Razzmatazz-DDL Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  A note from Patricia

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Thank You

  Sneak Peek

  About Patricia

  Other Books by Patricia Burroughs

  Book View Café Edition

  December 17, 2013

  ISBN: 978-1-61138-349-2

  Copyright © 1988 Patricia Burroughs

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form.

  First published by Harlequin Silhouette New York. This is a work of fiction.

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously.

  Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination,

  and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover designed by MJ Butler

  www.bookviewcafe.com

  To Pamela Renner

  For professionalism beyond the call of duty

  For friendship beyond measure

  Meet Kennie Sue Ledbetter, spunky and street smart—as long as the streets are in Tahoka Springs, Texas.

  Meet Alexander Carruthers III, who has never known anyone like Kennie Sue. But one look—one hunch—is all it takes for him to want to know her better.

  Did I mention that I loved this book? It was a RITA Finalist for Best Short Contemporary Romance, and was part of a new wave of humor in the romance genre.

  So take a trip with me back to the late 1980s and let Kennie Sue and Alex show you how it was, once upon a time…

  When slot machines still had arms to pull, casinos still handed out free drinks, and the world was just discovering parachute pants.

  [Okay let’s forget about parachute pants.]

  [There are no parachute pants in this book.]

  [Pinky-swear!]

  I hope you enjoy the ride!

  Happy reading—

  Pooks

  PS Let me know what you think about this story, and/or sign up for my newsletter!

  CHAPTER ONE

  “YOU LOOK LIKE you’ve lost the world....”

  Kennie Sue Ledbetter looked up to the source of that velvety male voice and met the most sympathetic brown eyes she’d encountered in her twenty-four years.

  For a few moments she forgot the distressing chain of events that had landed her in her current dilemma. The airport’s bustling crowd of passengers hurrying to catch their return flights after a weekend of glamour and gambling in Reno, Nevada, blurred into soft focus behind the elegant man standing before her. His hair was ebony, his teeth white and perfect against an equally perfect tan, and his rangy, athletic body was clad in—gracious!—a tuxedo. Aware that he expected a response, she choked out, “I beg your pardon?”

  The stranger’s concerned expression transformed into a brilliant smile as he dropped into the molded plastic seat beside her. “I beg your pardon?” he repeated, gently mimicking her soft drawl. He motioned to another tuxedo-clad man, who was nearing the gate. The tall blond strode toward them. “Chris, I do believe we’ve found us a sweet little ol’ Southern belle.”

  “Isn’t she stunning?” Chris, the blond, peered down at her as if she were some inanimate object in a storefront display.

  “I am not,” she asserted quickly, blushing. “I mean, I’m not Southern. I’m Texan and proud of it.”

  “Aren’t you all?” Chris asked.

  “And I’m not...not....” She swallowed uncomfortably.

  “Stunning? No, she’s right, Chris,” the first man agreed, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Not a stunning bone in her body, I’m afraid.”

  “Alex, must you be so rude? Of course she’s stunning—not to mention delightful.”

  “Who are you?” Kennie glared at them both.

  “I’m an incurable flirt, that’s what I am,” the blond responded genially. “Christopher Abbott, at your service.” He extended his hand, which Kennie pointedly stared at without responding. It was a smooth, strong hand. She was certain its strength was the pampered kind, imparted by hours of tennis or racquetball but not accustomed to hard work. His class ring flashed in front of her as he waited for her to respond, and Kennie stifled a groan. Yale. She was pretty sure it had to be the university and not the lock.

  An Ivy Leaguer, of all things.

  And the well-worn signet ring on his little finger suggested generations of equally blond, privileged Abbotts contributing to the arrogance of this one.

  Just her luck, to meet a couple of wealthy Eastern playboys who were killing time between soirees. Kennie stared icily at him until he withdrew his hand with a shrug. Almost as an afterthought, he nodded toward his companion. “And this is Alex Carruthers.”

  Kennie met Alex’s amused gaze, and for one melting moment she stopped breathing. He was gorgeous. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her composure, and finally forced a strained “How do you do.”

  “I repeat,” he said softly. “You look like you’ve lost the world.”

  Kennie stiffened against the blue-cushioned seat back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He shook his head. “Those sad green eyes, the way you nibble your lower lip....”

  She automatically licked her lip and found it slightly raw and sore.

  “You look like someone who’s lost more than she could afford to lose.”

  She bristled. “You mean, you think that I—that I gambled?”

  “And lost.”

  “Why, I never did such a thing! And if I had, I wouldn’t be fool enough to gamble away my last penny.” Kennie stood abruptly. He, too, rose, his face inches from hers, and Kennie found her lips level with his jutting chin. Tall, dark and gorgeous—just her luck. She raised her face to his. “I don’t know what you want, but if y’all don’t leave me alone, I’m gonna call the police!”

  “Did you hear that?” Chris beamed. “The poe-leese. How charming!”

  “And stop making fun of the way I talk.”

  They stared at her in shocked innocence—or was it mocked? she wondered.

