by Anne Stuart
“It’s our anniversary,” the woman said as her husband hovered near her head. He knelt beside her with great effort and held her hand. “Fifty-six years,” she said. “And don’t worry, Morton, I’m not going to die on you. We’re going on that cruise and nothing is going to get you out of it. It’s just a bump on the head.”
Morton held two fingers up in front of her face. “How many fingers am I holding up, Lucy?”
“I don’t know,” she replied with a laugh. “My glasses are somewhere in the tiramisu. Oh, dear. I was raised never to make a scene, but look at what I’ve done.”
“I thought it was very gracefully executed,” Umberto said. “I saw you from across the room, and thought you intended to ride the dessert cart like a skateboard.”
The woman giggled.
“Does anything hurt?” Kat asked, dabbing at the mess on the woman’s dress with a towel she’d picked up on the way out of the kitchen. “Arms and legs okay?”
“Arms and legs always feel as though someone’s hammering them from the inside.” She grinned at Kat. “But they don’t feel any worse than usual.” She frowned suddenly. “I just got a little dizzy when I got up to go to the ladies’. I skipped lunch, so I’d have a good appetite for tonight, and that probably wasn’t wise.”
“The doctor told you,” her husband scolded, “that with all your medications, you have to eat—”
“I know, Morton. I know,” she interrupted. She smiled at Kat. “He nags me, and I should yell at him, but life’s too short.”
Morton turned to Kat and said with a frown. “She’s just recovering from a tough round of chemo, and this cruise was going to be our celebration.”
“I am going on this cruise,” Lucy said with great determination, “if I have to go as ballast. Now, someone help me sit up.”
Umberto put an arm around her back to steady her, and Kat took one of Lucy’s arms while Morton took the other. She looked good, Kat thought. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes a little unfocused, but that was because of her glasses. Sure that she was steady, Kat ran back to the dessert cart and found the glasses on the floor near the mess, remarkably unharmed. She wiped them off with a clean towel and hurried back with them.
When the ambulance arrived, Lucy was looking well, except for her ruined dress, and entertaining the crowd that had gathered around her with amusing anecdotes about her long marriage to Morton and their seven children.
The paramedics insisted on taking her to the hospital for a more thorough examination, but told a very worried Morton that her pulse and blood pressure were fine.
“You have to call when you leave the hospital,” Umberto said, “and let us know how you are. We expect you back tomorrow night for dinner on us.”
Lucy’s eyes brimmed. “You know the best part about living a long time?”
“What’s that?” Kat asked.
“You get to add lovely people to your life, year after year. I’m so sorry about your dessert cart,” she said as the paramedics put her on a gurney.
“Don’t give it another thought,” Kat said.
“We’ll see you tomorrow night for that dinner,” Lucy said as they wheeled her away. Morton followed, looking awkward carrying her red satin purse.
Kat hugged her father.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Because you took such good care of her,” she replied, wiping a spot of frosting off her father’s sleeve, and off of her own, too. Lucy’s accident was a reminder that there was more to a place where people gathered than the prescribed service offered there. There was kindness, humanity, caring.
Her father accepted her praise with a modest nod. Then he asked worriedly, “Is there more dessert in the freezer?”
“We just have cookies in the freezer,” she replied. “But I’ll run to the market for ice cream. We can offer two scoops for the price of one for Valentine’s Day.”
“Go.”
Kat returned with several sinful, sumptuous flavors. Meanwhile, her father had cleaned off the dessert cart and tidied up the room. Once they resumed control of the evening, everything went as well as could be expected on a night crowded with reservations.
As Kat hostessed, bussed, helped in the kitchen, she thought about Lucy and Morton and how devoted they seemed to one another. After all those years, seven children and a bout with cancer—that had probably been almost as hard on Morton as on Lucy—their love shone brightly.
She felt small for getting angry at her father and Hal. She was still annoyed by what they’d done, but they had been guided—or misguided—by love and concern for her.
Hal hadn’t called or stopped by today. Of course, she’d told him she never wanted to see him again, so that shouldn’t be a surprise. She wondered if she called him after all the cruel things she’d said, whether he’d want to talk to her. He’d offered to pick her up at midnight on Valentine’s Day, but that was before she’d banished him from her life.
Meanwhile, couples throughout the restaurant were toasting each other with wine, gazing into each other’s eyes, sharing the two-scoops dessert. She worked through the evening with a smile hiding a fear that she’d never know that kind of devotion for herself.
Work was safer than love, so she’d dedicated herself to it in the hope that all the rules and procedures she’d established would fill the void. But nothing could replace love. Lucy knew that.
Kat did, too, actually. She’d just hated to concede to its demands. It wasn’t orderly and couldn’t be made to do what she wanted it to do. The only control she had was choosing whether or not she would give her love to someone.
That was another truth that came down on her with all the subtlety of a frying pan upside the head. It staggered her, made her ears ring, mixed up everything in her brain until she had to reconsider what she’d thought she knew. Life had been teaching her things for several days now, and she was beginning to wonder if she was going to survive the lessons.
Love wasn’t something dropped down between two people that they could accept or reject as if it was present. It was something created by two hearts and two souls seeking to come together. It could be added to, subtracted from, molded to become something that could be comfortably shared.
She found herself desperately eager to share that new knowledge with Hal. Maybe she wouldn’t wait until morning. Maybe she’d just have to share it now.
But she didn’t know where he lived. She wondered how Captain Roth would feel about being awakened in the middle of the night to give her Hal’s address.
