "Macey doesn't remember you, but Aunt Henrietta and Uncle Val remember her. I spoke to your parents recently over the phone. They told me you planned coming down to the City for a brief vacation."

So Cal must have planned this whole gathering. He could have told her, justifiable resentment flaring up and returning her ability to speak. She wasn't sure what she should say. She settled on remarking to Cal, "I didn't know your parents had more brothers and sisters. I never heard of all these uncles and aunts."

Michael released her hand. She wished he'd held it longer. He laughed good-heartedly. "Oh, sorry about that. We're so used to calling them Aunts and Uncles. They are not actually related to us. But we've known them all our lives, and they are very close friends of Cal's mother, as we call her, Aunt Leatrice."

"By the way, Cal asked, "where's John?"

"He's overseas, doing a stint in the Army,” Michael replied. “We're all praying he gets back home safely. My sister Sharon is studying abroad in France. I saw Aunt Cybelle and Uncle Mark and their four offspring before leaving home. They all send their regards and best wishes, as well."

"So everybody that supposed to be here, is here?" Macey asked, a bit confused.

"Yeah," Cal answered. "I'm sorry I didn't reveal that there were guests coming. I was worried you wouldn't come. But I wanted you to meet, the right kind of folks." He glanced heatedly at the Englishman.

"Well, perhaps, another time soon, we can share a drink," he said to Macey. "If you will all excuse me, I must get back to my table and my guests."

Don't count on it, Macey muttered under her breath.

But all in all, judging by the handsome charmers sitting down to join her for dinner, Cal had not erred. His Aunt Doreen was right about giving her a memorable evening.