Chapter 12 #2
“Coffee!” Emmy Lou announced. “Hello there, Doobies! So good to see you up so bright and early this morning. What do you think of our celebrity guest, Eloise?”
Eloise licked her thin lips and twisted her hands in her lap. “Mr. Hastings, was that really your fanny in that nude scene?”
“Eloise!” Doobie blanched.
Quinn gulped. He hadn’t seen a Brian Hastings movie in years. He didn’t know the guy had shot a nude-fanny scene. He wished he had known before he’d agreed to impersonate the guy.
“Of course it was him.” Emmy Lou calmly poured coffee from a silver urn into a china teacup. “You think anyone else would have a tush that cute? Here you go, Eloise. Sugar and cream’s on the coffee table there.”
“I’ve always wondered,” Eloise said. She took the coffee but continued to stare at Quinn as if she might ask him to strip down and prove it was his fanny in the scene. “The lighting wasn’t very good. You were mostly in shadows.”
Thank God. Even though he hadn’t been the one naked in front of the cameras and half the free world, he was pretending to be that guy. He hoped there had been lots of shadow.
Doobie turned to his wife. His face had gone from pale to quite pink. “You told me you closed your eyes at that part.”
“I lied, Cuthbert.”
“You know I don’t approve of a married woman seeing another man’s naked... parts.”
Eloise sat up straighter. “And I’ve obeyed you all the years of our marriage, until I found out there would be a nude scene in Rogue’s Reward.
When we saw it at the Lyric Theater I closed my eyes to please you, but I left them open a little slit, like this.
” She demonstrated her peeking technique.
“Then I bought the video,” she added bravely.
“And watched that scene again without me?” Doobie looked scandalized. “Eloise, how could you?”
“Brian Hastings is the only man who could tempt me to break my vow to you, Cuthbert.” Eloise gazed adoringly at Quinn. “Two hundred and six times.”
Doobie made a little choking sound.
“Well, that certainly must be a record!” Jo said brightly. “I don’t know how many people watch the same movie two hundred and six times. You should be very flattered, Brian.”
“Oh, I didn’t watch the whole movie.” Eloise took a dainty sip of her coffee. “Only the nude-fanny scene. I keep the tape permanently rewound to that section.”
Quinn couldn’t look at Doobie. The poor little man seemed about to have a fit, and Quinn couldn’t say he blamed him. He wouldn’t be too happy to discover such a fact about his wife, if he had one. He glanced at Jo. “What did you think of that scene?”
“It was pretty hot, Brian. Some of your better work.” She looked as if she might burst out laughing any minute.
He didn’t think it was so damn funny, and he didn’t much like the idea that she’d been drooling over Hastings’ butt, too. “Did you buy the video?”
She pressed her lips together, as if that was the only way she could keep from laughing. She shook her head.
“I did,” Emmy Lou said. “And since you never watch your own movies, you might like to take a look sometime.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to see that, uh, scene.”
“It’s wonderful,” Eloise said with a sigh. “All the girls think so.’’
“Girls?” Doobie squeaked. “What girls?”
“The Ugly Bug Garden Club. We always close the meeting with a showing of that scene.”
“Oh, my God,” Doobie wailed. “My wife’s peddling porn in the sanctity of our home.”
“Get a grip, Cuthbert,” Emmy Lou said. “It’s one scene, for crying out loud. And it’s not pornography, it’s art.”
“We’re all hoping you’ll do another,” Eloise said to Quinn. “Any chance of that in The Brunette Wore Spurs?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad.” Eloise set down her cup and saucer. “Mr. Hastings, the ladies of the garden club would consider it a great honor if you would—”
“What?” Quinn wasn’t aware he’d backed up until he bumped into a leather wing chair in the corner of the room.
“—speak to our group,” Eloise said. “Goodness, what did you think I was going to ask?”
“Uh, nothing.” Quinn cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
“I’d love to do that, of course.” Not. He couldn’t imagine speaking to a bunch of women who ended every meeting ogling his bare butt.
Or Hastings’ bare butt, which nearly amounted to the same thing.
“But I’ll be pretty busy investigating the area and figuring out.
