Southern Comforts

by Nan Dixon

  Abby pulled him close, running her fingers through his silky hair.

  “Let’s go to my room, or your room, I don’t care.” Desperation filled Gray’s voice. “I want to be alone with you.”

  “Gray...” Before she could say yes, his phone blared again. This time she glanced at the screen.

  “It’s Daniel. You should answer.” She leaned her head against his chest. His heart pounded like hers.

  He cursed.

  Gray answered the call and wrapped an arm around her waist. “What’s up?”

  As he listened, his blue eyes turned steely, and he clenched his jaw tight.

  “I’ll meet you there,” he told Daniel.

  Gray shut his phone off. “The security alarm went off at the warehouse. We’ll finish this later.”

  * * *

  “WHAT’D THEY GET?” Gray fingered the smashed padlock.

  “Copper.” Daniel held the door as they walked inside. “They got away with the pipe before the police arrived. Started ripping out the phone wires, but the sirens must have scared them off.”

  “At least the gas was shut off. Too bad they didn’t steal the pipes we’re replacing.” Gray swatted at the anchors that had once held the pipes to the walls.

  “The security company sent someone over,” Daniel said. “The guy’s walking through the top two floors right now.”

  “We need someone here overnight, permanently. I don’t want more equipment disappearing.”

  Daniel slapped his cap on his thigh. “We could fix up a unit for someone.”

  “First floor?” Gray suggested.

  Daniel nodded. “I know which one you’re thinking about. I’ll take a look in the morning.”

  Someone staying on-site. What about Josh and his mom? He wouldn’t need to charge them rent—hell, he could pay her, help them out. He grinned. Maybe Cheryl would take on some of the construction cleaning. Win, win, win. Just having the lights on and people in the space should keep Cheryl and Josh safe. And he would make sure there was a top-of-the-line security system for them. “I might know someone who could stay.”

  Daniel nodded. “I’ll see what we have to do to get an occupancy clearance.”

  Gray locked the door as they went outside. The unusual bite in the air had him turning up his coat collar.

  “I’ve already called the plumbing sub.” Daniel leaned against his truck. “Unfortunately, until the price of copper drops, we’re going to keep seeing thefts like this.”

  “It happened on a couple of my jobs up north, too. The cops caught one, meth users in that case. They hit a series of construction sites.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess the Savannah setting lulled me into thinking those things wouldn’t happen down here.”

  “We’ve got all the big-city vices, but they’re wrapped up in Spanish moss and charm. Sorry you’re not experiencing our Southern hospitality.”

  Gray sighed. “I think staying at Fitzgerald House has been worth it.”

  A small smile played across Daniel’s face. “Yeah, those sisters are something else.”

  How well did Daniel know the Fitzgeralds? “Abby’s the only sister who lives on-site, right?”

  “Yes.” Daniel jiggled his keys.

  “Sure seems like she never takes any time off. Does the lady work 24/7?”

  “She’s pretty focused.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Gray wanted to ask about the last man she’d dated, but Daniel looked protective. “I never see her slow down.”

  “The whole family had a hard time after their dad died. He left them in debt up to their eyeballs, and they’re still paying it off. A sweet-talkin’ liar, that’s what my mom called him.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there.” So Abby had more problems than just restoring the third floor. One more reason to keep anything between them physical and short-term.

  “We’ll have to talk about that one over a beer—or two. See you in the morning.”

  Gray climbed the steps up from River Street. As he crossed Bay, a group of people called out, “Do you know where Kevin Barry’s Pub is?”

  “Take these stairs down and take a left when you hit the river.” Abby would laugh at the notion that he’d given directions to tourists. “Have fun.”

  Abby. When he got back to the B and B, she’d be asleep.

  Gray wanted to be in Abby’s bed. Somehow it didn’t matter to him that she was in debt or that those debts might complicate whatever they had together. He no longer cared why she was with him. All he knew was that he wanted her.

