with the old place.”
Sam slapped him on the shoulder. “So I’ll see you there later,” Sam said, and both of them headed back to work.
Seven
Mattie stopped by to see Angel and his mother after work. Sid Weiss had called with the news that Captain Daily had found evidence that cleared the boy of suspicion and the charges against him had been dropped.
Rosa and Angel were grateful for all Mattie’s help, as well as Gabe’s, and seemed thrilled that she and Gabe were hoping to find a way to help Enrique with his work.
Home at last, Mattie fed Tigger and checked his automatic watering bowl, took a nice long shower and began to dress for the evening she had planned. She only had one real vice, which was actually more of a vanity. Her voice. She was a very good singer, and when the mood struck, she could really belt out a tune.
In high school, her friends had tried to convince her to consider a career in music, but Mattie wasn’t interested. And in truth, she probably wasn’t good enough to make it all the way to the top. To her, singing was just for fun. She loved performing once in a while, but she didn’t want to be an entertainer full time.
Still, as often as she could on Wednesday nights, she and her best friend, Tracy Spencer, went down to Club Rio to sing karaoke. It wasn’t the same as singing with a band, but it felt just as good and it was just as much fun.
Mattie particularly liked disco, everything from the Bee Gees’ Saturday Night Fever album to just about any Donna Summer song. She liked Cher, Diana Ross, Tina Turner, pretty much anything hot and fast. It was a sinful addiction, like eating a big, gooey piece of chocolate.
As she stood in front of the mirror, fighting to fasten a dangly rhinestone earring, she heard a familiar rap on the door and hurried into the living room to let her friend in. Tracy was tall and svelte and gorgeous, her straight, blunt-cut blond hair falling around her shoulders, pale bangs covering her forehead.
She gave Mattie a quick hard hug. “See, I’m not even late.”
“No, you’re not!”
Tracy made a brief perusal of the very short, scoop-necked, sparkly silver dress Mattie wore, so completely at odds with her usual business wardrobe. “You look fantastic!”
She had left her auburn hair unbound and let it dry in natural curls that formed a halo around her face and fluffed out around her shoulders.
She grinned at Tracy, who wore a yellow leather miniskirt and matching halter top, both of them in very high spiked heels. “You look pretty great, yourself.”
Tracy grinned back. “We’re going to knock ’em dead tonight.”
“I hope so. I’m definitely in the mood.”
It was the one time Mattie allowed her inner self to surface. When she sang a hot disco song, she wasn’t reserved, career-driven Mattie Baker. She was a sexy femme fatale, a woman so seductive she left a trail of broken hearts wherever she went.
Fortunately, no one but her closest friends knew her secret passion, only a couple of people at the office she trusted, certainly no one in her business circles. Club Rio was the kind of blue-collar place business people rarely frequented.
Which left her completely free to indulge her secret fantasy self.
“Just let me put in my other earring and grab my purse and we’re out of here.”
“I’ll drive,” Tracy offered. “My car’s parked in someone else’s space downstairs so I need to move it anyway.”
Tracy had returned to Dallas a few years after graduating from UCLA. She had a bachelor’s degree in liberal arts, but instead of going for her teaching credential as she had once planned, she had chosen a career in real estate. It suited her outgoing personality, and after a couple of years, she’d started making a good deal of money.
The economy might be in a slump, but after the initial drop, Tracy had continued selling houses. She believed the falling market prices and the low interest rates made real estate one of the best
Sam slapped him on the shoulder. “So I’ll see you there later,” Sam said, and both of them headed back to work.
Seven
Mattie stopped by to see Angel and his mother after work. Sid Weiss had called with the news that Captain Daily had found evidence that cleared the boy of suspicion and the charges against him had been dropped.
Rosa and Angel were grateful for all Mattie’s help, as well as Gabe’s, and seemed thrilled that she and Gabe were hoping to find a way to help Enrique with his work.
Home at last, Mattie fed Tigger and checked his automatic watering bowl, took a nice long shower and began to dress for the evening she had planned. She only had one real vice, which was actually more of a vanity. Her voice. She was a very good singer, and when the mood struck, she could really belt out a tune.
In high school, her friends had tried to convince her to consider a career in music, but Mattie wasn’t interested. And in truth, she probably wasn’t good enough to make it all the way to the top. To her, singing was just for fun. She loved performing once in a while, but she didn’t want to be an entertainer full time.
Still, as often as she could on Wednesday nights, she and her best friend, Tracy Spencer, went down to Club Rio to sing karaoke. It wasn’t the same as singing with a band, but it felt just as good and it was just as much fun.
Mattie particularly liked disco, everything from the Bee Gees’ Saturday Night Fever album to just about any Donna Summer song. She liked Cher, Diana Ross, Tina Turner, pretty much anything hot and fast. It was a sinful addiction, like eating a big, gooey piece of chocolate.
As she stood in front of the mirror, fighting to fasten a dangly rhinestone earring, she heard a familiar rap on the door and hurried into the living room to let her friend in. Tracy was tall and svelte and gorgeous, her straight, blunt-cut blond hair falling around her shoulders, pale bangs covering her forehead.
She gave Mattie a quick hard hug. “See, I’m not even late.”
“No, you’re not!”
Tracy made a brief perusal of the very short, scoop-necked, sparkly silver dress Mattie wore, so completely at odds with her usual business wardrobe. “You look fantastic!”
She had left her auburn hair unbound and let it dry in natural curls that formed a halo around her face and fluffed out around her shoulders.
She grinned at Tracy, who wore a yellow leather miniskirt and matching halter top, both of them in very high spiked heels. “You look pretty great, yourself.”
Tracy grinned back. “We’re going to knock ’em dead tonight.”
“I hope so. I’m definitely in the mood.”
It was the one time Mattie allowed her inner self to surface. When she sang a hot disco song, she wasn’t reserved, career-driven Mattie Baker. She was a sexy femme fatale, a woman so seductive she left a trail of broken hearts wherever she went.
Fortunately, no one but her closest friends knew her secret passion, only a couple of people at the office she trusted, certainly no one in her business circles. Club Rio was the kind of blue-collar place business people rarely frequented.
Which left her completely free to indulge her secret fantasy self.
“Just let me put in my other earring and grab my purse and we’re out of here.”
“I’ll drive,” Tracy offered. “My car’s parked in someone else’s space downstairs so I need to move it anyway.”
Tracy had returned to Dallas a few years after graduating from UCLA. She had a bachelor’s degree in liberal arts, but instead of going for her teaching credential as she had once planned, she had chosen a career in real estate. It suited her outgoing personality, and after a couple of years, she’d started making a good deal of money.
The economy might be in a slump, but after the initial drop, Tracy had continued selling houses. She believed the falling market prices and the low interest rates made real estate one of the best
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