  “Making fun?” Alex said.

  Feeling his gaze sweep from her curly blond topknot, down her yellow shirtwaist, she folded her arms in an effort to shield her body from his assessment.

  He smiled when he noticed the fuchsia toenails peeking from her high-heeled sandals. “Why would we ever make fun of someone so utterly delightful?”

  “Look, Mr. Abbott—”

  “Carruthers, but please, call me Alex.”

  “You can call me anything.” The blond winked. “I promise, I’ll answer.”

  Kennie clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt. “You’re missing the point, gentlemen,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “I don’t care who you are. I don’t know why you’re bothering me in the first place, but if you don’t—”

  “You have a point, you know.” Chris spun on a shiny, black heel and faced Alex. “Now that she mentions it, I don’t even remember why we’re bothering the poor girl.”

  “Of course you do,” Alex said impatiently. “We were walking by, arguing about the blasted slot machines....”

  “Yes, and you spotted her sitting there, looking so helpless and alone....”

  “I beg your pardon,” Kennie interjected firmly, “I’m not
helpless!”

  Chris smiled apologetically. “My friend merely wished to offer his assistance, and I knew it was fruitless to try to dissuade him, my dear girl, because he’s a sucker for lost children, sick puppies, and—” Chris shrugged poetically “—damsels in distress.”

  “And I am none of the above,” Kennie said, wagging a slender finger with as much bluster as she could manage. “So you can go back to your slot machines.” She made a sweeping gesture from Chris to the bank of one-armed bandits lining the wall, then turned her frustration on his raven-haired companion. “And you can go adopt a cat, but just leave me out of it.”

  “She has spunk, too,” the tall blond remarked, then pulled a fistful of coins from his pocket and strolled toward the slot machines to waste them, Kennie Sue noted with disapproval.

  “I never doubted it for a minute.” Alex flashed her a dazzling smile.

  “What do you want from me?” Kennie demanded, her nerves at the snapping point.

  “Why, I don’t want anything from you,” Alex soothed her, “except the assurance that you’re not in any kind of trouble.” His features softened into a smile. “You aren’t, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I’m not.” Kennie massaged her neck wearily. She was so tired. Too tired to play ridiculous cat-and-mouse games with two gadabouts. A voice blaring above them announced a flight to Dallas-Fort Worth.

  “Is that your flight?” Alex asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  All around them, people gathered carry-on luggage and prepared to board.

  He eyed the ticket jutting from the pocket of her dress, and his brows met in a frown. “Budget Express Airlines?” He plucked it out and examined it, then groaned. “Odessa to Dallas to Newark to San Francisco to Reno? Wasn’t there a more direct flight, er...Ms. K. Ledbetter?”

  “It’s not a sin to fly a budget airline.” Kennie snatched the ticket from his meddling fingers. “I appreciate your concern,” she hissed, “but as you can see, I’m just fine. Tired, but fine.”

  “Then why don’t I believe you?”

  Kennie stared at the hard, lean angles of his face, his probing eyes. Because it’s not the truth, she responded silently, feeling as if he were reading her mind, reading her life’s story. Because I find myself wanting to tell it to you, and I don’t understand why.

  “What does the K stand for?”

  She looked up, startled. He indicated the airline ticket, and she sighed. “Kennie.”

  “Kennie. What a lovely name.”

  It certainly was...the way he said it.

  Gently, Alex touched her elbow. “Why don’t you come tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “No, I really couldn’t,” she insisted even as she allowed him to reseat her across from the bug-eyed “RODNEY DANGERFIELD Appearing Nightly at HARRAH’S” poster that had been mocking her for hours. “I’ll be fine once I get on my flight.”

  “Just exactly what time is your flight?” he asked as he sat down beside her.

  “Eight o’clock.”

  He frowned at his watch. “You don’t mean....”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “But that’s almost eleven hours away.” He leaned toward her.

  “I am aware of that fact, Mr.—I’m sorry—I’m terrible with names.”

  “Alex.”

  “Alex,” she said, the name unexpectedly soothing on her lips. Her breath caught someplace in her chest where it was doing her absolutely no good. You’ve got to get control of yourself, girl. It’s been a long day, but that’s no excuse.

  She leaned her head back against the wall with a groan. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

  “I know exactly how you feel....”

  She could hear the wry tone in his voice without looking to see his half smile. “And to think,” she sighed, “this morning I was in Odessa, ready for a marvelous vacation in Reno—oh, brother. When will I ever learn?”

  “This morning?” Alex gave her a stern look. “People don’t fly into Reno in the morning and leave the same night without being in some kind of trouble.”

  “No, not trouble, not really.” She straightened in the chair. “I don’t have anywhere to stay, so I’m going back home.”

  “That’s ridiculous. This town’s practically empty on Sunday night. You could get a room like that.” Alex punctuated his remark with a crisp snap of his fingers.