..” He racked his brain for what a filmmaker might need to know about a location.
“I have to decide where we can plug in our lights.”
Jo turned to him with a puzzled expression.
But he’d hit upon a way to work in something he knew about, which was home improvement, and he decided to go with it.
“Yep, electricity’s a big concern with these things.
I look around at Jo’s ranch, and I like what I see, but I have to ask myself, are there enough outlets?
When you’re filming, you can never have too many outlets. ”
“Or generators,” Jo said, rolling her eyes.
“Well, there’s that option, too,” Quinn said casually. “Personally I like lots of outlets.”
“So I guess the Brian Hastings town festival is out of the question,” Doobie said, sounding relieved.
Jo turned to Doobie. “What Brian Hastings town festival?”
“Dick Cassidy brought it up last night when he was buying rounds of drinks at the Ugly Bug Saloon. I guess he’s pretty set up about getting a part in the movie.
Word got back to the town council, and the mayor asked me to come out this morning and ask about it, considering that I have a close relationship with Jo, here. ”
“Do you?” Quinn asked. From what he’d heard, Doobie could hardly wait to foreclose on the Bar None.
“Absolutely.” Doobie smiled at Jo. “She’s like the daughter I never had.”
Eloise bounced out of her seat. “Cuthbert Doobie, you have a daughter, and she’s given you nine lovely grandchildren. It’s not her fault that none of her husbands have been able to hold a job.”
Quinn decided it was time to stroke old Cuthbert’s ego. “I’ve been thinking about something ever since I walked in here.” He pointed a finger at the skinny banker. “You’re the perfect Pierre.”
Doobie blinked. “Pierre?”
“A French character in the movie. You have that same worldly look, that same sophistication.”
Doobie preened. “Maybe so, but I don’t speak French.”
“No problem. It’s not a speaking role.”
“Then how do we know that he’s sophisticated and worldly if he never says anything?”
“Trust me. The minute you walk in front of the camera, everyone will know the kind of person you are.”
Doobie nodded and looked wise. “I see your point. Then certainly, I’ll do it. How about a dance?”
Quinn’s jaw dropped. “You want to dance with me, Cuthbert?”
“No, no.” Doobie laughed, and his dentures slipped a little.
“I meant we could have a dance, just a simple dance on Saturday night, instead of the town festival. Or say, even better, a small rodeo in the afternoon, followed by the dance. If you could possibly see your way clear to participate, the people of Ugly Bug would be very appreciative.”
Quinn glanced at Jo, and she shrugged, letting him know it was up to him.
A dance sounded relatively harmless. He was a decent dancer.
But a rodeo would expose him as a fraud, for sure.
“You don’t want me to perform in the rodeo,” he said.
“The liability, you know. If I got hurt, the resulting suit would bankrupt the town.”
“Oh! Then of course we don’t want you to be in the rodeo. You can be the guest of honor.”
“All right.”
“Wonderful! Then—”
“Cuthbert, if we hold these events, we have to make a rule,” Emmy Lou said. “Women are not allowed to grab at Brian’s clothes or pinch his tush. No button popping, no pocket ripping. None of that.”
“Certainly not!” Doobie looked offended at the very idea. “Well, then, I guess our mission is accomplished, Eloise. Come along.”
Eloise didn’t move. She stood gazing at Quinn, a dreamy smile on her face. “Save me a dance,” she said.
“Sure.”
“Oh, thank you.” She sighed and clasped her hands together. “I’ll be counting the hours.”
Doobie snorted and took his wife’s arm. “Don’t make such a big deal out of it, Eloise. It’s just a dance.”
“Just a dance? Just a dance? I think not, Cuthbert.” She kept her gaze fastened on Quinn as her husband dragged her to the entry hall.
“Why, dancing with Brian Hastings is more important than winning best garden of the year, more important than giving birth to our darling Primrose, more important than our wedding night. Which reminds me. I know you think you’re a great—”
“Thanks for the coffee!” Doobie called as he hustled his wife out the door.
After they left Jo grinned at him. “You’ve done it again. First Dick, and now that weasel Doobie. Thanks, Quinn.”
