Misty swore under her breath as she and Alex trotted down the Riverwalk as fast as her high-heeled charro boots would let her. They slipped in the employee entrance and she hurried to the lounge, where the rest of the band was putting the final touches on their tuning. “Sorry I’m late,” she said to no one in particular as she pulled her trumpet from its case.
“Alex make you late?” Ren poked.
“I wish,” she shot back. Even though she was playing a part she felt her face turn a little red. “It was Judge Menchaca and a crappy mediation.”
“House is full tonight,” Linda noted as she handed Misty an electronic tuner.
“It’ll be worse next week,” Eric piped up. “Spring break starts next Saturday.”
My God, was it already the first week of March? Had she really been playing with Los Muchachos Ochos for three weeks already?
Three totally fruitless weeks, she thought sardonically as she put her trumpet to her lips for their first number. She had played seven—no, eight gigs with them, at Rio Rojo and at a couple of weddings. Both she and Alex had kept their eyes peeled and their ears open for anything they could learn about the band members and everyone else working in the club, and she had even managed a quick search of the employee lounge late one evening while Alex kept a lookout in the hall.
She had learned quite a bit: Three affairs between married waiters and single waitresses, the head bartender batted for both teams, Marta suspected Andy was stepping out on her but Linda didn’t think so, and since the first night they met, Ren continued to make it clear that he didn’t want her playing with the band.
But she hadn’t learned anything concrete about drugs in the club. Yet she had a definite feeling that something was going on; she just couldn’t tell what. Frustrated at her lack of progress, she started to feel it in her bones; her little brother was being framed. But if she was going to save the boy, she needed more than just a feeling. She needed proof she didn’t have.
Alex was waiting for her in the employee lounge after the performance. “You sounded wonderful tonight, cara,” he said as he put his arm around her and kissed her cheek gently.
Misty turned her head just a tad and kissed him softly on the lips. “Thank you. I had fun tonight.”
“I’m glad.” He smiled down at her tenderly.
They were playing their parts like a couple of pros. She let herself lean into his embrace, an embrace she was beginning to wish was real. Their romance might all be an act, but the attraction she felt for him was becoming more powerful as they were continually thrown together.
And she was pretty sure Alex felt the same. There were too many unconscious clues—the widening of his eyes when he looked at her, the subtle changes in his breathing when he touched her, the frank appraisal he made of her when he thought she wasn’t looking—that revealed his desire. But it seemed to be only a physical phenomenon brought on by a long stretch of celibacy, and she wasn’t interested in scratching an itch, no matter how strong the attraction between them.
The band chatted a bit while packing up their instruments. “So when do we play next?” she asked, hoping Chito would not have another weeknight gig lined up any time soon.
“What’s the matter, Misty? Getting tired of playing with us?” Ren taunted. “Is our schedule too much for you?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said as her lips thinned.
“Actually, Ren, you’d be tired if you worked the same schedule she does.” Alex looked at Ren with exasperation. “Misty bills close to sixty hours a week.”
“Unlike some of the rest of us, you mean?” Ren shot back. The two cousins glared at one another.
What the hell was that little exchange all about?
Chito cleared his throat. “Our next gig is here on Saturday night. Okay, everybody, we sounded good tonight. Let’s head out of here so those of you with day jobs can go home and get some rest.”
The band wished each other a good night and disappeared one by one. When the last member wandered out, Alex dropped his act and stepped to the door. “Take another look around in here. I’ll stand watch.”
As she had before, Misty started with the unsecured lockers, not touching the contents but taking a quick peek inside, but she came up with nothing. Most had little or nothing stashed in them, and none of the handbags were large enough to contain anything more than a few essentials. She took a quick look through the cabinets and drawers next to the sink and microwave. All were empty except for the bottom drawer, where Misty found an empty Ziploc bag. “Alex, come take a look,” she said, pointing to the bag in the drawer.
He looked at the bag. “Maybe it means something, maybe it doesn’t. Leave it in place and check the drawer again the next time we’re here.”
