Silver Sparks by Starr Ambrose

still hanging out at the Alpine Sky at night?”
    “As long as Rafe’s partying there, they are. But he doesn’t always stay at the Alpine Sky. The production company provides a suite for him, but I hear sometimes he stays at his family’s estate if he wants privacy.”
    From what she’d seen, that wouldn’t be very often. Rafe enjoyed the limelight too much to hide out at Mom and Dad’s, no matter how big their place was. And if he wanted to put a negative spin on her part in the incident in the bar, he’d have to be out where the press could find him. “Could you give me a call if the reporters show up later tonight?”
    Zoe nodded, but didn’t look enthusiastic. “Don’t you think you should talk to Cal about it first? He seemed to know a lot about Rafe.”
    “No.” Definitely not. Cal would advise caution and restraint, and nothing ever got done that way. “This isn’t about Cal, it’s about me, and our family’s reputation.”
    “It’s just that he seemed pretty smart.”
    “You mean he sounded like he wouldn’t do something reckless and impulsive.”
    Zoe nodded, unabashed. “That, too.”
    Maggie stood, a hint that she was done talking. “I’m not impulsive, I’m decisive. Cal would probably think about it for a week, then do the same thing.”
    Zoe shrugged as she and Sophie got up to leave. “I hope you’re right.”
    “I am. Call me later.”
    “I will.” Zoe followed Sophie to the door, then turned with a wry smile. “Something tells me you’re going to hear from Cal tomorrow.”
    She was probably right. The man was a big buttinski. Well, too bad. He’d just have to accept that she had her own score to settle with Rafael De Luca, and it had nothing to do with him.
    The Backstreet Bar on the edge of Barringer’s Pass was smaller and darker than The Aerie, and the clientele more rowdy, even on a Monday night. Rafe was obviously in the mood for rowdy. He was in the thick of the noisy group that sporadically burst into roars of approval as one more person downed a shot.
    Cal didn’t have to duck reporters at the bar—the reporters were with Rafe, cheering and drinking along with the others. He nursed his beer at the bar, keeping his alcohol consumption low. When Rafe moved on he needed to be able to follow, and only one of them had a chauffeured car waiting outside.
    Another cheer from Rafe’s group drowned out the background rock music. When it died into hysterical giggles, the old man next to Cal sent the group a disgusted glance. “Damn celebrities. They should stick to the resorts and let the real residents have a beer in peace.”
    Cal gave an amused grunt. “I’m with you.” Although, as long as he was trailing Rafe, he preferred these small local dives to the generic glitz of the resort nightclubs. Where else could you still find Bruce Springsteen on the jukebox and Invaders from Mars on a pinball machine?
    “Never seen you here before,” the man said.
    “Never been before.” The guy looked a little more distant, and maybe a little offended. Cal felt obligated to add, “But it’s a nice place.”
    “Nicer without the likes of him. I been comin’ here for near forty years, and that one right there and his friends, they been ruinin’ it the last few years.”
    “But you still come here.”
    A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Owner’s a friend of mine. He cuts me a deal on my tab.”
    They went back to drinking beer and staring at the glow of the Coors Light sign behind the bar. Across the room Rafe had gone from tossing back shots to making out with the young woman on his lap. Cal kept half of his attention on Rafe, while the other half went over what the old guy had told him. He’d lived around here a long time. In forty years of sitting at this bar, he’d probably heard every rumor or bit of gossip in town. And he didn’t seem averse to voicing his opinions.
    “So you must know about everything that goes on in this town,” Cal said.
    “Reckon