  * * *

  “I NEED YOU to stay here.” Cheryl set Josh’s backpack on the floor in the Fitzgerald House upstairs sitting area. “Right here.”

  Just yesterday Josh had wandered into the kitchen while she’d folded towels. Miss Abby had been great, entertaining and feeding him, but Cheryl didn’t want to impose.

  She needed this job. She would never go back to Levi.

  That meant she had to earn enough to pay for rent and eventually day care. And she needed to keep her car running. The man at the shop said she needed a new muffler and an alternator—soon.

  Food was more important. And new shoes for Josh. She wrung her hands. He was growing out of his clothes so fast.

  “I won’t go anywhere, Mamma.” Josh gave her his sweetest smile.

  She pushed her cart over to the Lucy Hayes room. “I’ll be in here.”

  She knocked, even though Marion had said the couple had checked out. “Housekeeping.”

  As she waited, she looked back at Josh. When no one answered, she swiped her key card and opened the door. She used the cart to prop the door open. That way if Josh needed her, he’d be able to get to her.

  The room wasn’t too messy, thank goodness. She hated when people left their condom wrappers beside the bed.

  Pulling open the drapes, she stared at Miss Bess’s beautiful gardens. She’d abandoned her African violet collection at Levi’s. Some of the plants had been her grandmother’s, others her mother’s, and it still hurt to think of leaving them behind.

  She ripped the covers off the bed, wishing she could curl up on the soft mattress. No time. Moving into the bathroom, she grabbed the towels and stuffed them into the laundry bag with the bedding. Then she emptied the wastebaskets and started putting the room to rights.

  She spotted cash on the desk under her card. Twenty bucks. She tucked the money in her pocket. She couldn’t remember what the couple looked like, but they’d just helped buy her son new shoes.

  Cheryl peeked out the door. Josh had his blond head down, working furiously in his coloring book.

  She hated that they lived this way. Her son should be outside playing, making friends. Instead, he had to stay with her all the time. She hadn’t been able to survive Brad’s death. Hadn’t given her son a decent home.

  She grabbed the bucket of cleaning products and headed to the bathroom.

  She wanted more than a cleaning job. Maybe she could learn to cook. Miss Abby worked magic in the kitchen.

  She grabbed the mop and went to work on the floor. She would make everything sparkle, because she couldn’t lose this job.

  Sweat poured down her back as she took one final swipe.

  “Looks good,” a deep voice said behind her.

  She swung around, wielding the mop like a weapon.

  “Whoa.” Mr. Smythe jumped back, his hands in the air. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I’m...”

  “I should have known better,” he said, backing into the main room. “Marion said I’d find you up here.”

  Why was he looking for her? Her heart beat harder. Josh.

  She hurried out of the bathroom and moved to the hallway. He w
as still where she’d asked him to stay. The breath caught in her chest came out in a whoosh.

  Josh looked up and waved. “Hi, Gray.”

  “Hey, Josh.” Mr. Smythe joined her in the hall.

  She turned to Mr. Smythe, shuffling back a step or two. He was just so big. “Is...is there something you need?”

  He held up his hands, as if surrendering.

  She took another step back, hating herself for being afraid.

  “I don’t know what your living situation is, but I’ve got a proposition.”

  Her body shook. She risked another glance at Josh. “No.”

  “What?” Mr. Smythe frowned. “But you haven’t even heard—”

  “I may be...struggling.” She shook her head. “But I won’t stoop that low.”

  His eyes went wide. “That’s not what I meant. God, no.”

  Rushing down the hallway, she stopped in front of Josh. “Come and work in the room with me.”

  She pinched her lips together, trying to stop them from trembling.

  “No. Wait.” He held his hands out, palms up. “Someone broke into the warehouse I’m rehabbing. I was hoping you and Josh would consider living there to help with security.”

  She stopped stuffing Josh’s things into his backpack.