She nodded and they left the nightclub and walked up the Riverwalk toward the parking garage. This late on a weeknight, the Riverwalk was almost empty; they could talk freely. “So what do you think?” she asked. “It’s been almost month and other than me having a hunch that something’s hinky, we’ve turned up absolutely zero. Am I kidding myself about my little brother?”
“No, I don’t think so. I keep going back to that first batch of drugs they found. Kirby wasn’t there that night or for a few nights beforehand. You have to be patient. This may take a while.”
“Okay. Frustrated, but patient. By the way, what was that crack about? The one Ren made after your dig about the hours I work?”
Alex was quiet a minute. “Let’s just say that at the moment Ren and I aren’t particularly inspired to turn ourselves inside out at work. Most days I could give a shit about the job or anything else and it shows. And Ren—hell, I have no idea what’s going on with him, but these days he barely puts in a minimum workweek. He’s more interested in the band than anything else. El Jefe and Tio Joaquin were both visibly relieved when Lalo finished up his Miss Santa stint and got back to his job.”
“After waltzing off with Miss Santa herself.” Misty smiled wistfully in the dark. “Gina’s so proud of that ring he put on her finger. And so happy.” She ignored the silence. “Anyway, I have to wonder about Ren and why he really, really doesn’t want us around.”
“So do I. By the way, we have another little problem. La Reina found out that I have a new girlfriend and she’s insisting that I bring you to dinner with the family Sunday night.”
“La Reina? Your mother? She thinks you have a girlfriend for real? She wants to meet me?”
“That she does. In fact, she’s insisting.”
“How did she find out?”
Alex laughed. “We’ve gone out of our way to make people believe we’re a couple. You don’t think somebody’s going to pick up the phone and tell my mother that her poor, grieving niño is finally seeing somebody? Hell, maybe Gina found out and told Lalo. I’m just surprised that it took my mother this long to learn about us—what she thinks is us.”
“So what do we do?”
“If we don’t want to blow our cover, we show up at Mama’s place Sunday evening and make like we’re a couple.”
“But that would be lying to your mother. Do we have to?”
“What do you think? Look, I don’t want to go either. I don’t like lying to my mother any more than you do, but if I don’t bring you she’s going to wonder what’s really going on. Besides, El Jefe’s gotten wind of it too and the old goat’s as suspicious as all get-out, and if he or anybody else finds out the truth, our little spying mission is history. Comprende?”
“Yep. So what time and how fancy?”
“I’ll pick you up about six. Informal but not overly so. Mama is always dressed to the nines but that’s just her.”
“Gotcha. Just us and them, or will Gina and Lalo be there?”
“They’ll probably be there too. Don’t worry about fooling them. They’re so into each other I doubt they’ll even notice the rest of us.”
They fell silent as they walked down the Riverwalk, the water sparkling with the colorful glow of neon signs lining the meandering river. Misty glanced over at Alex and was startled to see him looking at her with frank hunger in his eyes. It’s all physical, she reminded herself as she tore her eyes from his perusal. He was still in love with Leigh Anne and made no secret of the fact. But what about Misty? Was the attraction just physical for her too, or was she beginning to feel something for the man walking beside her?
Was she starting to care about Alex Navarro?
*****
Good God, the place was a mansion. The house was around the same vintage as hers and built in the same Spanish spirit, but the similarities ended there. Misty’s bungalow could fit into one of the three living rooms.
In a kitchen a professional chef would die for, a tiny Anglo woman who Alex introduced as Betty Lou was putting the finishing touches on a plate of cheese-stuffed jalapeno poppers wrapped in bacon, which sat beside baked artichoke dip with homemade crackers. A delicious smell—a roast?—came from the oven and chilled asparagus and a mouth-watering potato casserole waited on a side counter next to a meringue-topped pie.
“Betty Lou, everything smells delicious,” Misty gushed.
“Why thank you, Miss Martinez.” The bright-eyed little woman beamed as she pushed the appetizer tray across the kitchen island so Misty could reach. She looked from Alex to Misty, her expression assessing. “It’s good to have you here.”
“It’s good to be here,” Misty replied, ignoring the pang of guilt she felt for deceiving this nice little woman and everyone else in the Navarro household.
Alex snagged a jalapeno popper and headed for the built-in bar. “Can I get you something?” he asked as he poured himself a generous glass of Scotch.
