Page 128 of Back in the Saddle

“You haven’t had lunch, Luna,” he noted.

“It’s been busy,” she muttered.

“Lucia has set up a chef’s table in the kitchen.” He held his hand out to her. “Come.”

She took his hand, shot a look at all of us, and Tito led her out from behind the bar to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t sure about the Santa guy,” I heard Daisy whisper. “He looked like a gangster at the funeral, and he looks like a Jimmy Buffet impersonator now. But I think I like him.”

“I hear that,” Shirleen replied. Then she said, “Excuse me,” got up and walked right into the kitchen.

“Should I go get her?” Cap asked Raye.

“Not on your life,” Raye said to Cap.

Cap smiled at his woman.

I turned my attention to Eric and smiled at him.

Then I tapped the menu and asked, “What can I get for you, baby?”

Eric took a stool.

Cap took the one beside him.

Daisy scooched over.

And we heard Tex bellow from the cubby, “Can’t anyone read in this town or has the sun fried your brains? It sayssugar cookie peppermint mochaandI…don’t…deviate!”

Which made Daisy laugh her amazing bell laugh.

But the rest of our laughs were just normal.

FOURTEEN

GENERALISSIMO HOT GUY

It was a little after 7:00, our shift was over, so Harlow and I were walking to our cars.

I had a lot on my mind.

The least of which was that, when she came on shift, I’d quizzed Shanti about the Oasis Christmas decorations.

She’d told me that Bill and Zach (our self-appointed community organizers and Oasis shared-space decorators) had asked Dreamweaver Inc. (our landlord) if they could put up holiday decorations.

Dreamweaver had answered by giving them a budget and the number to a storage unit where they could haul the stuff they bought when the holiday was over.

Yeah.

It sounded crazy, but our landlord was just that awesome.

As much as I could still marvel at how awesome our landlord was, again, that was the least of what was on my mind.

The majority was twofold.

First, that morning I hadn’t done what I promised myself I would do. Jump out of bed, hit the grocery store, then go back to Eric’s and make the mocha icebox cake so it had plenty of time to ferment (or whatever) by that evening, so Eric and I could eat it.

The second was, Eric had come to lunch, but I hadn’t heard from him since, and before he left from lunch, we hadn’t made plans for that night.

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