Tres Leches Cupcakes (20 page)

“I don’t know,” Caro said. The shelves had been removed from the fridge, leaving a big open space for them to stack the cupcake boxes. Caro put hers on the bottom, then turned to get Sadie’s.

“The exhibit opens at six, and there’s no one here to serve,” Sadie said once her arms were empty.

“I’m sure someone will be here soon,” Caro said, letting the refrigerator door close and following Sadie back to the loft. On their way to get the next set of boxes, they passed two young men on their way up the stairs, each of them holding a commercial dishwasher tray full of glassware.

By the third trip upstairs, Sadie could hear JoAnna barking orders at the half dozen people dressed in black who had gathered near a display table at the front of the main floor. One of the men they’d passed on the stairs had cleared away the serving trays on part of the table and was setting out narrow, fluted glasses. His name tag read Thomas. Another man was on his way up the stairs, carrying a wooden case of champagne bottles. A sample bottle of the champagne was displayed in a silver wine bucket for the benefit of the guests. Loathe as Sadie was to admit it, the cupcakes seemed a little informal compared to the rest of the gathering. She wondered why Ethan Standage had chosen cupcakes over gourmet cheeses or fancy chocolates.

“Are you two keeping up the serving table?” Thomas asked when they came out of the serving area empty-handed. He did a poor job of hiding the fact that he was looking them over head to toe. Every other “worker” Sadie had seen, him included, was dressed in all black. Caro wore khaki pants and a teal buttoned-up shirt while Sadie was dressed in jeans and a blue-and-white striped T-shirt.

“We’re just delivery,” Caro explained. Sadie glanced at the clock. The gallery would open soon. Where were the servers?

“I see,” he said, looking a little less confused as to why they weren’t in the right uniform. He glanced at his watch and straightened a line of glasses. “I hope they hurry, then.”

Sadie and Caro agreed, wished both men a good evening, and headed downstairs. Sadie wanted to take more time and look over the photos, but it felt presumptuous to do so. Several workers were still hurrying back and forth taking care of last-minute details, and Sadie didn’t want to get in the way. Maybe she’d come back tonight as a guest. She’d get another cupcake if she did. That alone was worth getting dressed up for. The exhibit was open to the public, right?

“Thanks, ladies,” JoAnna said as she blew past them on her way to another part of the gallery. She’d taken off the housedress, revealing a lovely light blue dress, and had swapped her Crocs for silver pumps Sadie feared would have her limping by the end of the night. The showing went until ten.

“You’re welcome,” Caro said to JoAnna’s retreating figure. They were almost to the back entrance when Sadie put a hand on Caro’s arm.

“Hang on a minute,” she said impulsively before turning to follow JoAnna.

She found JoAnna in a small office, thumbing through a stack of papers, pulling out one now and then and putting it aside. Invoices, maybe?

“Do you need help with the serving table tonight?” Sadie asked from the doorway.

“I don’t think so,” JoAnna said, distracted as she considered one of the papers, then kept it in the main stack. “We hired a couple of guys from La Fonda. Didn’t you see them up there?”

“Yes, they’re up there,” Sadie said. “But I had the impression they weren’t expecting to serve the cupcakes.”

JoAnna looked up, a concerned expression on her face that passed a few moments later. “It’s just cupcakes and champagne, I’m sure they can keep up.”

“You know, I could help with the cupcakes,” she said. “It would be no trouble.”

JoAnna looked at her thoughtfully, and Sadie hurried to make the deal even sweeter. “The boys could then pass drinks rather than stay upstairs. No charge, of course. Consider it a thank-you gift from Modern Cupcakes by Lois. This is wonderful exposure for us.”

“Really?” JoAnna said, looking unsure.

“Really,” Sadie said with a smile. She waved toward the front of the gallery. “I know how intense events like this can get, and I’m happy to take over that one small part in order to free everyone up from having to worry about it.”

JoAnna’s eyes moved toward Sadie’s clothes.

“I live a few minutes away and can be in uniform before the gallery opens.”

JoAnna paused another moment, then broke into a wide grin. “Deal. Thank you.”

Sadie found Caro texting by the back door and explained what she’d done as they headed toward their cars.

“What a great idea,” Caro said, her bright eyes wide with excitement. “This will be fun!”

Sadie hadn’t offered Caro’s help, but obviously she expected to be a part of it. Normally, Sadie would love the company.

“What about Rex?” Sadie asked. Caro hadn’t mentioned what her plan was for dinner; Wednesday was always her day to cook.

“He’s a big boy,” Caro said dismissively. “He can forage for himself. It’ll be good for him. I’ll meet you at home, and we can drive back to the gallery together.”

“Maybe Rex would like to come to the showing,” Sadie offered. “You two could come to the exhibit together, and maybe get dinner once things quiet down enough that I can handle things on my own.”

Caro waved away the suggestion and pulled open the driver’s door of her car. “He’d be a curmudgeon,” she said. “I’ll see you at home.”

Feeling as though she had no choice, Sadie got into her own car and followed Caro home. She was starving, but she didn’t have time for a full meal. Maybe she could grab something if Rex wasn’t in the kitchen.

Sadie had bought a pair of black stretchy dress pants during one of her and Caro’s shopping trips a few weeks ago. It had built-in minimizing panels in the front and at the sides, slenderizing Sadie’s figure in a way that was worth the $85 she paid. She paired the slacks with a black three-quarter sleeve, scoop-neck top. She really, really wanted to wear the turquoise necklace she’d worn the other night, but none of the other workers at the gallery had worn jewelry, and so she erred on the side of conformity.

Luckily, Sadie didn’t see Rex during the quick stop, and within ten minutes, she and Caro were back in Caro’s car and headed for the gallery. Sadie ate a handful of crackers and a string cheese during the drive, feeling sufficiently held over, though far from satisfied. Snack food wasn’t a real meal, but it turned off the hungries, and for that she was grateful.

