Dare to Stay (Puppy Love Romances Book 3)
Page 6
Her grandmother’s voice sounded in her head as clearly as if she’d been standing next to her, and Jessica obeyed, stopping next to her car and looking up. The night was clear and crisp, and this far out of the city, the stars were a glowing mass of sparkles against the deep indigo background of the sky, like tiny diamonds on a velvet pillow. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with fresh air, then let it out slowly and climbed into her car.
Most people drove out of the city after work, but for Jessica, it was the opposite and she liked it that way. The shelter was several miles outside the city limits, technically in the suburbs, but it felt like the country. Her home, however, was in the city, her apartment the entire top two floors of an old Victorian house in the Shopwalk District of downtown. She had a renter in the apartment on the first floor, and she owned the house outright, thanks to her grandparents. She didn’t make a huge income at the shelter—she preferred to put the money back into it when she could—so having the house as an investment was helpful.
Also helpful was its proximity to Bucky’s Bar and Grill. The thought of Javier’s cream of mushroom soup sent Jessica’s stomach growling again as she slid her car into her designated spot in the three-car garage behind her house. Knowing if she went inside, she’d get too comfortable to leave again—and also knowing there was no food in there for her to whip up something quickly—she transferred her laptop bag to the trunk of her car, grabbed her purse, and walked the block and a half to Bucky’s.
The bar was busy, unsurprising for 10:30 on a Saturday night. Tucked in the back corner was Velvet Jazz, a local band that featured three men on instruments and a woman who sounded almost like Diana Krall if you closed your eyes. They were closing in on the end of “Cry Me a River” when Jessica made eye contact with Henry Buck, bartender, owner, and friend of Jessica’s since she was twelve.
“Jessie,” he called as he rimmed a glass with a lemon and slid it in front of a customer.
Jessica grinned and waved. Nobody else had ever called her Jessie except her grandmother, so there was something warm and comforting about this silver-haired man who knew her so well referring to her by that name. There was an empty barstool in the very corner of the bar and she took it, hanging her bag on the hook underneath and making herself comfortable. Before she even finished settling in, a dirty vodka martini with three olives appeared like magic.
“Aw, you know just how to make a girl feel good, Uncle Henry,” she said with a grin.
“You look like you could use it,” Henry said, his voice gentle even over the sound of the band. “You eat?”
Jessica shook her head and Henry looked unsurprised.
“Soup?”
“Love some.”
Henry knocked on the bar, gave her a wink, and went to his computer where he punched in some instructions. Jessica knew Javier, the chef, would receive the order in the kitchen in the back. Henry might have been in his seventies, but he made sure to keep Bucky’s up to date with the latest in bar and restaurant equipment, a computer system to manage his sales, and a state-of-the-art sound system. There was a reason he’d been in business for nearly forty years. Jessica watched with love as Henry sidled around Kim, the other bartender working tonight.
Jessica took a sip of her martini, felt the gentle burn as the alcohol coursed down her throat, felt the warmth as it coated her stomach. Immediately, she began to relax, not realizing she’d been a little wound up until that very moment. Summer was fast approaching, the busiest time of year for them next to Christmas. The telethon would be upon them before she knew it, and she was more nervous than usual, given all the changes. The kennels weren’t full, but they were fuller than she liked to see them, and the telethon brought in their biggest chunk of money the whole year, so she was having a love/hate relationship with it right now.
Shaking the work thoughts out of her head, she looked around the bar, subtly bopping her head to the original song Velvet Jazz was playing now. The lighting was dim except for over the band, but Jessica could make out some of the regulars. Bucky’s drew an interesting mix of people. Some were older, friends of Henry’s who’d been coming here for decades. Some were younger professionals who appreciated going to a bar that wasn’t blasting rap or classic rock, a bar that wasn’t full of college-age kids drinking cheap beer as quickly as possible. Bucky’s was a classy joint, as Henry used to tell her when she was a kid, and he was right. It still was.
