Red Velvet Revenge Page 2

  “Punch it!” Mel ordered.

  Oz revved his engine. Marty checked his seat belt. Mel and Angie braced themselves against the backs of the front seats. The light turned green and Olivia shot out of her lane, turning onto the two-lane on-ramp that led up to the highway.

  Oz stomped on the gas, and the truck lurched forward as if it really wanted to give chase. Then it began to make a horrible grinding noise.

  “I’m giving her all she’s got, Captain!” Oz yelled over the noise in a terrible Scottish accent.

  “All she’s got isn’t good enough!” Angie quoted back to him.

  Marty glowered at the two of them. “Star Trek? You’re quoting Star Trek now?”

  As the former ice cream truck lumbered into the middle of the intersection and Olivia’s sweet pink van was nothing but a memory and a flash of mocking taillights, Oz’s new baby gave a deep, shuddering heave, knocking both Mel and Angie to the floor. It made a deafening BANG. Then it stopped dead.

  Mel and Angie picked themselves up off of the nasty carpet. Cars zipped around them to get to the on-ramp before the light changed. A line of cars formed behind the truck, however, inciting honks and a few one-fingered salutes when drivers unable to get around them missed the light and were forced to wait for the next green.

  “What are they so mad about?” Angie snapped as she and Mel climbed out of the back of the truck. “We’re the ones who broke down.”

  She looked like she was going to charge the middle-aged man in the Mustang, who had honked and flipped the bird at them.

  In an attempt to avoid Angie being carted off to jail, Mel said, “Angie, you’re the lightest. You steer us to the side. Oz, Marty, and I will push.”

  Angie gave the man in the car one more blast of stink eye before she climbed up into the driver’s seat.

  Oz joined Mel and Marty at the back of the van. Mel was about to tell Marty not to strain himself, but as if he knew what she was about to say before she opened her mouth, he held up his hand to stop her.

  “I’m old, not dead,” he said. “I think I can manage not to stroke out on you from a little exertion.”

  “Got to give it to him,” Oz said with a shrug.

  “Fine, but be careful, both of you,” Mel said.

  Marty and Oz exchanged put-out looks, and Mel wondered if this was what the mothers of teenage boys felt like.

  They had to wait for a break in the traffic, and as soon as it was clear, Angie yelled, “Push!”

  It took every ounce of strength Mel possessed to help get the van in motion, and she was pretty sure the only thing more painful would be trying to push out a baby. The van was like a great beached whale being encouraged back into the ocean.

  They were covered in sweat before they’d gone ten feet. The sun beat down on their backs, and Mel could feel her short blond hair become soaked and matted to her head as she pushed. Angie had the van in neutral and managed to crank the steering wheel in a sharp U-turn.

  They crossed two lanes of oncoming traffic, and Angie hit the brakes as they slowed beneath the highway underpass, bringing them to a stop in the shade.

  Mel, Oz, and Marty slumped against the back of the former ice cream truck in relief. Angie popped out of the driver’s side door and took a look at the three of them.

  “Everyone okay?” she asked.

  The collective huffing and puffing kept them from answering, but since no one was supine on the curb, Angie seemed satisfied.

  A large, cream-colored Cadillac Escalade pulled up and parked behind them. The driver’s side door popped open, and out stepped an older gentleman wearing a white straw cowboy hat. Mel suddenly felt like she was in an old Western movie and the good guy was coming to the rescue.

  “‘Don’t say it’s a fine morning or I’ll shoot ya,’” Angie whispered in a low drawl.

  “John Wayne in McLintock!,” Mel whispered back. They exchanged heat-weary high fives.

  “You folks look like you could use a hand,” the man in the hat said.

  Mel would have hugged him, but given that she was beginning to offend herself with the amount of sweat pouring off of her, she refrained.

  “We sure could,” Marty said as he wiped his hand on the side of his leg and held it out to the stranger.

  “Marty Zelaznik.”

  “Slim Hazard, at your service,” he said as he clasped Marty’s hand in return. He was tall, and it wasn’t just the cowboy boots that he wore that made him so. He was wearing a cotton Western-style shirt with an embroidered yoke and jeans that sported a belt buckle as big as Mel’s head.