“A little wine maybe?”
“Alex, pour her a glass of the Cabernet. Or would you prefer a white wine?” Ernest Navarro asked as he strode into the room.
“The Cab’s fine,” she answered as she extended her hand to Alex’s father. “I’m Misty Martinez. Thank you for your hospitality this evening.”
“My pleasure,” Ernest said easily as he eyed her with thinly veiled speculation. “Your father and I go back a long way.”
“So he said. And after meeting you, I can see where your boys get their good looks.”
“Lalo is the living image of his papa. Alex looks more like my father and grandfather.” Clarissa Palacios de Navarro wafted in the room on a cloud of expensive perfume, her dark hair perfectly coiffed and her ivory pants and ruffled blouse a picture of elegance. Misty glanced down at her own black slacks and green sweater and hoped Gina was not coming dressed to perfection.
Clarissa held Misty’s hand with both of her own. “I am so, so glad to meet you this evening.” Clarissa’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she kissed Misty gently on the cheek.
“I’m glad to meet you too,” Misty said, barely able to look Clarissa in the eye as guilt weighed heavily on her. The poor woman thought her son was finally overcoming his paralyzing grief and moving on. Clarissa was going to feel disappointed and betrayed when she found out it was a lie.
Alex handed Misty a glass of Cabernet, an expensive one if the taste and bouquet were anything to go by, and sipped his own generous glass of Scotch. Clarissa expertly moved them to the sitting area and Betty Lou placed the appetizers and small plates conveniently close. Misty helped herself to a couple of poppers and spread the dip on a cracker. “So how did you and Alex get together?” Clarissa asked. “I don’t recall you and Alex ever meeting as children. Did Gina and Lalo introduce you?”
Uh-oh, interrogation time, and they hadn’t even settled on a story to tell Alex’s parents. Misty glanced over at him, who gestured to her to tell the tale. When lying, stay as close to the truth as possible. “Actually, Alex and I met when he was running for Congress. I was Jimmy Adamcik’s campaign manager.”
Clarissa and Ernest both looked surprised. “Then you knew—” Clarissa stopped and bit her lip.
“Yes, I knew Leigh Anne,” Misty confirmed quietly.
“Better than she knew me, actually,” Alex said darkly.
“Her death was such a loss.” She took a deep breath and plowed on. “Alex and I reconnected recently when I contacted him about a legal matter.” She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. That was close to the truth and hopefully the Navarros would buy it. “I played a little trumpet for him one evening and said I missed performing and he was kind enough to hook me up with Ren’s mariachi group.”
Ernest looked a bit skeptical, but Clarissa seemed to take the story at face value. “How is Ren, by the way? It’s been months since he’s come by to see his Tia,” she pouted prettily.
Misty nodded to Alex. “He’s just being Ren, I guess.”
“I’ll remind him that he needs to visit you, cara,” Ernest added.
The doorbell rang and a moment later Stan the butler ushered in Gina and Lalo, who were holding hands and smiling. They greeted everyone with enthusiasm, and if either of them was surprised to see Misty, they did not let it show. “We got the best news this week,” Gina gushed as she kissed Clarissa on the cheek. “Mom’s cancer’s in remission and she’s feeling good and raring to get started on our wedding.”
“Oh, mija, I’m so glad,” Clarissa said. “For you and your mother. Have you set a date? Do you know where you’re having it yet? Have you chosen a site for the reception?”
“Yes, no and no,” Lalo said as he gave his mother and Misty hugs and shook hands with his father and brother.
The younger couple sat down and thankfully the conversation centered on Gina and Lalo’s wedding plans, sparing Misty and Alex from having to come up with more fabrications to tell his parents.
Ernest and Alex listened politely without saying much, but Alex poured himself a generous second helping of Scotch that he had just about finished by the time Betty Lou and Stan were ready to serve. Misty wondered if the discussion had brought back unwelcome memories of his wedding to Leigh Anne.
Betty Lou’s dinner was delicious, and conversation was lively as Lalo and Gina brought everyone up to date on his political progress.
