Bachelor By Design: Bachelor By Design / Too Hot For Comfort. Kay DavidЧитать онлайн книгу.
on the two-hour trip from St. Louis, determined to convince Eileen to go straight once and for all. “You’ll have a much better chance of making parole if you’ve got both a job and a place to stay when you get out.”
“I’m really overqualified for most jobs,” Eileen mused. “And I refuse to work in another laundry.” She frowned down at her chapped hands. “Just look at what that harsh detergent has done to my nails.”
Chloe leaned forward in her chair. “Mother, you can’t be picky this time. And you absolutely cannot work for Uncle Leo again.”
“But he let me set my own hours.”
“You were a courier for his money-laundering operation!”
“He had a wonderful dental plan.”
“You’re going legit this time, Mom.” Chloe set her jaw. “I mean it. Ramon needs you on the outside, and so do I.”
Eileen frowned. “What’s the matter with Ramon?”
Chloe didn’t know where to begin. It seemed her younger brother was always suffering some sort of crisis. “Well, he’s still upset about his broken engagement. I knew it was a mistake for you to fix him up with your cellmate.”
“I thought having a girlfriend might give him some self-confidence. He’s so shy around women.”
“His girlfriend was convicted of attempted murder!”
“But Nanette seems like such a nice girl. And so pretty. By the way, she’s not my cellmate anymore. Her conviction got overturned last month on a technicality. I heard she moved to Florida, so she’s out of his life.”
“Good,” Chloe said. “Because the last thing we need in this family is another felon. Now, I think you should move in with me when you get out of here and I’ll help you find a good, legitimate job.”
“You can’t afford another mouth to feed, honey. Especially when you’re struggling to start a new business.”
“I already got my first big job,” Chloe announced, trying her best to sound nonchalant about it. “So money won’t be a problem.”
“You did!” Eileen’s face lit up. “Oh, Chloe, that’s wonderful. When did this happen?”
“Just yesterday, actually. I picked up Ramon from work at Café Romeo and ran into the owner. She treated me to a cup of coffee and the next thing I know, she’s offering me a job to redecorate the place.”
“Imagine that. Isn’t she some kind of psychic?”
Chloe smiled. “Her name is Madame Sophia, and I believe she’s a former fortune-teller. At the café she reads coffee grounds and predicts romance for her customers.”
Eileen nodded approvingly. “What a great scam. She must be raking in the dough.”
“She’s legit, Mom. At least she believes in what she does. And it must be working, because she’s remodeling the place to make it bigger. That’s why she needs a decorator.”
“So did you ask Madame Sophia to read your coffee grounds?”
“Of course not. You know I don’t believe in that kind of nonsense.”
“My sensible Chloe. I suppose you don’t believe in love, either.”
“Actually, I do. But it’s hard to meet men these days.”
Eileen clucked her tongue. “You’re on the wrong side of twenty-five, dear. It’s time to stop being so picky.”
“I’m not picky,” Chloe countered. “As long as they pass the FBI background check.”
Eileen laughed, but Chloe wasn’t joking. Growing up among the D’Onofrio men had taught her exactly what she didn’t want in a man. They were all handsome, charming, stubborn male chauvinists. And they all had criminal records. Except Ramon, whom she’d managed to keep out of trouble. So far, anyway.
To be fair, Chloe’s deceased father hadn’t had a criminal record, either. But only because the masterful jewel thief had never been caught.
“Maybe I’ll give Café Romeo a try myself,” Eileen said playfully. “After spending the last three years in here, I could use some romance in my life.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Chloe exclaimed, willing to show enthusiasm for anything that would keep her mother out of trouble. And out of jail. “As soon as you’re free we’ll go shopping. We’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe.”
“I need a perm, too,” Eileen said, fingering her faded brown hair. “And maybe a color touch-up.”
“We’ll shoot the works.” Thanks to Madame Sophia, Chloe would have enough money to give her mother a fresh new start. The coffeehouse owner might be a little flaky, but her job offer couldn’t have come at a better time. Madame Sophia hadn’t even asked for any references. All she’d required of Chloe was to sign on the dotted line.
And, oddly enough, to drink one cup of Café Romeo’s special blend of Jamaican almond coffee.
“DON’T SAY I didn’t warn you.”
Trace Callahan looked up from the sheet of plywood he was measuring to scowl at his little brother. Only Noah wasn’t so little anymore. He’d just turned twenty-six, and at six-three, stood an inch taller than his two older brothers. “Warn me? You’ve been predicting catastrophes ever since I told you Aunt Sophie confiscated our coffee grounds. Don’t you think you might be just a little paranoid?”
Noah Callahan snorted. “That’s the same thing Jake said. And looked what happened to him.”
“Jake’s not dead, he’s engaged.”
“Is there a difference?”
Trace shook his head in disgust, then pulled a stubby pencil out of his shirt pocket. He began marking off measurements on the wood, refusing to let this ridiculous conversation slow his progress on the expansion of Café Romeo. A common wall separated the coffeehouse from the now-defunct pizza parlor next door. He’d gutted the pizza parlor and stripped the oppressive red-and-black flocked wallpaper off the walls.
After spending several weeks remodeling the interior, he felt the place was finally beginning to come together. Just yesterday he’d cut the wide archway in the common wall that connected it to Café Romeo. He’d tacked an oilcloth over the opening to contain the dust, but he could still smell the fragrant aroma of fresh-ground coffee and hear the low murmurs of Aunt Sophie’s customers.
He stuck the pencil back in his shirt pocket, then glanced at his brother. Noah might have more brawn than Trace, but obviously not as much brain. He was also an inveterate playboy. “Look, Noah, you’ve got to get over this marriage phobia of yours. It isn’t healthy.”
“And I suppose your plan to have women audition for a chance to be your wife is what you call healthy?”
“Definitely. I’m planning to marry for keeps. As soon as I find the one who fits all my requirements.”
Noah visibly shuddered. “Well, I’m going while the going is good.”
“Going where?”
“Cleveland, Ohio. I arranged a job transfer there as soon as I found out Aunt Sophie had gotten her hands on our coffee grounds. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Don’t you think moving out of state is a little extreme?”
Noah folded his arms across his chest. “You tell me. Our big brother recently proposed to a woman he’s known less than a month. This is the same man who had a bumper sticker on his car that read Marriage is for Morons. And Aunt Sophie made it happen.” Noah leaned toward him and lowered his voice. “Be afraid, Trace. Be very afraid.”
“I like Nina,” Trace said in defense of his future sister-in-law. He