Henry slid a paper placemat under her drink and gave her a rolled-up napkin with silverware in it, left, then returned with a big, steaming bowl of Javier’s famous cream of mushroom soup. The aroma wafted up from the bowl, enveloping Jessica in one of the smells of her childhood. Javier had worked for Henry ever since Jessica could remember and she’d eaten his soup just as long.
The first spoonful was like an elixir of peace and instantly, she felt better. She spooned in a second bite, picked up her napkin, and dabbed at the corner of her mouth as she glanced down the bar to the opposite end from where she sat.
And locked eyes with Sydney Taylor.
The whole bar seemed to fade away for a moment so that all Jessica could see were those eyes. Even though she was too far away to see the color, her memory filled in the blanks and that deep-sea blue-green held her gaze for a long moment until Sydney raised her beer glass in a silent salute.
“Damn it,” Jessica muttered, refocusing on her soup. What was Sydney Taylor doing here? In her neighborhood? In her bar, for God’s sake? She continued to eat, but knew it would be rude not to acknowledge Sydney any further. When she looked back up, Sydney was no longer watching her. Instead, she was engaged in a conversation with a good-looking bald man. Judging by the way three other men at a table several yards away were watching, Jessica guessed there was a bet in place. Or a challenge. Sydney was on television and was most likely recognized often. She watched, amused, and worked on her soup. The bald guy leaned close, said something near Sydney’s ear, and she threw her head back and laughed. Jessica couldn’t pull her eyes away from that delicate expanse of throat. Even in the dim lighting, she could see enough to make her swallow hard, reach for her glass, and finish off her drink.
Concentrating on eating her food, she didn’t look up again until she’d finished all the soup, and at that point, Sydney’s seat had been vacated, the bald man back with his posse, sans new date. She sighed, unable to decide if she was disappointed or relieved, then picked up the large plastic pick from her empty glass, put it between her teeth, and pulled the last olive free.
“Come here often?”
Jessica stopped mid-chew as the timbre of Sydney’s voice registered much too close to her ear, and her brain tossed her the image of standing close to her, their hands linked, their bodies pressed together as they pet a horse. She finished the olive, swallowed, and turned to meet those eyes with her own.
“I didn’t want to leave without saying hello,” Sydney added, her smile warm and seemingly genuine.
“Hello,” Jessica said, forcing a smile in return. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Which was as close as she could come to saying “what the hell are you doing in my favorite place?” without being a bitch.
“This is my first time, but I really like it.” Sydney looked around the bar as if maintaining eye contact with Jessica was uncomfortable. “My apartment is only two blocks away, so I walked. I was sort of exploring the area this afternoon and saw this place. I decided I’d grab a drink.” She glanced at Jessica’s empty bowl. “A little late for dinner, don’t you think?”
Her tone was gently teasing, and Jessica felt her own fake smile soften into something less artificial. “Occupational hazard. I tend to lose track of time at work.”
“You were at the shelter this late?” Sydney’s beautiful eyes widened.
“Happens all the time,” came a deeper voice, and they both looked up to see Henry clearing away Jessica’s place setting. “She works way too hard.” He gave her a look that had Jessica blushing and Sydney grinning.<
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“Your dad?” Sydney asked as Henry winked.
“Not technically, but close enough.” Jessica raised her voice on the last three words and saw Henry chuckle as he walked away with her dishes. He was replaced with Kim, who asked them if they wanted another round.
“Oh, no,” Sydney said before Jessica could answer. “I’m on my way out. I just wanted to make sure I said hi.” She laid a warm hand on Jessica’s upper arm and gave it a gentle squeeze, and Jessica felt as if it left a heated imprint on her skin, a glowing pink outline of Sydney’s hand. “It was nice to see you.”
“You, too,” Jessica said, a little surprised that she now meant it.
With a smile, Sydney turned away and left the bar. Jessica watched her go and when she turned back to the bar, Kim was still standing there. She lifted her brows expectantly.
“Yes,” Jessica said with a nod, trying to get her bearings and having no idea where they’d gone. “I’ll take another. Please.”