Stan and Betty Lou had cleared the plates and were slicing the pie when Alex got up and returned a moment later with yet another glass of Scotch. Clarissa’s lips tightened as she looked across the table at her son. “A little much, mijo?” she asked softly, nodding toward the glass.
“I’m fine, Mama,” Alex said gruffly. “I’m not getting borracho.” Nevertheless, to Clarissa’s obvious relief he pushed the whiskey glass toward the middle of the table and washed his pie down with iced tea.
They lingered over dessert, and Misty found herself wishing that her role wasn’t a sham. She hated fooling these lovely people, Clarissa in particular. But she had no choice, she reminded herself as they rose from the table and Clarissa invited her and Gina to have a few minutes of girls-only time in the upstairs sitting room. If Misty was going to clear her brother’s name, she would have to continue with the subterfuge, and hope that Clarissa, and all the others they were deliberately deceiving, would find a way to forgive them for their dishonesty.
*****
Well, that was interesting, Alex thought as he snagged the whiskey glass from the middle of the table and took a generous gulp. Misty had played her part well. Gina and Lalo hadn’t suspected a thing and La Reina had fallen for their act hook, line and sinker, which was going to make it worse when their little charade was over and his mother found out the truth.
He hadn’t missed the tears in Clarissa’s eyes when she met Misty or the obvious relief on her face when she looked at him, even if she had fussed at him for the extra drink. She was going to be so disappointed when it was all over. But that couldn’t be helped, not if he and Misty were going to finger the true culprits at Rio Rojo and get Kirby Martinez off the hook.
Alex took another gulp of his drink and glanced over at his father, who had his famous cut-the-bullshit expression on his face. Uh-oh—El Jefe knew something was up. And his old man was going to want to know what. “Alex, let’s talk in my office. Lalo, can you entertain yourself for a few minutes?”
“Sure. I can look at the real estate links my realtor sent over a few minutes ago.” He whipped out his cell phone and was instantly absorbed with whatever was on the screen.
Alex obediently followed his father into his downstairs office and pushed the door almost closed. Ernest sat down in his favorite reading chair and pointed to the adjacent love seat. “Care to tell me what the hell is going on? Just last month you were declaring your undying love for your dead wife and the next thing we know you’ve got a hot and heavy sweetie. Mijo, I’m not buying it.”
Alex’s mind raced. Should he try to bluff his way through it or level with his father? He thought a minute and decided he’d be better off opting for the truth. El Jefe was a good judge of character—too good a judge to fall for the half-baked story Alex would come up with without Misty’s help. And Alex knew deep in his bones that Ernest would keep their secret, even if he thought the whole thing was a crock and that Kirby was guilty.
“The whole thing’s a sham to get Misty and me closer to Ren’s mariachi band to figure out who the hell’s using El Rio Rojo as a drug distribution center. Whoever they are set up her little brother to take the fall. The police are convinced they have their man and aren’t even looking at other possibilities.”
Ernest’s eyebrow shot up. “The busboy who was arrested is Rolando’s son? Why in the hell am I just now finding this out?”
“Maybe Mr. Martinez isn’t so proud of the fact that his kid was arrested in his old friend’s nightclub. Of his two kids, Misty’s given him more to be proud of than the boy. Anyway, Misty and her father prevailed upon me to look at the evidence against Kirby. The more I looked into the reality of the situation, the more I’m convinced that the kid is somebody else’s patsy. So I agreed to help Misty get to the bottom of it.
“Unfortunately, Ren’s band was performing both nights, which makes them the most likely common denominator. The only way we could think of to get her into that band was to pretend she’s my new sweetie and that I’m indulging her by asking the band to include her.”
“And how’s that working out? Is she a decent musician?”
“She’s damn good, and they were glad to get her. All but Ren, that is. He doesn’t want her there and makes no secret of it. Which, under the circumstances, has us wondering why.”
“Yes, I guess it would. So have you found anything out that would clear the boy’s name and implicate someone else?”
“Not a damn thing. Just a woman’s intuition, and Misty knows that’s not enough.”
“A woman’s intuition? You know, Alex, over the years I’ve learned to trust a woman’s intuition. If Misty feels like more is going on than meets the eye, then there probably is.”
