Chapter 5 The attempt

Third person's POV

He looked up from the book and saw Bella Cather standing right in front of him, the end of a bright green neck wrapped around her shoulder.

The green eye Bella had been trying to get him to like her. Still, even before Miss McCarthy had shown up and spoiled his appetite for everyday things. He'd been resisting the easy route of paying for the satisfaction; he'd even considered seeking out some lovely young girl and he was courting her.

However, he vowed he'd never marry. No, that wouldn't be fair to any woman. "Hey, Bella, or should I say Ella?" He questioned.

"What's up this lovely evening?" Her rouged lips curved upwards, displaying A sensuality Belied by The child-like gleam in Her green eyes.

"Well, you know I'm always on a slow boil for you, Summer," She purred and shamelessly flirted. "Well, hmm, I think I rather call you Angell" she settled one hip on his table and caressed the bare skin just above her low-cut bodice. He felt his lips bend in return.

She was comely no doubt about it. "Well, I'm sure I am hungry," he drawled when a sudden hush filled the room; there was a sudden uncertainty and obvious trepidation stood Miss McCarthy in her hair pinned loosely on the top of her head, her sleek figure clad in a blue silk gown.

His impulse was to get up and go to her and try to ease the worrying line of her brow, but when she caught sight of him, she swiftly averted her eyes stung, he leaned back in his chair.

"Who's that?" Bella asked with her young mouth agape. "She sure ain't from around here."

Angell chewed the inside of his lip and studied her. "Nope, She sure ain't."

The young man who follows Miss McCarthy around hadn't noticed him, but it wouldn't have mattered if he had. There would have been no acknowledgment, Angell knew.

"Bella sweetheart, get me a vodka, will ya?" He asked with his eyes, not leaving the smooth passage Miss McCarthy made from the entrance to the table.

A host of sorts had materialized from behind the bar and seated them at the best table in the house. Gradually, the noise in the room worked its way back up, slowly. Angell didn't know why he cared about Miss McCarthy's rejection. Hell yeah, he'd I asked for it.

It was just that he'd almost convinced himself she was made of better stuff than the usual eyebrow. Why wasn't he sure. She was beautiful, it was true, but there was something else, something in her looks, Something that drew him like a witch's Long lost spell. Bella returned with his Vodka, and he slammed it back in on one swig.

He ordered another along with whatever today's remarkable happened and continued to watch Miss McCarthy and the so-called Mister Flynn. Miss McCarthy spread her napkin on her lap and said something low to her companion as she spoke. Her eyes trailed around the room, taking in the motley crew at the bar and the vociferous poker game in the corner.

One of the boys at the bar graced at her with a yellow-toothed leer, and a one batched eye, then she blanched and stared rigidly at her hands in her lap.

Summer wished she'd relax and show some curiosity instead of that prudish fear of the unwashed. The man was probably just happy to have teeth still and one not-so-good one eye to show off at every opportunity. Miss McCarthy's mouth was pinched into a line, and the stealthy travel of her eyes undermined her pretty face

As Mister Flynn bent toward her and spoke, Angell was sure that the little jackasses were filling her head with all the evils represented by the collection of men in Lucretia this evening. He was probably guaranteeing some calamitous molestation unless she clasped right close to him. It was a trick he'd seen it done a dozen times by men with unmarried ladies they want to keep.

It was what he'd been doing right now if he were sitting with her. His meal arrived, and he looked down in dismay to see that he'd ordered oatmeal. He glanced up at Bella and caught her in an ungracious smirk. "That'll teach ya to pay more attention," she said with a flip of her bouncy red hair.

"Where's the vodka?"

She pouted. "keep ya pant on, I'll get it." She flopped off again. Angell sighed and served a spoonful of oatmeal in a grimace- This is stupid. he thought again, Sitting here like a love-starved puppy while the grand dame of aristocracy sat not five yards away, probably wishing he would disappear.

He served up another spoonful and chewed it before he noticed it taste like Uncooked wheat flour, then he pushed the plate away. Bella returned with his drink and leaned against his table, pulling one leg up unto it to expose a fishnet line of the calf.

"What you say, Summer? I got a free couple hours tonight, and you know I had my eye on you for a while now," She leaned forward, and Angell noted a light sprinkling of freckles across her chest above the swell Of her breasts.

Instead of answering, he took a sip of vodka, determined to nurse this one. He wasn't making near enough money to start squandering its liquor. Settling down the drinks, he studied her,

"You're a right fine looking lady Bella" He pushed his thumbs into the pocket of his vest and leaned back. "Whatever made you turn to such a life as this one?" He questioned but not in a judgemental way.

Confusion floated in her green eyes. "What's wrong with my life?"

Angell shrugged, "I don't know, why don't you find some nice guy and settle down instead of selling that beautiful body of yours?" Instantly, her face cleared, and she pushed one end of her wrap around her shoulder.

"Why? Summer," she wrapped a slim arm around his neck. "You are offering, sweetheart?" He settled his big hands on her tiny waist and attempted to push her from her perch.

"No, I wasn't talking about my pumpkin." But damn, her young body was warm and pleasant right here for his taking.

"I ain't worth marrying. Take a word for it, Bella. I was talking bout some nice guy a little older to your age." He glanced around the room in search of someone who might fit the description, but it was woefully apparent why a pretty young thing like Bella had turned to the life she had.

None of the men in the room could provide her with the living she earned herself with the possible exception of the not so little Mister Flynn.

Angell's eyes narrowed, and he felt the devil take hold of his soul; he looked sideways at Bella. "Tasks that young gent over there." He nodded his head in Miss McCarthy's direction.

"I heard him talking earlier today about some green eye he saw-well, you know how men talk." Bella followed her gaze and took in the fancy clothes, the well-stocked table, and the apparent manners of the man in question.

"Him?" She pointed and wrinkled her nose. "Why he's sitting there with his wife. You don't expect me to go flirting on him now, do you?"

"She's ain't his wife, honey, I talked to them earlier today, and I think she's his sister. Just give it a try, will you? Pip Cheerio," He said, pushing her slightly to take the lead to Miss McCarthy's table.

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