Fast & Loose by Elizabeth Bevarly (the giving tree read aloud .txt) 📕

told her with a huge grin. “And then to the Triple Crown. There’s nothing—nothing—that can stop us now.”

OKAY, SO THERE WAS ONE THING THAT MIGHT STOP them, Cole was forced to acknowledge later that night. Or, at the very least, stop him.

“What do you mean there are no rooms left in Louisville?” he cried into the telephone as he poured himself a second celebratory brandy. “It’s a big city. There must be a lot of hotels.”

He heard his travel agent, Melissa, sigh on the other end of the line. Although her agency had closed two hours ago, he’d called her on her cell phone and dragged her out of a wedding reception to make his travel arrangements for his trip to Louisville at the end of the month. Hey, he threw a lot of business Melissa’s way, and she’d told him herself to call her anytime he needed her services. And hell, she had two other sisters who’d be getting married someday. It wasn’t like this was her only chance to be a maid of honor.

“There are indeed a lot of hotels in Louisville, Cole,” she told him, the statement punctuated by what sounded like the ruffle of some stiff fabric. “Hang on a minute,” she added. “I have to shift the phone to my other ear on account of there’s this big-ass bow on my shoulder that’s about to put my eye out. Yeah, sure I can wear this piece of crap dress again someday. Hah.” He smiled as he waited for Melissa’s voice again. “There, that’s better. But there are also a lot of out-of-town visitors in Louisville. Derby is the biggest time of the year for travel to that city. I’m telling you, there are no rooms left. Nothing. Nada. Nil. El Zippo.”

“What’s Susannah doing for lodging?” he asked, knowing Melissa handled her travel account, too.

“She’s staying with some friends of hers in Shelbyville. And their son in Lexington is going to share his apartment with Silk Purse’s exercise boy. But Susannah had to call in a couple of favors even for that.”

Cole blew out an exasperated breath. “Can’t you find a hotel for me in Lexington?” he asked. “That wouldn’t be so bad. It’s only what? An hour or so away?”

“Lexington is also full up.”

“Frankfort?”

“Full.”

“Southern Indiana?”

“Full.”

“How about—”

“Cole,” Melissa interrupted, “there are no rooms within two hours of Louisville. You should know better than anyone how important the Kentucky Derby is to the Thoroughbred industry. People make hotel reservations a year in advance for that. I even tried the fleabag motels. I’m telling you, there is nothing left, hotel-wise.”

Something in her voice made it sound as if all were not lost. “Hotel-wise,” Cole repeated, hopefully. “You say that as if there are alternatives to hotels. What? Like could I get a condo or something? That’d be fine.”

“There are no condos to be had, either,” Melissa told him. “But,” she added, just as he was opening his mouth to say more, “I can get you a house.”

“A house?” he repeated, having never considered such a possibility. Now that he did, however, he kind of liked the idea. There would be more privacy in a house. More freedom. More room to stretch out. Of course, most furnished rental houses sucked when it came to decor, but, hell, he wouldn’t be there all that often. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t lived in dumps before. Years ago, granted, but he didn’t mind slumming for a couple of weeks.

“Yeah, a house,” Melissa said. “Evidently a lot of the locals who don’t care about the Kentucky Derby—”

Don’t care about the Kentucky Derby? Cole thought incredulously. How could a person not care about the Kentucky Derby? Especially someone who lived in the same city where it took place every year? That was just…wrong.

“—will clear out of their houses,” Melissa continued, “and rent them out to people who can’t find hotel rooms or who just want the comfort of a house instead. A few of the houses that go up for grabs are pretty nice, too. Six and seven bedrooms, some of them. Stately old manors. Or new McMansions in gated communities. With country club memberships. Access to pools and golf courses. We’re talking massive luxury for some of these places.”

Cole perked up considerably. Now that was the way to spend time at the Derby.

“Unfortunately, those are all gone,” Melissa said.

Of course.

“Besides,” she continued, “the houses that go up for grabs are only available for the two or three days surrounding the race, and I know you and Susannah are planning to be in Louisville for a couple of weeks. So I did some calling around after you called me, and I found a guy who specializes in Derby rentals. He said he could guarantee me a house for the two weeks preceding the race in an area called the Highlands, which, according to him, is a very nice neighborhood, parts of which are very upscale. And lucky for you, Mr. Real-Men-Don’t-Cook, he said there are lots of restaurants within walking distance of just about every street.”

“Walking distance,” Cole repeated distastefully. She called that lucky? Nobody in southern California ever walked anywhere. That was even more wrong than not wanting to be in Louisville during the Kentucky Derby.

“Anyway, I’ve got the house on hold if you want it,” Melissa said, “and I think you should grab it. I sincerely doubt you’re going to find anything else. Certainly not for two weeks. You really came down to the wire on this, Cole.”

“Very funny,” he replied, though he had to admit that the racing metaphor was apt. He really should have booked a hotel the minute he realized Silk Purse had even a tiny chance of winning Santa Anita. He just hadn’t wanted to jinx it, that was all. Booking a room before having the win in their pocket had just seemed like the perfect way to ensure Silk didn’t win.

“I’ll take it,” he said.

“Don’t you want to know how much it’s going to cost or