“So you don’t think this is just a bunch of horse manure on her dad’s part? You think there might be something to it?”
“Quien sabe? Who knows? The boy may be as guilty as sin. But you’re not a stupid man and that woman upstairs with your mother strikes me as anything but gullible, so it’s probably worth pursuing. Just be damn careful, mijo. Drug dealers are some of the most dangerous people on this planet.”
“We’ll be careful, Papa.”
Ernest looked at Alex thoughtfully. “You know, Misty Martinez is a lovely woman. Have you considered getting something going with her for real?”
Alex jerked his head up. “Why do you ask?”
Ernest smiled wistfully. “Because at first you almost had me fooled. The way you look at her, the way she looks at you.” His father shrugged. “Either you’re the best two performers outside of Hollywood, or there is something between you, or could be.”
Alex thought about his initial reaction to Misty and the attraction he’d fought ever since. “I’ve thought about it, yes,” he said carefully. “But—”
“But what?” Ernest prompted.
“But it would only be a fling, Papa. Just a fling. Nothing more than that. Not now and not ever.”
“Just a fling? Alex, that woman’s worth a lot more than a thoughtless fling.”
Alex felt his face harden. “She may be, Papa, but it’s a fling or nothing. Damn it, how can it ever be more than a fling, with Misty or any other woman, when I still love Leigh Anne?”
Ernest’s smile was sad as he looked at his son. “A fling it is, then. So go ahead and have a fling with her, Alex. If that’s all you have to offer.”
“That’s absolutely all I have to offer.”
*****
You can take your fling and shove it where the sun don’t shine, pendejo.
Misty stood frozen outside Ernest’s office door, hurt and anger roiling through her as she heard Alex and his father casually discussing them. Her anger was not so much at Mr. Navarro—he’d told Alex that she was worth more than a fling—but at Alex. Her father’s come-to-Jesus moment with him notwithstanding, Alex was still thinking of her in terms of sex and nothing more, and she would be damned if she would put up with that. If it had been anything more than sex, Misty would have been tempted, so tempted. But a meaningless fling while he wished she were someone else? Not on her life.
But she would take this up with Alex later, if and when he made a pass at her. In the meantime, she found the powder room she’d come downstairs in search of and returned to the sunroom, where the rest of the dinner party had re-gathered.
Lalo passed his phone around, showing them all the property he and Gina were to look at some time in the coming week, and they visited for a few more minutes before Clarissa gently shooed the younger couples toward the front door. “At your ages you can be up half the night and still go to work the next day, but El Jefe needs his rest.” She turned to Misty and hugged her gently. “I’m so glad Alex is seeing you now,” she said softly. “He’s needed this for a while.”
Misty mumbled her thanks for dinner and let Alex escort her to his car. “Are you okay to drive?” she asked as he opened the passenger door.
He raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m not?”
“Three stiff drinks in a two-hour period? You tell me.”
Alex made a face and handed her the keys. “If it makes you feel better.” He got in the passenger seat.
She got behind the wheel and adjusted the seat. “Damn, I could get used to this,” she said a couple of blocks later as the late-model BMW sports car rumbled beneath her, its smooth and powerful engine wasted on a city street.
He smiled faintly. “You ought to see what it’ll do on that nice stretch of I-10 between Kerrville and El Paso where the speed limit’s eighty.”
“You actually obey the speed limit out there?”
“No, and neither does anybody else. Leigh Anne—” He fell silent and Misty could feel the tension radiating off him.
“Leigh Anne what?” she prompted gently.
Alex was quiet for a long minute. “I was just going to say that she loved to drive fast.” He said nothing more and they drove to Misty’s house in silence.
At her front door, she turned to face him. “I had a nice evening with your family. They’re lovely people and you’re lucky to have them.”
He nodded. “I think so.”
“So I think I’ll say good night.”
Alex grinned sardonically. “Aren’t you going to ask me inside?”
“No,” Misty said carefully. “I have to get up early tomorrow morning.”
“I could sure use a cup of coffee and a few minutes for that last drink to wear off.” But from the hunger in his eyes, she could tell that coffee was the last thing on his mind.
