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lowered her voice. “What will you say? I mean, you can’t just blurt out, ‘Hey, you’re a dad.’”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “You’d better hurry. Someone will say something if they haven’t already.”

      “I know, I know.”

      Mel’s demeanor abruptly changed. Grabbing her by both arms, she broke into a happy smile. “So, when do you officially start?”

      Frankie had trouble forming the words. Before she could get any out, Tia Maria poked her head around the corner and crooked a finger at her. Uh-oh. She’d been caught slacking off.

      “Call you later,” she told Mel, and didn’t wait for a reply.

      Her employer led her to the same spot where the staff meeting had taken place moments ago. Frankie wondered if she was about to be fired. Could this day get any worse?

      “I should have told you about hiring my nephew,” the older woman said, a trace of contrition in her voice. “I realize you expected to get the job.”

      “You did imply as much.” Frankie resisted the anger building inside her.

      “I was considering you, I swear. Then my sister mentioned my nephew was looking for a job. He’s a good man. Honest and trustworthy.”

      And Frankie wasn’t?

      “I really do want to keep the restaurant in the family,” Tia Maria continued.

      “Does he have any experience?”

      “Some. I’m hoping you’ll teach him.”

      Frankie took that to mean the man knew nothing of the restaurant business. She started to speak when her cell phone vibrated from inside her pocket, signaling she had a message. Was Sam texting about the girls? Frankie had trouble concentrating.

      “I thought that you could help with the ordering and inventorying,” Tia Maria said. “You and Antonio can learn together.”

      No one had ever been allowed to assist with, much less take over, this task handled by the café owner. She was throwing Frankie a bone.

      “Does it come with a raise?”

      Tia Maria drew back. “The experience will be very valuable.”

      For what? Frankie would never need it here. Unless Tia Maria was expecting her to quit. Was it possible?

      “A raise would be better,” she said.

      Tia Maria relented with a shrug. “I’ll consider it.”

      If only Frankie could quit. But she needed a regular salary to cover the bills and put food on the table. Besides, there weren’t many well-paying opportunities for a waitress in Mustang Valley other than the café.

      “Por favor, do your best to make my Antonio feel welcomed. Moving away from home is going to be a big adjustment for him.”

      Frankie had a few big adjustments of her own waiting for her, one of them named Spence. “Sure. No problem.”

      For the first time, Tia Maria smiled. And why not? She’d gotten her way. Her nephew was now manager of the café, and Frankie had basically agreed to train him without guaranteed compensation. She could kick herself.

      Well, she’d just have to expand her catering business. Realistically, she had no other choice if she hoped to increase her earning potential. At the moment, being her own boss sounded very appealing.

      Before returning to the counter, she paused at the doorway to quickly check her phone—a practice generally frowned on, but Frankie didn’t care.

      All right, not a text. Rather, an e-mail from her crowd-funding campaign, notifying her of a donation. Must be the universe telling her she was right to concentrate on her own business rather than someone else’s.

      Tapping the phone’s screen, she opened the e-mail and followed the link to the donation page. Blinking, she looked again. Then a third time. Something wasn’t right. There must be a mistake. The amount showing was a whopping ten thousand dollars!

      She reread the notification over and over, closed the link and started again. The amount in big green numbers remained the same. A numeral one followed by lots of zeros. Ten freakin’ thousand dollars.

      Who would contribute that kind of money to her fledgling catering business? Using her fingers, she expanded the screen to better read the name. Spencer Bohanan! No flipping way.

      She was going to strangle him. No, wait. First she was going to give him a piece of her very angry mind, then strangle him. How dare he? This wasn’t the least bit funny. In fact, it was mean. A terrible, humorless, tasteless joke.

      Not caring about Tia Maria or the new manager/nephew or even her job, she marched over to the table where Spence still sat with her sisters.

      Shoving her phone in his face, she stated, “I’m not amused.”

      He leaned back to put more than two inches between himself and the phone and read the screen. “Wow. That came through fast.”

      “What are you thinking?”

      “I’m contributing to your catering business.” He grinned. “Isn’t that the point of a crowd-funding campaign?”

      Frankie paid no attention to her sisters, who watched slack-jawed as if witnessing an impending catastrophe. “You don’t have ten thousand dollars.”

      “The donation wouldn’t have gone through if I didn’t.”

      Wha... Wait. That was true. Frankie remembered reading the terms and conditions. All donations were guaranteed by credit card or an online payment system. Spence couldn’t have donated a single cent unless he actually had it—or a substantial limit on his credit card.

      “I refuse to let you go into debt simply to prove a point,” she snapped.

      “First off, I won’t go into debt. I have the money, and a fair amount more where that came from. Second, I’m not trying to prove a point. Unless I did.” He winked at her. “In that case—”

      “You’re broke. You’re always broke.” It was another of the reasons Frankie hadn’t told him about the girls. He couldn’t afford the child support payments, and she hated the idea of a long, drawn-out court battle, only to have him default.

      “I’ve had a run of good luck lately,” he said.

      “You rob a bank?”

      “Come on. Give me a little credit. How ’bout I tell you what’s been happening with me over dinner tonight?”

      Frankie’s sisters were literally sitting on the edges of their seats.

      “No.” Dinner sounded too much like a date. “I’ll bring some brisket and ribs to the park. The picnic area. You recall where it is?”

      “I do.”

      Something flashed in his eyes. A memory, perhaps. He had plenty to choose from involving the park and the picnic area and the two of them. What had possessed Frankie to suggest that as a meeting place?

      Mel abruptly straightened. “I’ll watch the g—” She caught herself in the nick of time. “Feed the dogs. I’ll feed your dogs if Sam can’t.”

      “Sam?” Spence’s eyes lit up. “The new sister? Mel and Ronnie mentioned that she’s living with you. I’d love hearing about her at dinner.” He was at it again, teasing her in order to get his way.

      “We’re not having dinner,” she stated. “Consider the food a sample. If you’re going to be an investor in my company, you should taste the wares.”

      Where had that come from? Frankie was clearly losing her mind.

      She quickly jotted her down her phone number on a paper napkin and handed

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