*
Once out in the night air, Sydney blew out a breath, only then realizing she’d been tensed up and doing her best to stay aloof and professional. Seeing Jessica Barstow across the bar had thrown her and she didn’t like that. It was pretty obvious from Jessica’s less-than-warm hello that she didn’t like it either. Seemed like she might be a regular there, the way the staff appeared to know her so well, so Sydney wondered if she should steer clear of Bucky’s from now on.
The Shopwalk’s streets were busy, bustling with the young crowd that tends to be out and about on a Saturday night after eleven. Sydney pulled herself together, turned to her left, and started walking, enjoying the sights of brightly lit bars and restaurants, the sounds of various live bands and jukeboxes coming out open doorways, and the smells of food from the kitchens that remained open at this hour. Her thoughts returned to Bucky’s. And Jessica. Sydney liked the bar. She liked the feel of it, the atmosphere, the cleanliness, how the staff was friendly and kind, not brusque or hurried. She’d only been hit on once and the guy was very nice, very gracious when she gently shot him down. Though not terribly familiar with jazz, she’d always enjoyed the rhythm of it, so the live music was a bonus. And the crowd there seemed a bit more…sophisticated than bars she’d experienced in the past with people her age, ones filled with drunken men and overly made-up women, each trying unsuccessfully to flirt with the other. It was so not Sydney’s speed, something her friends endlessly teased her about. Laura liked to tell her she was an old soul. Sometimes, Sydney enjoyed that moniker. Other times, she found it insulting.
Sidling past a group of laughing twenty-somethings, Sydney located her street sign and turned down her block, and her mind—annoyingly—took her back to the subject of Jessica Barstow. Sydney had watched her for a long time before Jessica noticed her. And she’d enjoyed it. Jessica, relaxed and comfortable, was really nice to watch. It told Sydney that maybe—maybe—there was more to her than abruptness and a cool demeanor. Watching her smile—really smile—when she talked to the older guy bartending was kind of a surprise. It was a different kind of smile than Sydney had seen so far. It was soft and tender and genuine. And it reached her eyes, crinkled them at the corners a bit, made her entire face seem to relax into contentedness. It wasn’t businesslike and brittle like the smiles she’d been on the receiving end of.
At the front steps of her house, Sydney made a scoffing sound. Why was she agonizing over the way a business contact smiled around her? I mean, that’s what you do in business. You act like a business professional. She trudged up the lobby stairs, the entire house quiet, much to her delight, and only then did she realize that she’d never actually run into a business acquaintance outside of work. That must be what had thrown her off a bit. She slid her key into the lock and pushed the door open.
Yeah. That must be it.
CHAPTER SIX
A glance at the clock on her office wall told Jessica it was quarter to eight in the evening. She was bone tired, so exhausted she was pretty sure if she put her head down on her desk, she’d be out like a light in mere seconds. But that wasn’t going to happen because she had one more appointment.
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath as she pushed herself up from her desk and headed out to the front doors. The earlier phone conversation had not gone as she’d expected.
“Sydney? It’s Jessica Barstow at Junebug. I’m afraid I need to reschedule our one o’clock today. I apologize. It’s been totally chaotic here, and I have to take care of some unexpected issues immediately.”
“That’s no problem at all.” Sydney’s voice was professional and Jessica found herself thinking back to Saturday night in Bucky’s when she’d been so much more relaxed. “When’s a good time?”
“You know, I’m going to be here for a while tonight, if you’re interested in coming after hours. Otherwise, Thursday would work for me.” If you’re interested in coming after hours? Why did I say that?
“Television news has no office hours.” Sydney’s reply came with a gentle chuckle and Jessica found herself smiling. “I could do eight, no problem. I think Connor’s got something tonight, though, so it would just be me. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine. Anna will be gone as well, so it’ll just be the two of us. The doors will be locked, as we close at six on Tuesdays, so just text me when you get here. Okay?”
“Sounds great. See you tonight.”