But even if she turned him down, which she had every intention of doing, a cup of coffee to sober him up a little wouldn’t hurt. “Fine.” She motioned him inside. “Have a seat in the living room.” She disappeared into the kitchen without giving him a chance to reply.
Alex was waiting on the sofa when she brought in the coffee. She started for the chair but he gently pulled her down on the sofa beside him. She sipped her coffee as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He took his time drinking the coffee, eye-fucking her between sips.
Misty was tempted, and if there had been the least bit of hope that they’d make love and it would mean anything to him, she wouldn’t turn him away.
Finally, he finished his coffee and slid closer, draping his arm around her. “So we’ve done a good job of pretending to be lovers, yes?” he asked softly.
“Actually, we’ve done a great job,” she said as she eased away from the warmth of his embrace. She leaned forward and put her coffee cup on the table. “Too good, probably. We’ve started to imagine an attraction where there isn’t one.”
Alex reached out and snagged her wrist. “Oh, there’s attraction, cariña. Plenty of it and it’s very real.”
“Maybe on your part,” Misty lied as she tried and failed to free her wrist. “But not on mine.”
He looked at her with an expression that was almost feral. “Oh, there’s plenty of attraction on your part too, you just don’t want to admit it. But you’re going to. By damn, you’re going to.”
Alex moved swiftly, imprisoning her in a viselike grip as he crushed his mouth down on hers with commanding power. She stiffened momentarily, but as Alex’s lips softened and his hold loosened, he began to tease, and she melted into his embrace. Hands that had pushed against his chest began caressing as he drew her deeper into his embrace.
This time Misty felt the truth of his desire as he plundered her lips and mouth, his tongue seeking hers in a carnal duel of taste and touch. She tasted expensive whiskey and coffee, and breathed in the heady aroma of soap, cologne and Alex.
His arms tightened, crushing her breasts into his chest and making her nipples harden into two tight points of desire. Her fingers splayed into Alex’s thick, soft hair as she gently teased the new cut out of its carefully combed style.
God, what was it about this man that could make her lose herself so completely in his embrace? What was it about him that called to her so powerfully?
Alex lifted his lips and searched her face. “Still going to claim you’re not attracted to me?” He stared at her with undisguised hunger. “The sex would be spectacular.”
Misty blinked as she came off the sensual high. “Yes, the sex would be spectacular,” she agreed as she pushed herself away and stood up. “Probably the best thoughtless fling I could ever hope for. Greatest sex ever with a lover still declaring his undying love for his dead wife.”
Alex’s face darkened. “You were eavesdropping.”
“Door was open, powder room across the hall, kind of hard not to. Yes, I overheard you and your father discussing me like I was a slab of beef in the grocery store. Pissed me off, you know.”
He gave her a go-to-hell look. “We’re plenty attracted to one another. We could have a good time. Why wouldn’t that suit you?”
“Because I’m not much into mindless sex. And I’m sure as hell not into mindless sex with a man who’s still in love with a dead woman.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to be a sexual stand-in for your late wife.”
“Damn you to hell, Maricela,” Alex growled. “Damn you and all the others who expect me to just forget her and go on like she never existed. Damn you and everyone else who refuses to understand.”
“You’re still in love with Leigh Anne. I get that. But don’t expect me to be her substitute. It’s insulting to the both of us.”
Alex’s shoulders slumped. “Honestly, what do you expect of me? What do you think I should be capable of?”
Misty felt herself deflate as she took in Alex’s dejection. “Something that you probably can’t deliver, not now and maybe not ever. Go home. We have to get up early tomorrow morning.”
He looked at her with an unfathomable expression. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“Let me know if you change yours.”
Neither of them pretended they didn’t understand.
She sank into the couch and watched Alex let himself out the front door.
Was she being a fool not taking Alex up on his offer? Was he right? Setting the sheets on fire would be enough?
Didn’t matter. He would be making love to her and wishing she were Leigh Anne. There would be three of them in the bed, and Misty would be the odd one out.
No, it was better, much better not to become truly involved with Alex Navarro. She would always be playing second fiddle to Leigh Anne—the very position Misty promised herself she would never, ever accept again.