  “I don’t understand.” She set her hand on her son’s shoulder.

  “You’d be helping me.”

  She looked down at Josh, then back up at Mr. Smythe. “Why?”

  “There’s a unit that we can fix up pretty quickly.” He rubbed his cheek, his whiskers rasping in the quiet. “But we have a ways to go before the rest of the building is ready. I don’t want my equipment or supplies walking away in the meantime.”

  “What would I have to do?” She wouldn’t be a very big deterrent. She’d barely been able to fight Levi off, and he’d been drunk.

  “Nothing. I just want it to be clear that the building is occupied. And if you hear anything, I’d only want you to call me or the police. Both. If I’m not here, you’d call Daniel Forester. He’s doing the construction.”

  “How much would the rent be?” This sounded too good to be true.

  “Sorry, I should have said at the beginning. The rent is free. I need you more than you need me.” He smiled. “No strings.”

  “Free?” She suddenly felt light-headed. This couldn’t be real. Free?

  “Okay.” Mr. Smythe grinned down at Josh. “Your mom’s a tough negotiator.”

  “My mom’s the best.” Josh hugged her legs.

  “How about if I pay you a couple hundred a month?” Mr. Smythe asked.

  “That’s ridiculous.” But she swallowed. No rent and more money? Maybe she could look into day care for Josh and cooking classes for herself. Wouldn’t that be something? “Let me...let me think about it.”

  “I hope you’ll agree.” He ruffled Josh’s hair.

  Could she do this? “Yes.” Tears threatened to fall, but she held them back. “Thank you.”

  Mr. Smythe nodded. “Good. I’ll get Daniel to get the place ready.”

  A weird feeling bubbled in her chest. Hope. It had been such a long time since she’d felt anything like it. Maybe she could finally make a better life for herself and Josh.

  * * *

  ABBY WORKED TO nail down menus for the next two weeks. She wanted items she could prepare in advance. Then she needed to place her food order.

  A deep voice said, “Sounds delicious.”

  She jumped and clipped Gray in the chin with her shoulder.

  “That’s the menu for the garden-tour teas.” She stroked his face where she’d bumped him. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” He pointed back at the list. “I vote for pecan bars.”

  “Isn’t that a surprise?” She added the bars to the list with a shake of her head. “I thought I saw you leave this morning.”

  “I came back to make some calls and talk to Cheryl about something.” He poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table.

  His marvelous scent wrapped around her. She fought to keep herself from leaning over and inhaling. It would make her jumpier than she already was. She needed to channel her sexual energy into work. She had hours of labor ahead of her today and no time for daydreaming.

  “What happened last night at the warehouse?” she asked. Anything to keep her fingers away from that dark hair.

  “Someone broke in and stole copper.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  He waved her sympathy away. “I asked Cheryl and Josh if she would live there.” His fingers tapped the table. “I’m going to pay her. I want someone on-site.” His words rushed out. “Just a presence.”

  He wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Are you stealing one of my best employees?” she teased.

  His blue gaze snapped back to hers. “God, no.”

  She laughed at his shocked expression. “Did she say yes?”

  He rolled his eyes. “With tears.”

  “You’re a very nice man.”

  “Don’t spread that around.”

  But she thought about his generosity after he left and as she walked to the bank for her meeting.

  “We will get this loan,” Abby muttered. The day was too gorgeous for anything to go wrong. “We will succeed.”

  Abby tugged on the skirt of her navy blue suit. She’d dressed conservatively to show that she was serious. Failure wasn’t an option.

  She walked through the branch and pulled open the doors to the administrative wing of the First Savannah Mercantile Bank. As the door swung shut, the clatter of tellers and bank customers faded.

  Abby checked her watch—fifteen minutes early. She and Dolley had agreed to arrive early.