  “This is Melanie, Angie, and young Oz,” Marty said as he gestured at the rest of them. Mel wasn’t positive but she thought she heard a note of admiration in Marty’s voice. She knew it wasn’t for them, so he had to be impressed by the cowboy in front of them. His next words confirmed it.

  “You wouldn’t be Slim Hazard from Juniper Pass, would you?”

  Slim pushed his hat back on his head and put his hand on the back of his neck, as if he were embarrassed that Marty had heard of him.

  “Yep, I’m afraid that’s me,” he said. “Here, son, let me have a look.”

  Slim ambled over to where Oz crouched, looking under the van to assess the damage from below.

  “Wow, it’s really him.” Marty looked gobsmacked. He glanced at Mel and Angie to see if they were as impressed as he was. When they both shrugged, he frowned. “You two are lacking in your rodeo lore.”

  “Clearly.” Angie wiped the sweat off of her forehead with her forearm. “So who is the bronco buster?”

  “Only one of the greatest cowboys who ever lived,” Marty said. “His family hosts the Juniper Pass Rodeo every year.”

  At Mel’s and Angie’s blank looks, he gave a tsk of disgust.

  “It’s the biggest rodeo in the country!”

  Mel shrugged. Marty looked as if he’d continue, but just then Slim and Oz joined them.

  “Now, don’t you worry,” Slim was saying to Oz. “I’ve seen worse than this. Why, with a little elbow grease, you’ll have her up and running in no time.”

  He gave Oz a solid pat on the back and looked at the group as if seeking back up.

  “Yeah, absolutely, good as new,” Mel said, and Slim smiled at her.

  Oz still looked ill at ease, but less like he was going to throw up. She was pretty sure she heard him mutter some soothing words to the defunct truck. Poor kid. It was a rough break getting wheels, only to lose them on the very first day.

  “Can I offer you folks a lift?” Slim asked. “It’s a mite too hot to be standing out in this heat waiting for a tow truck.”

  “We would love one,” Angie answered for them all. Without waiting for assistance, or maybe afraid that Slim would change his mind, she headed toward the Escalade.

  “Thank you, sir,” Marty said. “You’re being very kind.”

  “Not at all, and call me Slim,” he said. “Come on, youngster. Your van isn’t going anywhere; you may as well let her rest.”

  Oz gave the van a one-armed pat that looked to Mel like a surreptitious hug before he followed them into the Escalade.

  Angie was already buckled into the middle seat and chatting to the petite blonde in the passenger’s seat, when the others climbed in.

  “Everyone, this is Tammy Hazard, Slim’s wife,” Angie said.

  “Hi, y’all,” Tammy said. She turned in her seat and gave them a well-manicured wave.

  Mel’s first impression of Tammy was that she had very big hair. Big and blond, it puffed up on her head like a meringue and then settled on her shoulders in a controlled wave. The next thing she noticed was that Tammy wasn’t as young as she first appeared. She was very well maintained, with just the right amount of makeup, She had a neat figure but she wasn’t skeletally skinny or going to pudge. If Mel had to guess, she’d have put Tammy solidly in her fifties, which she thought complemented Slim nicely, who looked to be somewhere in his sixties.

  “It’s hot enough
to fry an egg out there,” Tammy said. “You poor things. I’m so glad we came by when we did.”

  Both Oz and Marty gave her dazzled smiles. Mel wasn’t sure if it was heat exhaustion or being in the presence of a female who wasn’t dripping her body weight in sweat, but they both looked smitten and climbed into the far back.

  Mel took the seat next to Angie. She felt bad that she was perspiring on the butter soft leather, but unless Slim and Tammy had a towel tucked in the vehicle, there wasn’t much she could do about it.

  She turned back once she was buckled in, and Slim shifted the vehicle into drive. “Now, where can I take you folks?”

  “Could you drop us off at our bakery?” Mel asked. “It’s just down the road a few miles.”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  He pulled out into traffic, and Mel turned to check on Marty and Oz. As they pulled away, Oz heaved a brokenhearted sigh.

  “It’ll be okay, Oz,” Mel said. “We can call a tow truck from the bakery and get it to a garage.”

