Dee pursed her lips and waited. The silence stretched into discomfort and Jack’s pencil slowed its furious scratching to a dead stop. Still she waited until Jack looked up, then lifted two fingers and spoke with a confident voice. “Two reasons: traffic flow”—she waggled one finger—“and curb appeal.”
She let her words sit there for a second before reaching out and lifting the pencil from Jack’s fingers.
Ray straightened and stepped over to stand behind the pad that rested between Jack and Dee.
“Traffic flow,” she stated, drawing lines up and down the narrow leg of the deck Jack had drawn. “If you’re going to allow room for people to move easily from here”—she indicated the front—“to here”—she trailed a line to the back—“you’ll only be able to put one table in this area. What would be the point?”
The silence in the room was absolute. Was Jared listening to this discussion? She pitched her voice louder to carry to the table behind them. “It would be like announcing that you’ve done some cheap remodeling.
“Which would be negative curb appeal. This”—she pointed to the larger deck area—“is tucked so far back that potential customers coming from Lexington wouldn’t see it until they’ve passed the place. Then they have to wonder, ‘Is it worth turning around?’
“If you build out here”—she sketched a wide area overrunning the current parking area—“the bright colors on the umbrellas will catch customers’ eyes during the day, and your lighting will capture their attention at night. It would be a win-win.”
Jack rested his chin on his palm, a finger curling over his lips. “You’ve thought this through,” he said with quiet consideration.
Dee’s pulse throbbed beneath her skin, pounded in her ears as Ray studied her sketches. It was time for her big sell. Her first full pitch. “Why aren’t you taking advantage of your name?”
Ray lifted a blank gaze.
Her stomach roiled. “You should have nightly specials. Just One Moore Dime. You could offer something like wings.” She snapped her fingers. “Or chips and salsa for 10 cents.” Snap. “Just One Moore Lime could be margarita night.”
Unable to stand the silence, Dee stood and paced away from the bar, then spun back around. “And T-shirts.” She didn’t need her notes. Her ideas flowed in a natural progression through her mind. “Why don’t you have T-shirts? How many colleges are in this area?”
Ray shook his head, a spectator to her flight of ideas. She couldn’t take offense. All of her fears fell away with her work. This was what she’d been born to do.
“College kids love T-shirts. It’s like the uniform of that age group. Follow me for Just One Moore good time. Just One Moore legal drinker. No,” she scrunched her nose, “I don’t like that. Make it Just One Moore Legal Adult. Yes!” She clapped her hands. “You should do something special for twenty-first birthdays,” she said as she danced toward the bar.
“I do.” Ray folded his arms over his chest. “I give the birthday person a free drink.”
The laughter that bubbled out of her throat died instantly when she looked at him. “You’re serious.” If that was his idea of advertising and promotion, he needed serious help.
“I was thinking of something big.” She tried to sound diplomatic. “Like putting together a twenty-first birthday party package.”
“You mean with the food I’m going to be serving.”
“Yes. That, and something more. Something bigger. Like a limousine.”
“A limo?”
“Yes. To pick up the birthday person and his closest friends, get them to the party, and deliver them home safely.” She looked up at him. “Safe, responsible drinking.”
Ray propped an elbow on the counter and waved a hand. “Isn’t that going to be too expensive for college kids? What kind of profit will I make on that?”
“It’s not always about profit. At least not immediate profit.” With measured steps, Dee approached the bar, took her seat. “It’s about creating an image. You’re establishing this place as the place to have a twenty-first birthday party. About having people associate this place with great parties, great food, great music, great dancing so when they want to go out, Just One Moore is the first place that comes to mind.
“Yes, it is going to cost you,” she cautioned, aware of Jack beside her. “And in the beginning, your outlay will be high. But the return is there, waiting.”
Like her. Waiting for Ray to give her ideas a nod of approval. Not that it mattered. He’d already agreed to pay her for this much. And the part for her car was due in any day now. She’d be up and running soon.
Running.
Her gaze drifted back to the mirror. To the dark, silent man behind her. For all his arguments about staying and taking a stand, he didn’t know…couldn’t know what it was like to search every car that passed on the road. To wonder, on those rare times she was in a public place, if the next person to come through the door would be someone sent to eliminate her.
Carl was too smart to come in person. She wasn’t within easy reach. He would have hours to account for instead of minutes. No, with his expected pay-off, he could afford to hire someone.
The not knowing, the certainty it would be a stranger, ate at her. She’d lost weight in the last week, slept poorly. The only time she felt truly free was when she was working. She could lose herself in the free-fall of ideas. And now that was over, done, down to Ray’s accepting her proposal or not.
Personal pride and a deep desire to see her dream grow from paper to reality begged for his approval.
The silence stretched, pulling her apart, stealing her breath.
“It’s going to push me. Seriously. But I want to do it,” Ray said.
There was a rustle in the chair behind her as the words penetrated her brain. Then a jolt of current zipped through every cell of her body. Arms flying above her head, Dee tumbled from her stool. “Yes!”