  A young woman acted as sentry outside Wayne’s office. Wayne had been their loan officer ever since Mamma had begun restoring Fitzgerald House. His assistant didn’t look familiar, and Abby had been here just a few months ago. He seemed to go through a lot of assistants.

  Abby glanced down at the woman’s nameplate. “Hi, Libby, I’m Abigail Fitzgerald. My sister and I are meeting with Wayne.”

  The young woman’s fingernails clattered against her keyboard. She didn’t even look up. “Libby left. I’m a temp. Are you Mr. Lennertz’s ten o’clock?” she asked.

  “Yes. Abigail and Dolley Fitzgerald,” Abby repeated.

  The woman looked up, a frown creasing her forehead. “You’re the only one here.”

  “My sister’s on her way,” Abby explained.

  “Mr. Lennertz is still in a meeting.” The temp waved her over to the guest chairs. “Please, take a seat.”

  Abby sank into the chair. Whenever she met with Wayne, she felt like a poor relation begging for a handout.

  At one time, the Fitzgerald family had been part owners of the bank. Unfortunately, her father had used the bank stock to secure the failed Tybee land deal. After he’d died, the sale of the bank stock hadn’t covered the debt he’d accumulated. Mamma had been forced to take out additional loans to survive.

  Wayne had been more than willing to share those details with Abby at the first loan-review meeting she’d attended three years ago. Along with the fact that if Mamma had dated him, maybe the Fitzgerald family wouldn’t always be asking the bank for money.

  Thank goodness Mamma had had the sense not to go out with Wayne.

  Abby crossed her legs and glanced at the magazines. If she leaned a little to the left, she could see inside Wayne’s office.

  He had his chair rocked back. He and the man sitting in his office seemed to be shooting the breeze. At least Wayne had a smile on his round face.

  She consciously stopped her fingers from tapping on her thigh. Think positive. They would get the loan, fin
ish off the room restorations and build Southern Comforts. Her restaurant.

  And maybe they could win the lottery without buying a ticket, too.

  Dolley had better get here soon. Abby pulled out the projections. If her sister didn’t show up, Abby needed to speak coherently about the B and B’s financial progress.

  She studied the numbers, but her mind was like a Teflon pan—every statistic slipped away. Dolley was their numbers person.

  She checked her watch. Ten o’clock.

  Where R U? she texted. Her stomach churned like a mixer set on high.

  No answer.

  Laughter rolled out of Wayne’s office. At least he didn’t know Dolley was late.

  Dolley finally breezed into the waiting area ten minutes late, a scarf streaming behind her. Her curly red hair was pinned up in a big clip. “Sorry, sorry.”

  Abby stared at Dolley’s outfit—jeans and a T-shirt. “That’s what you’re wearing?” she groaned. This wasn’t a good start. “We’re asking for a lot of money. Why aren’t you in a suit?”

  “Don’t start with me,” Dolley growled. “At least I threw on a jacket. I’ve been up all night—server problems.”

  Releasing her clenched fists, Abby approached the temp’s desk. “My sister’s here.”

  The temp actually snapped her gum and slouched her way to Wayne’s doorway. “Your ten o’clock is here.”

  “Tell the girls to wait,” Wayne called out.

  Abby took deep breaths as she went back to sit next to Dolley.

  Dolley tapped away on her phone. “Did I give you an update on other loan or grant possibilities?”

  “No.”

  “I haven’t found anything. We’ll need to ask Wayne for help.” Dolley wrinkled her nose.

  They stood as Wayne and his guest finally vacated the office.

  “Abigail, Dolley, good to see you.” Wayne’s voice boomed in the small waiting area. “Ginny, did you offer them anything to drink?”

  Ginny looked up. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Coffee, black.” Dolley sounded desperate.

  “Water, please,” Abby said. She wanted to get this meeting started.

  Wayne led them to a small table in his office. The paneling was so dark it sucked the light out of the room. As she and Dolley opened their files, Wayne’s assistant brought in their drinks.