but mostly she was eavesdropping on Tyler and the beautiful innkeeper. It only took about a second to pick up that these two were old friends. Sheesh. Jozette at the Rainbow Rest-O-Rant and now the offbeat proprietor of Beau’s B and B. Did he know every unattached woman in the western hemisphere?
“Aw, c’mon, Kate,” Tyler grumbled. “You know I don’t have a reservation. How long have we known each other? Have I ever had a reservation?”
“No,” the brunette returned cheerfully. “But I keep hoping you’ll surprise me.” She cocked her head to one side, fixing him with a mischievous gaze. “Are you going to pay me this time?”
“You can take it out in trade,” he said in a low, husky voice, and Emily just about fainted where she stood. Take it out in trade? What kind of trade was he talking here?
Now she really hated her. Lucky dog, she thought. But the innkeeper, the vivacious Kate, didn’t seem to take the offer seriously. She just laughed at Tyler, shaking a finger in his direction, while a huge yellow tabby leaped up on the desk from out of nowhere, right smack in between the two of them. The cat landed with a clatter, knocking over a ceramic pencil cup and scattering pens and papers every which way.
“Whoa.” But after the momentary surprise, Tyler leaned in and began to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Hey, big bad Beau, it’s been a long time. You still remember me, pal?”
Beau, after whom the B and B was apparently named, responded with a loud, rusty purr that Emily could hear all the way over by the door. She took that for a yes.
“I guess rascals and rogues have to stick together,” Kate noted dryly. “You and that cat are two of a kind. Beau, get down from there.”
The cat ignored her, whipping her with its tail, giving her a dismissive glance from brilliant green eyes—eyes that were the exact same shade as Tyler’s.
“I’ve got it. Leaves on an apple tree,” Emily said out loud. The apple tree outside her bedroom window when she was a kid. She’d finally placed the color.
Tyler, Kate and even the cat turned at her words. Oops. Emily could feel her face suffuse with rosy heat.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Just thinking out loud.”
“About apple trees?” Tyler shook his head. She could see the questions forming on his lips. Who are you, anyway? Why are you following me? And who gave you a day pass from the mental ward?
Oh, yeah. She was making a great impression.
Kate smiled kindly. “I’ll be with you in just a sec,” she told Emily. And she winked, as if to say, I get the apple tree thing.
Oh, dear. Here she was ready to dislike Kate on sight, and the innkeeper was acting like a co-conspirator. Emily focused on the postcard from Pago Pago, trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts.
Meanwhile Kate turned her attention back to Tyler. “Hey, Ty, I’ve changed things since the last time you were here. You were in the Gone With the Wind room last time, right?”
He nodded.
Kate sighed. “I loved that room. But I had to redecorate. A couple of guests set the bed on fire trying to recreate the burning of Atlanta.”
“That’s, uh, too bad,” Tyler choked, disguising a chuckle by concentrating on the cat. He stroked his fur and tried to maneuver the stubborn little animal into a position where he could get picked up. Undaunted, Beau stood his ground, bonked his head into Tyler’s chest and purred even louder.
Emily was enchanted. This was the first time she’d seen him really smile, let alone laugh, plus he was acting all sweet and tender toward the yellow cat. It was a whole different side of him.
“Okay,” Kate went on, chewing the end of a pencil. “Let’s see. I know you like the Pirate and Kismet rooms best, but they’re full. So I guess I’ll put you in the new one.”
“And that is…?” he asked warily.
“You’ll love it. After I decided Gone With The Wind was too dangerous, I switched to my next favorite movie,” she explained. “Turns out it’s perfect for you. The Wild One. Yep. You’ve already got the leather jacket and everything. And you get to sleep under Marlon Brando’s picture. Cool, huh?”
“The Wild One?” Tyler shook his head. “The Pirate and the red one—what is it, Kismet?—are bad enough. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done to this one.”
Emily couldn’t wait, either. She could feel her eyes growing rounder at the mental images The Wild One evoked. She knew that movie. Leather jackets, motorcycles. Bad attitude. She gulped, trying to contain her growing excitement. Wow. It was perfect for Tyler.
But he didn’t seem to notice. He just scooped up his key and his duffel bag and went down the hall. As soon as he left, his best pal Beau went after him, skidding off the desk and showering pens and paper clips to the four winds.
As Emily watched Tyler’s well-shaped, jean-clad derriere disappear up the stairs, her mouth went dry. But his departure didn’t really dampen her enthusiasm. Once again, she thanked the Fates that had landed her in the midst of all this. Pirates and Kismet and The Wild One? This place was great!
She stepped up to the desk, eager to see what room awaited her. The way things had gone so far, maybe this would be perfect, too. Maybe there would be a Mata Hari room with her name on it, she mused. Or Xena, Warrior Princess.
“So, you’re checking in?” Kate inquired.
“Right. If you have a room.” After buttoning her suit jacket so it more completely covered the stain from the cognac spill, Emily hurriedly ran her hands through the basic brown strands of her chin-length bob. She hoped she wasn’t too much of a mess. After all, she had to look respectable enough to get a room.
“One room left,” Kate told her.
Emily smiled. See? Her luck was holding.
“Will you need help with your…? Oh.” Her host glanced over the desk and then back up at Emily. “No luggage?”
“Lost,” Emily replied quickly. “I think my bags got sent to, uh, Pago Pago by mistake.”
“Okay. Well, if you need me to call the airline and track that down for you, you let me know,” Kate offered sympathetically. “Usually lost baggage shows up in a day or two, but it never hurts to call. Just leave the tracking number and I’ll be happy to take care of it.”
“Tracking number. Right.”
Kate leaned forward, sniffing loudly. “What is that smell? Smells like, I don’t know, brandy or scotch or something. It’s really strong, isn’t it?”
Emily stiffened, but Kate didn’t appear to notice, or to pinpoint the source of the overpowering, boozy odor.
“I wonder what Beau got into now. I hope he didn’t knock over the decanter in the parlor.” She frowned. “You wouldn’t believe the things that cat thinks it’s funny to dip his tail in.”
“It’s not the cat.”
Kate paused. “No?”