The weight of three pairs of eyes couldn’t subdue her.
“I expect you to meet with me and the builder.”
“You’ll need an architect,” she corrected.
“I’m a draftsman,” Jack said, pocketing his pencil. “I can draw up anything you need.”
As she stared at the man, caution warred with exuberance. “I’ll need some references.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction.
He didn’t like being the subject of questioning. Too bad. This was her job. Her first job. And before she signed off, she would make sure it was in the right hands. “You’re a builder, right?”
Jack nodded.
“I’ll want to see some of your work, too.”
Again he nodded, pulling his sketch pad closed.
“Dee,” Ray said, grabbing her attention, “You’re going to have to stay around until the building’s complete and everything’s in place. Expansion and promotion are not my strengths.”
A second slipped by while Dee considered this unexpected request. To give him credit, Ray had not once glanced at Jared. This was about her, about her work. While it didn’t do a thing to increase her safety, it did flatter her fledgling professional ego.
What had Jared and Mike and Frank promised? Safety? Protection? Availability? Life didn’t come with guarantees, and if she hit the road, Carl would find her again. He had the resources.
For her, this place was growing into a good deal. There were people offering her support, a job. Even Ed dropped by frequently to check on her. If she was ever going to take a stand, Maystown seemed like the right place.
“You can count on me,” she promised.
She wanted to laugh; she wanted to sing.
She glanced in the mirror and wanted to see Jared smile, to see the shuttered, flat look in his eyes shatter with awareness of his surroundings. She wanted him to share her success.
The dratted man was driving her crazy. He started off showing all the potential to be the next big mistake in her life. And, thank you Jesus, she was grateful, if a little disappointed, that h
e’d backed off. Still, that frozen expression hurt her.
“I’m going outside and do some measuring,” Jack announced, as he stood.
“I need to know how to get in touch with you,” Dee said.
Jack nodded. “I’ll give you a card,” he said as he walked out the door.
Was he even breathing? Jared sat motionless, as if trying to avoid attention. Was he annoyed because of changes to the bar? Changes she was bringing?
Ray busied himself behind the counter: stacking glasses, stocking the chest-type refrigerator, sticking plastic spears into cups strategically placed around the bar.
Dee propped her elbows on the bar and stared into the mirror. The lines of tension that grew around his eyes and mouth said he was stubbornly ignoring her. Well, she was about to give him a lesson. How many times had her mother said her middle name must be “Stubborn?”
The thick glass door opened. “Hey,” Jack called, leaning in, “can you give me a hand out here?”
“I will,” Ray said. He plunked a cordless phone on the bar and nodded at Dee. “Answer this while I’m outside.”
As the two men walked to the door, Dee picked up the phone and swiveled to openly study Jared.
“How well do you know her?” Jack’s hushed voice carried around the closing door.
Jared’s gaze darted to the door then collided with hers. Heat radiated from her cheeks, but she held her gaze steady.
Was he going to comment? Was he going to defend her?
Was he going to stare at her forever?
Dee pursed her lips and with a shrug, pushed away from the bar, crossed to his table and plopped down in a chair beside him. If he wanted to ignore that comment, she could, too.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked, praying he’d say no. She knew nothing about the workings of a bar, but she wanted to hear his voice, get a reaction.
His grunt was an unsatisfactory reply, a challenge.
“Was that a yes or no?” She did her best imitation of Little Miss Sunshine.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” she chirped.
Turbulent dark eyes slammed into her. “Look, I’m fine.”
His terse words meant nothing next to the deep anguish in his eyes. Shaken, but more determined, Dee pasted on her brightest smile and leaned forward. “Good. I’m already taking care of one animal. I don’t think I’m ready for two.”
His stiff lips eased into a stunned gape.
It was a start.
“By the way,” she continued, “if I didn’t say it the other day, thank you for going to the vet….”
“You already thanked me,” he said, with sharp annoyance. “Four times.”
“Well”—she rested her arm on the table—“now it’s five. Special occasions require extra thanks.”
One black brow ticked up a fraction of an inch.
She angled her chin and grinned. “Lucky’s my first pet. I had no idea what to do. Still don’t, but I’m winging it.”
His mouth twitched, then…bingo! A tiny smile brightened his face.
“Do you have a pet?” she pushed on.
“No.”
“Did you ever have a pet?”
The brow arched higher. “Two dogs,” he reluctantly answered. “When I was little.”
“Did you take care of them”—she flashed a high beam, skeptical grin at him—“or did your mom?”
“I did,” he huffed, indignant.
Dee could do the imperial brow lift as well as anyone.
“Mom was too busy working,” he responded.
“What kind of work….”
“Are you going to sit there and ask questions all day long?”
“Are you going to sit there and pout all day long?”
“I’m not pouting,” he said, straightening in his chair.
“Looked like it to me.”
“I was thinking.”
Dee scrunched her nose. “They weren’t happy thoughts.”
Jared scraped his hands up his face and sighed. “Not everything in life is happy.”
