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Wise woman. Unfortunately, my promise to Josie kept me from performing such a maneuver…at least, for now. “I wish it were that simple,” I replied.
A shake of her head, and Hazel lifted her glass of chardonnay so she could take another sip. “It is. You can just tell Josie that this sort of thing isn’t for you and that she’ll have to go ask the Chamber to put more funds into attracting tourists. Isn’t that their job, anyway?”
Supposedly. Globe had a teeny Chamber of Commerce with about twenty members. The organization was presided over by Miriam Jacobsen, a dragon lady in her late fifties who made Josie look like, well, a pussycat. I knew the Chamber coordinated with the City Council on events like the Fourth of July carnival and a Festival of Lights celebration that was held in December, close to Christmas but not too close, but I honestly didn’t know what else they actually did. It wasn’t as though Globe was exactly swimming in tourists.
“I guess so,” I responded. My glass of chardonnay was almost empty, but I thought it would be wise to have a couple of grapes and a bite of cheese off the plate Hazel had set out for us before I poured myself any more wine. “Except I can’t really see myself calling up Miriam and telling her the Chamber’s dropped the ball when it comes to promoting tourism in Globe.”
Those wry words made Hazel laugh outright. “She is pretty scary, isn’t she? I remember when she came by the house not long after I moved here and had some paintings for sale in Sundowner Gallery. She knocked on the door and introduced herself, then told me I would be creating the art for next year’s Chamber brochure.”
“And did you?” I asked. After brushing some cracker crumbs off my fingers, I reached for the bottle of chardonnay in its ceramic chiller and poured myself a half glass.
“Of course I did,” Hazel said. It seemed that recollection on its own was enough to require some fortification, because she took the bottle of wine from me once I was done pouring and topped off her own glass. “Can you imagine saying no to Miriam Jacobsen?”
I chuckled. “Not really.”
For a moment, we were both silent as we sipped our wine. Then Hazel shot me a sideways glance. “I heard through the grapevine that Chuck Langdon wants to ask you out.”
Oh, boy. What was this, junior high? But then I reflected that the gossip channels in a small town like Globe did appear to be remarkably similar to the circuitous routes information had traveled back when I was in eighth grade at Millikan Junior High in Sherman Oaks.
“Well, if he does, he can come and ask me himself,” I said after taking another swallow of chardonnay. “He’s a big boy — he should be able to manage that without any help.”
Hazel’s greenish-hued eyes — a perfect reflection of her name — peered at me in some curiosity. “If he did, would you say yes?”
Good question. Chuck Langdon looked exactly like the sort of guy Central Casting would put in the role of small-town hottie. He had light brown hair, blue eyes, and the sort of square jaw not seen since the heyday of 1950s cowboy shows on TV.
Problem was, while I could appreciate his appeal on an intellectual level, I knew he wasn’t my type. No, I leaned toward tall, dark, and freaking gorgeous Native American police chiefs.
Even if the aforesaid freaking gorgeous police chief had roundly dumped me on my ass.
“I don’t know,” I said after a long pause, during which Hazel continued to watch me closely. “At least I know he’s not a fortune hunter.”
Chuck owned a ranch outside town. Supposedly, he had several hundred head of cattle and did very well for himself. His big Chevy truck was very new — or at least, I guessed it was new. It was certainly shiny enough. Otherwise, he didn’t seem to indulge in the outward trappings of wealth; the cowboy boots he always had on looked as though he’d been wearing them for the past ten years, his jeans were faded, and he didn’t wear a single ring or watch to flaunt his wealth.
“Maybe,” Hazel allowed. “Although I heard his ex-wife took him for a lot of money.”
This revelation made me raise an eyebrow. “He doesn’t look old enough to have an ex-wife.”
She shrugged. “He’s thirty-three. I guess they were high school sweethearts, and she dumped him and took off with a plastic surgeon from Scottsdale.”
Who I assumed probably made more money than a rancher in Globe. A stab of pity went through me, even though the few times I’d seen Chuck around town, he’d looked relaxed and content, not like someone whose ex had taken him for everything he owned.
Rather than respond directly to Hazel’s comment, I said, “It’s truly amazing what an encyclopedic knowledge you have of everyone in this town.”
That remark got me another laugh. “What else is there to do in Globe except snoop into other people’s lives? Not that much ‘snooping’ is really involved. Josie shares pretty much everyone’s business, and if she’s not around to do it, there are plenty of volunteers to take up the slack.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t gone out with Chuck,” I said next, then sipped some more chardonnay. “You’ve been here a lot longer than I have, and you’re around the same age.”
Her smile slipped a little, and right then, I glimpsed a spike in her aura, a shimmer of pale red at odds with its normal serene blue. No, I didn’t see auras all the time — they came and went on their own schedule, as far as I’d been able to tell — but they generally seemed to pop up the most often when someone was experiencing a strong emotion.
So…Hazel had kind of a thing for Chuck Langdon.
I resolved right then and there not to go out with him, even if he asked. My first loyalty was to Hazel, since we’d been friends almost from the moment I came to town. Anyway, while I supposed I might have a sort of exotic appeal, thanks to my gypsyish clothes and dark prettiness, Hazel was just as attractive in her own way, with the sort of friendly, breezy, girl-next-door looks I’d always secretly envied.
“I guess I’m just not on his radar,” she said. “Which is fine. I’m not much into dating anyway.”
“You’ve never gone out with anyone the whole time you’ve lived here?” I asked. After all, she’d lived in Globe for more than seven years. Although I was suffering through my own personal dry spell, I still couldn’t quite imagine going that long without any kind of romance in my life.
She shook her head. “No one from around here. I had kind of a long-distance thing going with a guy in Chandler for a while. And I know — an hour away isn’t really that long-distance. But still, the logistics started to get kind of rough, and then he started pressuring me to move in with him….” The words trailed off, and she reached for a grape. Before she popped it in her mouth, she added, “I know Globe is kind of a Podunk town, but it’s my town now, and I didn’t want to leave. Especially for the Phoenix suburbs.”