“I loved it, Eloise’s tush fetish and all.” Emmy Lou gathered coffee cups.
“Don’t remind me about that part,” Quinn said.
“Oh, she’s harmless,” Emmy Lou said. “But he’s not.
Can you believe he had the nerve to say you were like a daughter to him?
Just last week when you asked for an extension on your loan he said you might as well sell out and go back east, where you belong.
Quinn, you were magnificent.” She smiled at him.
“Brian Hastings couldn’t have done it better.
Well, he might not have spouted all that nonsense about electrical outlets, but otherwise, good job. ” She left the room carrying the tray.
“Doobie really said that to you last week?” Quinn wished he’d been a little rougher on the guy.
“Well, to be fair, I am pretty far behind on my payments.”
“Listen, Jo, I—”
“Nope.” She held up both hands. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Forget I said anything.”
Quinn gazed at her. “If you say so.” He longed to get his hands on her books. Okay, he’d rather get his hands on her, but she’d put the skids on that program. But if he could look over her accounts and have her explain the ranching business to him, he knew he could help.
“Don’t you need to call your office?”
“Guess I do.”
“While you’re doing that, I’ll go down to the barn and check on Clarise and Stud-muffin. See you in a little while, then.”
“Right.” Quinn noticed she hadn’t suggested he use her office phone, probably because she didn’t want him in there, period. So he made his call on the phone in the hallway.
As he was hanging up, Jo came in and hooked her slicker on a peg by the door.
“Everything okay at the barn?” he asked.
“Great.” She looked damp, pink and very kissable. “How’s your office?”
“No problems. What’s next on the schedule?”
Jo shook her damp hair. “It’s still raining. I called the vet before breakfast, and she can’t come out to inseminate Lullabelle and Missy until tomorrow.” She looked at Quinn. “We’re sort of at loose ends today.”
“What do you usually do when it rains like this?”
“Oh, paperwork in my office.”
Exactly. “Jo, don’t be so damned stubborn. Let’s go into your office and you can give me a rundown on your financial situation.”
“Nope, nope, nope.”
Emmy Lou appeared in the doorway with a tape in her hand. “Here’s Rogue’s Revenge anytime you want to take a peek. I have some others, but it sounded like this was the one you were interested in.”
“Hey, we can watch that!” Jo seized the opportunity. “You really should see one of your—I mean, Brian’s—movies and get an idea of his personal style before you show up at the rodeo and dance on Saturday.”
He couldn’t argue with her reasoning. And he’d be dumb to turn down a chance to sit on the sofa with her and watch a movie. “Okay. We can do that.”
She walked into the living room and opened the oak cabinet that housed the television set. “Sit down, sit down. You’re about to be able to see yourself without hordes of screaming women interfering with your viewing enjoyment.”
“I can hardly wait.” He wouldn’t mind one particular woman interfering, he thought as he sat on the sofa.
After shoving the tape into the VCR, she picked up the remote and started toward the sofa.
Okay. How close would she sit?
At the last minute she veered toward a wing chair. “Maybe I’ll sit over here, for good measure.”
“Hey, Emmy Lou’s right in the kitchen. What could happen?”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sat on the sofa, but put a good three feet between them.
The movie started, and Quinn had to admit it was eerie how much Hastings looked like him, except that he seemed completely at home in a Western setting. “He’s a good rider.”
“You’ll be fine with a little more practice. If all you do is attend that rodeo and dance, you might not ever have to demonstrate your riding to anyone.”
He looked at her. “You mean I tortured my privates for nothing?”
She glanced at his crotch, and her cheeks grew pink. Then she looked at the television screen. “Watch the movie, Quinn.”
He’d rather watch her, but he dutifully turned his head toward the TV.
Emmy Lou appeared in the doorway pulling on a raincoat. “The pot roast’s in the oven, and I have to run into town for a few groceries.”
Jo grabbed the remote and hit the pause button. “Want some company?”
“No, thanks. I’m taking the truck and I need the space for the bags. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.
Quinn’s heart began to pound. A couple of hours. He glanced at Jo.
She got up and moved to the chair. “Just to be on the safe side,” she said.
Quinn didn’t think there was any safe side to this situation.