Part 24 (1/2)

W hen Frankie came around, she was in Nate's arms in the kitchen. Alex, Joy and George were staring at her.

”Guess she isn't used to good news,” George said as he chewed on a cookie.”I'm okay,” she murmured, pus.h.i.+ng against Nate's chest.

He put a gla.s.s of orange juice in front of her. ”Drink this.”

”No, I'm really okay.” She got to her feet, amused to find the ring clutched in her hand. Even when she'd been unconscious, she'd known enough not to lose the thing.

As she looked at the diamond, she thought, so this was what winning the lottery felt like. It was good. Really, really d.a.m.n good.

”Isn't this just amazing!” Joy exclaimed.

”You'll have better luck selling it down in the city,” Nate said. ”I've got some friends in the diamond district who can take care of it for you.”

Frankie nodded. ”But let's find out what it's worth, first. I'll take it to Albany tomorrow. To the jeweler who sold Grand-Em's other rings.”

There was a pause. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

She smiled and then, suddenly, she couldn't stop beaming. ”You know what we need to do? Let's go out to dinner. To celebrate. Let's get Grand-Em and go to the Silver Diner and eat ourselves silly.”

”Me, too?” George asked.

”Of course!” Frankie started laughing and pumped the ring over her head. ”Let's hear it for salvation.”

There was a hearty cheer from the group and even Alex cracked a smile.

In the end, her brother elected to stay behind, but Grand-Em was thrilled with the invitation. The five of them were just leaving the house when the phone started to ring. Frankie paused, hand on the back door.

”Let it go to voice mail,” Nate said in her ear. ”All the guests are accounted for. And we'll only be gone for an hour.”

But she couldn't do it. After a decade of being tied to the phone, letting it go knowingly unanswered felt like child abandonment.

She was breathless from rus.h.i.+ng to her desk as she picked up. She recognized the voice instantly and felt a sliver of dread.

”Nate,” she called out. ”It's for you. Spike.”

Nate frowned and strode through the kitchen to the office.”What's doing?” he said into the receiver.

”I've found the joint, man. It's perfect. In the theater district. We went there to eat just a couple of months ago. Tamale's.”

Nate propped his hip against the desk. He knew the place. It was small, intimate. Kitchen was open to the dining area. Nice area of the city to be in. ”Why are the owners selling?”

”Well, that's the thing. They're not sure they want to, but they're getting spanked. Tex-Mex is pa.s.se so they're not covering food and labor costs and their head chef quit two days ago when he got raided by someone else. The owners called me, wondering if I'd take over the stove. I went out for a drink with them last night, and man, they've got that b.l.o.o.d.y-eyeball exhaustion thing hanging around them like a funeral dirge. We got talking about their operation, and when I mentioned you and I were looking to buy, they were interested in getting together again. They seem desperate, so maybe they'll even hold paper for a while so we'll have a little more breathing room with the money. This is friggin' fantastic, man. Just what we've been looking for.”

Nate frowned. ”If they want to sell.”

”That's where you come in, you Harvard-a.s.s educated, fancy talkin' SOB. They're right on the edge and you're just the man to shoulder-check them into the abyss. Or have you forgotten your hockey moves?” Spike chuckled, but then his voice got serious. ”Man, this has got to be it. We've been trying so d.a.m.n hard and I'm tired of being on the sidelines. I have to get back to work, Walkman, I really do.”

Nate could totally understand that. He'd been itchy as h.e.l.l before he'd taken over at White Caps.

”So when're you coming down?” Spike demanded.

Nate thought about White Caps' kitchen. There wasn't much he could do, and now that Frankie had the ring, he felt less like he'd be abandoning her at a terrible time.

”Give me two days.”

”Good deal.” There was a pause. ”We're going to make this work, Walkman. And we're going to have a friggin' blast doing it.”

Nate hung up. And felt curiously numb.

He should be more psyched. h.e.l.l, he should be panting to get into Lucille and head down to the city. What was his problem?

Maybe it was because there wasn't really a deal, only the possibility of a deal. Maybe he'd just gotten his hopes up too many times.

Frankie poked her head in the door. ”Everything okay?”

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Nate drank in the sight of her. The light from overhead fell onto the dark waves of her hair and brought the features of her face out into high relief. She was wearing a little white s.h.i.+rt and a pair of well-worn jeans and had red flip-flops on her feet.

”Nate?”

He rubbed the middle of his chest. ”Yeah. It's all good.”

But was it? He heard the enthusiasm in Spike's voice again as well as the man's desperation to get back to the job he loved. He and Spike had made a pact to find their fortune together. Spike was relying on him to keep up his side of the bargain.

Good G.o.d, Nate thought, wrenching a hand through his hair. Was he actually considering pulling out?

Panic swirled in his gut.

No. He wasn't.

He was a man of his word. And besides, being an owner was his dream, too. He wasn't doing it as a favor to Spike.

”Nate?” she whispered.

He forced a smile and pushed himself off the desk.

”Come on, let's go.” He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her.

”He found something, didn't he.”

Nate stared down into her eyes. ”Yes, he did.”

As everyone piled into the Honda and Frankie got behind the wheel, she was frustrated. d.a.m.n it, White Caps had just been saved and here she was, back in the doldrums. She needed to lighten up.But how could she? The idea that Nate was going to the city in forty-eight hours to look at a place to buy made the end of the summer so real.

When they got to the Silver Diner, everyone was talking at the same time, George and Nate about sports, Joy and Grand-Em about some gala that had been held in 1954. Frankie felt herself withdrawing, just pinning a smile on her face and watching them all as if they were on TV.

Throughout dinner, she kept looking at Nate and finding herself missing him. When the meal was over and they filed out of the restaurant, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the maze of tables in the back room and then past the stools in the rail car. His touch was firm, warm. Tantalizing.