Dee sat heavily in her chair, her mind a swirling blank. Where did she go from here? She’d made a little breakthrough, only to run into his brick wall of resistance.
Her gaze traced over his down-turned face, and she shook her head. “You know,” she began slowly, “I’ve always believed that everything has the potential to be positive or negative. Happy or sad. Attitude determines it.”
He nodded. “I must be pretty pathetic if you’re trying to cheer me up.”
She placed her hand on the table, fingers splayed. She wanted to close the distance, to slide her fingers over and touch him. An offer of support. Given his mood, she feared rejection.
His smile was without mirth. His dark eyes lifted to hers. “I’m having a hard time reconciling reality with desire.”
Unexpected heat flooded her belly. “Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Of course not. The reality of Carl Ormsby stood squarely between them. Still, she refused to sit in strained silence with this man. She moistened her dry lips before pressing on. “Tell me about your accident.”
His dark eyes went hard.
She refused to back down. Anything that got him talking was bound to help. “I figured those scars”—she pointed to her own chin—“came from an accident. Or maybe you smashed your face through glass for fun.”
Those long lashes swept down over his eyes as he pursed his lips.
She had the patience and stubbornness to wait him out.
“Car wreck,” he finally answered. “I went through a fence, across a field and landed in a ravine.”
She put some motherly scold in her tone. “Were you under the influence?”
His answer was rapid and offended. “No.”
“Texting while driving?”
His lips softened. “No.”
“Distracted by the girl in your car?”
There it was, that first gleam in his eyes, the first hint of a smile. “I was alone, in my cruiser.”
She scooted to the edge of her chair, propped her elbows on the table. “So it was work related?”
“I had just called in a pursuit. I thought I saw a missing person, a young girl who disappeared several months ago, driving toward town.”
“A case you were working on?” she encouraged when he stopped.
He shook his head. “No. I have no jurisdiction in that case. But a friend of mine—he works with teenagers in Lexington—is involved peripherally. So I’d kept up.”
The man was loyal, an admirable trait if you were lucky enough to fall under his protection. “You were chasing her?”
“We were headed in opposite directions when I recognized her. Thought I recognized her,” he corrected. “I’d flipped on my lights and was getting ready to turn around. A car came out of nowhere, flying down the road behind her. I hadn’t even finished the call.”
“They found her? She was picked up?” Dee asked.
“No. On the recording I say her name, then…” Jared stared at the table and blew out a long breath. “The sounds after that… Frank is the one who found me.”
She waited for him to continue.
“He said he couldn’t see the car from the road but saw the broken fence and decided to check it out. I wouldn’t have survived if Frank hadn’t…” He stopped. “It was just dumb luck that he was in the area.”
Or fate, she thought. They may not see eye-to-eye on much, but Dee couldn’t imagine a world without Jared in it.
“When Frank found me, I was unconscious and my leg was pinned. They had to cut me out.”
“How long ago did that happen?”
“Four months.”
“You’re in therapy now?”
He nodded. “In and out of the hospital a couple of times. The first time, immediately after the wreck, I was laid up for three weeks. I had to go back for more surgery on my hip.”
T
hat ate at him. He didn’t have to say it; she could see it. Jared Hamilton was a man used to being in control, in charge. Now something so simple as walking or running was a painful effort.
And his job? Jared was a cop inside and out. This accident posed a threat to his career, too.
“Jared.”
He rubbed his thumb over her fingers—fingers that covered his. She had no conscious recollection of making the connection, but the fact that she had was undeniable.
As was the heat that pulsed from that connection. That hung in the air between them.
He was a cop, another mistake. But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him way too often. In the last week, she’d become familiar with every Google reference to one Kentucky State Police Officer Jared Hamilton. She might have even saved one or two pictures that had popped up, which in the bright light of day made her feel like a stalker.
And stupid. He was still a cop.
With molten eyes that pulled at her soul.
He’d been so sweet with the puppy, so caring and gentle. Carl would never even notice something so small.
Jared wasn’t like Carl. Not every cop was bad.
The door swept open. Dee snatched her hand back. The heat, the moment was gone.
“Hey, Dee. Jared. How’s the puppy?” Frank asked, oblivious to the undercurrents around them.
She forced her gaze away from the dark storms of Jared’s eyes. “He’s wonderful.”
“I don’t know much about the Trumble place,” Frank said. “Do you have a fenced yard up there?”
“No.”
“Oh. So you have him chained to a dog house.”
“I don’t have a dog house.” She angled a questioning glance at Jared. “And he’s not chained to anything.”
Frank tilted his head and blinked as if trying to draw her into focus. “I know you’re sitting back a ways, but you can’t just let him run free. Eventually, he’ll be out on the road again.”
Dee’s spine stiffened, and a hiss escaped her lips. She may be new at pet ownership, but she wasn’t an idiot. “I would never let him near the road.”
Frank slid a finger up his temple and swiped at a fat bead of sweat. “So how are you keeping him at the house?”
Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set Page 238