At least she had another cupcake to look forward to. It wasn’t a meal either, but the satisfaction level would be much higher.

Chapter 20

They arrived with only minutes to spare before the front doors opened. A dozen people were already visiting with one another on the sidewalk out front. The champagne boys were very happy to see Sadie and Caro, and the shorter of the two, Darron, stayed at the table while Thomas headed downstairs with a tray full of glasses in anticipation of serving the first visitors.

Caro and Sadie set out three dozen cupcakes and then familiarized themselves with more of the loft area—three separate visiting rooms opened into a common area where the serving would take place. They decided to take turns going through those rooms every fifteen minutes or so and picking up stray glasses, napkins, or liners even though each room had its own garbage can.

Sadie wasn’t sure what she expected when the doors opened, but there was an almost anticlimactic hush to the conversations that whispered up to the loft area, and it was almost ten full minutes before the first of the guests made their way upstairs. Within half an hour, however, she and Caro were staying busy keeping the table stocked and the visiting rooms clean, while Darron poured champagne and retrieved empty glasses from pretty much every horizontal surface. They developed a good rhythm, Sadie staying mostly in the kitchen area while Caro stayed out front where she knew a surprising number of people.

Before they knew it, it was nearly eight o’clock. Caro had finished her first glass of champagne and started on a second, and they were running low on cupcakes. By 8:30, they’d put out the last of the cupcakes—people must have taken seconds. It seemed impossible that four hundred people had come through the gallery in two and a half hours.

Sadie broke down the empty bakery boxes and washed down the counters, leaving the serving area as clean as it had been before they arrived. Darron had joined Thomas on the main floor, so Sadie took a few minutes to place their dirty glasses into the plastic dishwasher trays. She suspected the glasses were on loan from La Fonda, and later tonight, they would be run through the commercial dishwashers and returned to their usual residence on a shelf somewhere in the historic hotel.

By the time she joined Caro, who was talking to yet another friend, in Spanish, there were only two dozen cupcakes left. Sadie felt guilty eating one of the last cakes, and wished she’d eaten one in the beginning when she wouldn’t feel so bad.

When Caro finished her conversation, she suggested they leave the dessert table to its own devices and go look at the prints on display.

“That’s a great idea,” Sadie said. She’d no sooner said those words when several people on the main floor turned toward the back of the gallery. Moments later, champagne glasses were put down and applause broke out. Sadie leaned over the half wall as far as she could to see what had caused such excitement, but she couldn’t see far enough.

“Ethan must be here,” Caro said, pointing at the large wrought-iron clock on the front wall of the gallery. “I heard someone say he was coming around nine. He’s going to give a little speech, I think.” It was 8:40.

Sadie was curious to see the man of the hour, the man whose family ranch seemed to have swallowed Margo whole, but reminded herself to be patient. It had never been her intent to introduce herself to him. She just wanted to be in his space and see him up close.

They made their way downstairs, and Sadie picked up a brochure from the small table set by the front door. Caro was stopped by yet another acquaintance, giving Sadie time to browse the beautifully designed brochure, complete with thumbnail-sized copies of some of Ethan’s prints. On the back was a message from Ethan:

The sense of immortality one can take from history is priceless, and I consider it a privilege to do my part in preserving those things that have survived generations, bringing a piece of that immortality with them. With
Light and Lens
it is my goal to keep the cherishing of these sacred items alive while allowing those same articles to complete their own existence; everything has a right to die, but that does not mean that its life cannot be treasured by those who have followed in the footsteps of the Ancients.

Sadie thought it sounded a little pedantic. The tone was all about reverence and respect, and yet wasn’t he exploiting those very items as well? She read the rest of the brochure while Caro finished her conversation. Learning that Ethan had graduated with his master’s degree in anthropology from the University of New Mexico a few years ago diffused some of her cynicism. Currently, he taught one class each semester at his alma mater. Was he going to give up his career in order to take over the ranch? It seemed that his passions went wide of his family’s industry, yet his mother was in poor health and his father was traveling extensively in order to be both a husband and ranch owner. At the bar, Mike had said several ranches had downsized lately. How had Cold River Ranch been affected by the economic conditions that had seemed to impact other people in the cattle industry?

The brochure explained that each of Ethan’s prints was a one-of-a-kind original and that following the production of each piece, Ethan destroyed all electronic copies. Sadie didn’t know a lot about the photography art market, but she supposed that destroying digital negatives, which were eternal in theory, was a pretty unique thing to do.

Sadie easily picked out Ethan Standage from the crowd, though she could only see him when people moved out of the way. She guessed he was in his early thirties, but he had the young Bohemian look: overgrown hair, a casual “I’m too busy to shave” growth of beard, and silver-rimmed glasses. He wore a charcoal dress shirt with no tie and a black corduroy jacket. He also wore jeans and designer cowboy boots—the perfect blend of cowboy, artist, and yuppie all rolled together. His teeth were perfectly straight and blindingly white when he smiled, making him look more Hollywood than tree-hugger. He didn’t seem particularly comfortable in the crowd, which Sadie found interesting.

Half a dozen people surrounded Ethan near the table where he was selling his books at the front of the gallery. The serpentine flow of the crowd would take Caro and Sadie to him eventually, so Sadie turned her attention to the pictures, just as Caro said
adiós
to her friend.

“So, he really photographs these pieces but leaves them there?” Sadie asked Caro. It seemed suspect to her. She thought about the discovery of the cave Margo had told her about in the desert, and how careful she’d been to not touch anything for risk of destroying it. Ethan claimed to believe the same thing, but he had to pose the pieces for the photos, taking them out of situ in the process. There was hypocrisy there.