They’d hung up and Jessica had sat staring at the phone in her hand, wondering who had body snatched her and had that conversation with Sydney Taylor. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) there hadn’t been time to dwell on it, as Animal Control was bringing them six dogs seized from a suspected dogfighting ring. Always dicey—and sometimes dangerous—it took all hands on deck much of the time to get these types of dogs settled in and calmed. Today had been no exception and she felt emotionally drained from the ordeal. Lisa had only headed home fifteen minutes ago and she looked just as wrung out as Jessica felt.
Through the front doors, she saw Sydney Taylor get out of her car and head toward her, a messenger bag slung over her shoulder and a paper bag in her hand. Her heels clicked loudly in the quiet of the parking lot. Jessica pushed the door open for her and held it. “Thank you for meeting me,” she said, her voice sounding more tired than she meant.
“It’s no problem,” Sydney said, her usual, cool smile in place.
“You could have changed into more comfortable clothes,” Jessica commented, taking in the red skirt, black-and-white silk top, and heels, hoping she wasn’t staring, but enjoying the outfit in a big way. “Not that you don’t look great, but it’s just us.” She shifted her gaze to the door, irritated with herself for letting that slip. What the hell, Jess? She turned the lock and the deadbolt on the front door snapped home.
“Oh, no, I’m still working, so I’m still wearing my work clothes,” Sydney replied, her voice matter-of-fact.
Jessica gave a subtle nod and indicated Sydney should follow her. Suit yourself, she thought, happy in her jeans.
“I haven’t seen this office,” Sydney commented as they went down a small hall into Jessica’s private office.
“Welcome to the Inner Sanctum,” Jessica said, waving her arms like one of the models on The Price is Right. “I don’t usually meet with people here—that’s what the conference room is for—but I’m so tired tonight, I need my chair. I hope that’s okay.”
“You’re the boss,” Sydney said, looking around.
Jessica watched as, rather than sit, Sydney set her bags down, then went to the far wall where six 9x12 frames were lined up, each showcasing a letter Jessica had received from a client or customer or child thanking her for whatever animal they took home. Some were drawn in crayon.
“Wow,” Sydney said, then her glance dropped to the table below the frames to the pile of additional letters. “Are these all thank yous?” she asked, those gorgeous eyes wide on Jessica’s face.
Jessica felt her face warm and she shrugged and sat behind
her desk. “Regina comes in and switches them up every month or so. She thinks it’s good for me.”
“To know how grateful other people are for what you do?”
Jessica nodded.
“I agree with Regina.” Sydney cocked her head as she studied Jessica. “Does that embarrass you?”
“No.”
“The current color of your face says differently.” Sydney said it lightly, though. Gently. Kindly enough that it didn’t make Jessica feel weird. Or exposed.
“Well. It’s just my job.”
“Your job makes people ridiculously happy, you know. That’s a pretty amazing thing.”
Had her brain just completely short-circuited from the day? Jessica wondered this because she had no words. No comeback. Nothing to counter what this very hot young woman in front of her was saying. She simply…looked at her. Come on, brain. Make words. Make. Words.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sydney asked, approaching the desk. She braced her hands on the surface and looked closely at Jessica’s face. “You look…worn out.”
“Oh,” Jessica said. “Well. Thanks for that.”
Sydney laughed. “Maybe I can help.” She crossed the room to the chair and picked up the paper bag. “I brought dinner. I hope that’s okay. I haven’t eaten and you sounded a little frazzled on the phone, so I took a wild guess that you hadn’t either.” She proceeded to pull out two wrapped sub sandwiches from Marletto’s Italian Deli. “I’ve got tuna and turkey. I hope you like at least one of them.” She looked up then, snagged Jessica’s gaze with those mesmerizing blue-green eyes of hers, and smiled hesitantly.
“You brought me dinner?” Jessica watched her nod slowly. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” She snatched up the tuna sub, unwrapped it, and took a bite, all in one smooth move. Holding a hand in front of her mouth as she chewed, she said, “Oh, my God. I could kiss you right now.”
The only thing that made her replay that line in her mind was the slight raising of Sydney’s eyebrows to go along with her lopsided grin. Jessica cleared her throat and continued to chew as Sydney unwrapped her own sub and settled in.