  He didn’t seem consoled.

  “A garage?” Angie asked. “That thing needs to go to the great junkyard in the sky.”

  “Angie!” Mel hushed her.

  “I can’t afford a garage,” Oz said. “I need someone to fix it on the cheap.”

  Angie studied him over her shoulder. Then she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and made a call.

  “Sal, it’s Angie,” she said. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  There was a pause.

  “No, Sal, I haven’t broken up with Roach yet.”

  She looked at Mel and rolled her eyes. Angie was the youngest and the only girl out of the eight DeLaura children. The brothers did not like her current boyfriend, a drummer in a rock band who went by the name Roach. Literally, every time she talked to any of the brothers, they managed to work her breaking up with her boyfriend into the conversation.

  “Sal, listen,” Angie said. “I have a situation.”

  There was another pause, and Mel could hear Sal’s raised voice.

  “No, not that kind of situation!” Angie snapped. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  There was another pause, and Mel was pretty sure she heard groveling on Sal’s end.

  “Listen, we have a van that’s broken down under the 101 underpass off of Indian School Road,” she said. “Do you think you could have your tow truck come and get it?”

  Angie spun around in her seat and gave Oz a thumbs-up.

  “Do me a favor and have one of your mechanics take a look at it,” Angie said. “We’d like to know how much work needs to be done to make it street legal.”

  Angie continued her chat while Mel leaned forward to give Slim directions through Old Town to the front of the bakery. Slim stopped in one of the many empty parking spots directly in front of Fairy Tale Cupcakes.

  “Is that your bakery?” Tammy asked.

  “It is,” Mel said. She knew she sounded proud, and she couldn’t help it. She loved her shop right down to the last paper cupcake liner. “Come on in, and I’ll give you a tour and some cupcakes.”

  “Did you say cupcakes?” Slim hopped out of the driver’s side and hustled around to open the door for his wife.

  Tammy grinned. “Slim has a terrible sweet tooth.”

  “Well, he has come to the right place,” Mel said.

  Slim opened both of their doors, and they all climbed out. Mel led the way into the bakery to find Tate Harper, the financial backer of their baking venture, sitting in one of the booths.

  He rose at the sight of them and took a step closer to Mel to hug her, but then stopped with a frown.

  “You’re all wet,” he said. “And the place was locked up and no one was here when I arrived. What happened?”

  “First, introductions,” Mel said. “Slim and Tammy Hazard, this is our business partner, Tate Harper.”

  They all shook, and Mel said, “Marty, why don’t you show Slim and Tammy the cupcakes on display and load them up with a six-pack of their choice.”

  “Oh, no, we couldn’t,” Tammy protested.

  Mel shook her head. “I insist. You saved us all from heatstroke. It’s the least we can do.”

  “You heard her, darlin’, she insists,” Slim said, and he winked at Mel. He looked delighted and rubbed his hands together as he took in the display case. Mel suspected Tammy had not undersold his love of sweets.

  “All right. Bye.” Angie ended her call.

  “Sal is going to collect the van?” Mel asked.

  “And he’s going to have a look at it,” she said.

  “What van?” Tate asked.

  “My van,” Oz said, and he slumped into one of the padded booths by the window.

  “You have a van?” Tate asked.

  “Had a van,” Mel said.

  “Yeah, until it went boom in a drag race against Olivia,” Angie added.

  “Boom?” Tate asked faintly.

  “Eh, more like bang,” Mel said.

  “Did Olivia go bang?” Tate asked. He was turning pale and looked like he needed to sit.

  “No, she went—” Angie was about to replicate Olivia’s obscene hand gesture, but Mel smacked her hand down.

  “He gets the idea,” she said.

  Angie shrugged.

  “Is there anything else I should know about?” Tate asked. Mel had known Tate since they were twelve years old. He was tugging on his left ear, something he always did when he was feeling stressed.

  “Let go of your ear, Tate,” she said. “Everything is cool.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Slim said.

  Mel spun around to see Slim and Marty shaking hands. Marty still had the worshipful gaze of an adolescent boy in his eyes, and Mel realized he was in the throes of a full-on man crush.