  Kennie noticed they were supple and bare of rings. Void of adornment, his hands seemed stronger, more masculine, than his friend’s, as if his self-confidence transcended the need to advertise his privileged background. Nevertheless, he didn’t seem to have any clearer concept than Chris did of the way the other half lived.

  She raised her chin higher. “Maybe you could get a room like that.” She snapped her fingers, the fuchsia-glazed nails sparkling with reflected light. “But rooms aren’t that easy to come by if you don’t have the money to pay for them.”

  Alex cocked his head in confusion. “You came here without money for a hotel?”

  “I won a contest, an all-expense-paid trip.” Kennie was unable to keep the acid out of her voice.

  “But?”

  “The MGM Grand has never heard of Honest Dub’s Used Cars or their contest.”

  Alex looked confused. “Honest Dub?”

  Kennie gave a short laugh. “The only car dealer in Tahoka Springs, Texas. I had the dubious honor of winning first prize at his fourteenth-anniversary Sell-abration, which was my choice between any car on the lot or three nights in fabulous Reno, Nevada.”

  “It wouldn’t take much of a car to be worth more than a few days in Reno,” Alex remarked. “Especially when you’re flying Budget Express.”

  “You haven’t seen Dub Callahan’s used-car lot.”

  “So Honest Dub wasn’t so honest after all....”

  Kennie shrugged. “I can’t believe Dub cheated me on purpose, but apparently he made the arrangements through a fly-by-night travel agency that somehow managed to botch things up.” She twisted her lips in sardonic amusement. “Though why I’m surprised, I’ll never know. It’s typical of my luck.”

  “Ah...luck.” Alex nodded sagely. “A tricky thing at best. And you’ve been here all day waiting for a flight back to Texas?”

  “Since two this afternoon.” She slid her glance over the crumpled Styrofoam coffee cups and empty potato-chip bags piled on an adjacent table.

  “Look,” Alex insisted, “why don’t you let me take care of this? I can have you on the next direct flight to Texas, and none of this layover-in-Newark nonsense. Or, better yet, Chris and I could drop you off on our way to Atlanta. I’m sure his pilot could schedule a brief layover in Paducah...Springs?”

  “Absolutely not.” Kennie blushed, embarrassed by how many humiliating details she’d already spilled out against her better judgment.

  Alex studied her. “You mean you haven’t seen a thing of Reno? Shows? Casinos? Anything?”

  She couldn’t restrain a weary laugh. “I saw the lobby of the MGM Grand. I can tell you one thing—it’s nothing like Western Bob’s Motel back home.”

  “I can only imagine.” Alex smirked.

  “In a way, even though it’s been a disaster,” Kennie went on, relaxing a little, “this has been kind of exciting. I mean, I’d never flown before. And I like to watch all the people. You can tell so much just by the way they act waiting for their planes: which ones came for a little fun and surprised themselves by winning, which ones are high rollers, and a few who obviously lost way too much.” She stopped suddenly, glancing at his face.

  Alex angled his body toward her and propped his elbow on the back of his chair. Resting his chin on his fist, he leaned closer and smiled. “Then surely you understand why I had to stop and see if you needed help.”

  “I suppose so,” she hedged. “But as I’ve told you, everything’s quite all right.”

  Alex snorted in disagreement. “You call this—flying into Reno expecting a big vacation, and leav
ing before spending one night on the town—all right?”

  Kennie shrugged. “If this is the worst thing that ever happens to me, I’ll have led an easy life.”

  “Well,” Alex countered smoothly, his eyes taking on a devious gleam. “I refuse to accept that attitude. The least you deserve is dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  He grinned. “And maybe a little dancing.”

  Kennie eyed him suspiciously. Charming and thoughtful he might be, and evidently wealthy, to boot. But a stranger, still. “No, it’s really nice of you to ask, but I couldn’t possibly—”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  His direct statement caught her too off guard for her to soften the truth. “You’re darn right I don’t.”

  “But why?” Alex spread his arms. “Do I look nefarious?”

  “No,” she said, then added firmly, “but neither did Ted Bundy.”

  He laughed. “I see your point. Unfortunately, I have no character witnesses readily available.” He cast a regretful look about the area and spotted his friend, who was still playing the slot machines. “Except, of course, for Chris, and I don’t suppose you’d accept his opinion of me.”

  Kennie smiled in spite of herself. “No, I don’t suppose I would.”

  Eyes twinkling, Alex reached inside his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a flat black case. “Perhaps some of my canine friends can provide me with references.”

  Kennie took the case from him and popped open the lid. A bronze medallion lay nestled in black velvet. Circling the edge was an inscription: Friends of Man’s Best Friend. Alexander W. Carruthers—Friend of the Year was centered beneath an embossed terrier’s head. She returned it to him. “Oh yeah? And this proves exactly what?”

  “That’s what brought me to Reno, to receive this award.”

  “So. Dogs like you.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Dogs like everybody.”

  “You’re right. You have no reason to trust me, or even the dogs. It was really only dinner I’m offering, but I certainly understand your reluctance.