  “Oh, this is wonderful,” Tammy said. “Selling cupcakes at our rodeo is just the kind of hip twist it needs.”

  “Uh…what was that?” Mel asked.

  “Isn’t it great?” Marty asked. He was so happy even his bald head was glowing. “We’re going to sell cupcakes at the Juniper Pass Rodeo.”

  Three

  Mel, Angie, and Tate stared at Marty as if he’d suddenly overdosed on his blood pressure medication.

  “Marty, Juniper Pass is way up north,” Angie said. “We’re talking hours away. How are we supposed to sell cupcakes up there?”

  “The truck,” Marty said. He looked to Oz for backup. “It’ll be a great dry run for our bakery on wheels.”

  Oz perked up from where he’d been slouching. His eyes lit up and he looked at Angie.

  “When do you think you’ll hear from Sal?” he asked.

  “Probably in a couple of hours,” she said.

  Mel looked at Slim and Tammy, who were watching the exchange in bemusement. As the chief baker and the person who lived above the bakery, Mel was supposed to be in charge of the business. But as she looked at her crew, she couldn’t help but note that it looked as if the lunatics were running the asylum.

  She knew it was time to get control of the situation or invest in a wholesale order of straitjackets.

  “Slim, the rodeo sounds like so much fun,” she said. “But other than deliveries, we’ve never taken cupcakes on the road before.”

  “Well, there’s no time like the present,” he said cheerfully. “Your business looks as dried up as a grape in the sun.”

  Marty was nodding like a bobblehead doll, and Mel glared at him.

  “And it would be good for us, too,” Tammy said. “The rodeo could use a contemporary punch, and what is more happening than cupcakes?”

  “Apparently, whoopie pies are the pastry of the future,” Tate said.

  Angie looked like she wanted to kick him. “Well, that’s just stupid.”

  He shrugged. “I just report the trends. I don’t make them up.”

  Mel felt her stomach twist with anxiety. She loved her cupcake bakery. Yes, she made special-order cakes, too, but she really just loved the compact size a
nd perfection of the cupcake. She didn’t want to turn Fairy Tale Cupcakes into Fairy Tale Whoopie Pies.

  “Well, the invite is wide-open,” Slim said. “The rodeo is in two weeks. If you folks want in, you just give me a holler and I’ll make room for you.”

  “Oh, we want in,” Marty said.

  “Marty!” Mel and Angie said at the same time. “We need to discuss this.”

  Marty stuck out his lower lip in a full-on pout, and Mel frowned at him.

  “That’s not going to work,” she said.

  He huffed and slouched into the booth across from Oz.

  Mel rolled her eyes. Honestly, why was it that all of the men in her life had the emotional maturity of twelve-year-olds?

  Tammy checked the delicate gold watch encrusted with diamonds on her wrist. “Oh, Slim, we have to get going. We have that meeting with the Chamber of Commerce.”

  “Oh, right,” he said. He smiled at the others. “She keeps me on task. I don’t think I could function without her.”

  Tammy gave him an adoring smile, and Mel decided that the Hazards were one of the nicest couples she’d ever met.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Mel said. “You really saved our bacon.”

  Slim grinned. “Are you kidding? For cupcakes, I’d have driven you all the way down to Tucson.”

  They left with a wave, and Mel realized they had been the only visitors in the bakery all day. The afternoon stretched out before her, and she thought of the stack of bills sitting on the desk in her office.

  “Oh, Mel,” Slim called to her from the door. “Just so you know, the rodeo draws about twenty-five thousand visitors.”

  The door shut behind him with a thud that masked the sound of Mel’s jaw hitting the black-and-white tile floor.

  Twenty-five thousand?

  She spun around to face the others, and she was pretty sure she had dollar signs shining in her eyes.

  “Angie, get Sal on the phone. We need an update on the van, stat.”

  Mel spent the afternoon planning for the cupcakepalooza that would be the rodeo if they could manage to pull it off. Marty was giddy, Oz was just happy to have his van being worked on, Tate was dubious, and Angie was oddly quiet.

  “So, this whole plan is dependent upon Oz’s van being functional,” Tate said.