There was no time to think about that as the evening began to wind down and couples left arm in arm, still looking into each other’s eyes, leaving little doubt about the balance of their plans for the evening.
The big cleanup and resetting of tables for tomorrow’s lunch began. Kat took time to put fresh water in all the bud vases to help the red roses her father had ordered survive as long as possible.
Then she helped bus tables, gathered up tablecloths for the laundry, and reset them with the red-and-white-checked tablecloths they used for lunch. She wondered with a suddenly amused and wiser smile when the tablecloths would arrive from Nugget.
She was wiping off chairs when the telephone rang and her father went to the desk to answer it. He held his hand over the receiver and announced happily, “Lucy’s fine! She’s on her way home. They’ll be here at seven tomorrow night!”
Kat cheered.
It was after midnight before everything was ready for tomorrow. She’d said good-night to her father and taken over his office to count the night’s take and prepare the deposit. It had been a big night and she didn’t want to leave it until tomorrow.
Besides, she wanted to telephone Hal and she needed a little time to build up the courage.
Marco and Johnny called their goodbyes through the half-open door as they left. Joseph, as the sous chef, stayed to prep for tomorrow’s lunch.
She had the deposit in the bank bag, and had a sudden, simple inspirati
on to check the phone book for Hal’s phone number when Joseph appeared in the office doorway.
She looked up to bid him good-night but stopped, the words stuck in her throat. He was tall and slender, with a long serious face and a gift for pastry that was almost divine. But he was holding a gun on her.
She had a sudden memory of Deputy Daggatt pointing a gun at her and Hal. Man! Did she suddenly look like everyone’s idea of a criminal?
He had to be kidding. That was it. She smiled. “Joseph, if you want a raise, you have to take it up with my—”
She stopped abruptly when he walked into the office and stopped directly in front of her desk, the gun aimed right between her eyes. She changed her mind. He wasn’t kidding.
“That’s right, Katarina,” he said. “Best to be quiet. Even for the woman who always knows what to say about everything. Well, you can’t do anything about this, so just give me the bag and keep still.”
She couldn’t believe this was happening. Joseph baked cakes for staff birthdays, came in early on big nights, stayed late without complaint, stood in for Marco on the occasional Monday when the chef had been out too late the night before.
She kept her hand on the money bag. What accounted for this aberrant behavior? “Are you in trouble, Joseph? Can I help you?”
He made a scornful sound. “That’d be an over-simplification.” He held out his hand. “Just give me the bag, Kat, or I’ll have to take it. I don’t have any choice.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, still holding it.
“This is a gun!” he shrieked at her. “What don’t you understand?” Then he drew a breath and went on more quietly. “Tina’s a gambler, you know that.” Tina was his wife. “She borrowed from a Burnside loan shark and when we couldn’t pay it back, I told Percanto, thinking maybe he could lend us something to satisfy the loan shark.”
What was wrong with her, she wondered, not for the first time, that she hadn’t known Percanto was anything but a nice old man?
“He lent me the money on the condition that I leave the side door of the restaurant open for him so he could get into the basement, then into the savings and loan.”
She nodded, her mouth open in surprise. She hadn’t imagined there’d been an accomplice.
“Well. When he gets out, he’s going to think I ratted him out. I paid the loan shark, but I’m using that money…” he pointed the gun at the bag “…to get me and Tina as far away from here as possible.”
“Joseph, that’s crazy. The police had planted a detective here who heard everything. He’s the reason the deal went bad, and Percanto knows that. He can’t blame you.”
“But even though I did what I was supposed to, he didn’t get the money from next door, so he’s going to want me to repay what he gave me, and I can’t!” He was growing more and more desperate as he spoke.
“But if Percanto’s business is shady loans,” she asked, puzzled, “why would he risk federal prison by trying to rob a savings and loan?”
Joseph shrugged. “Something to do with a loan of his own, I think. The higher up the food chain you get, the nastier they are. Now, Kat. I’m not going to ask you again!”
“Joseph, calm down,” she said, getting to her feet. He braced his stance and pulled back the hammer.
Afraid she was a dead woman, she closed her eyes and thought back to the crashed plane and the long hours she’d spent curled into Hal’s chest.
“I love you, Hal,” she whispered, feeling that was a good thought to go out on.
She opened her eyes abruptly when she was jostled back against her desk during a sudden commotion. Hal was grappling with Joseph, Captain Roth and Kat’s father standing behind him as though waiting to see if they were needed.
But Hal pinned Joseph to the floor in a remarkably efficient move, then cuffed him. Two officers appeared to take Joseph away.
“Wait!” Kat pleaded for him. “He didn’t mean me any harm. He…”
Hal waved them away. “We heard everything,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“His wife gambled all their—”
Hal gave her a small shake. “I heard all that. I want to know if you’re all right.”
Her father stepped up beside Hal. “I’m going right down to the station to put in a good word for him, maybe put up bail, see what I can do to help. Now, please. Answer Hal’s question.”
Kat smiled and wrapped her arms around her father. “I’m fine. He was just desperate. I’m sure he wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“He was holding a gun on you,” Hal disputed. “And the next time someone wants your money or your life, give them the damned money!”
“We slaved for that money!” she argued, fully expecting argument in return. That seemed to be the kind of relationship they had.
“Yeah, well, now I’m a slave to my love for you,” Hal said quietly, his eyes assuring her he meant every word. “So think twice about your safety from now on.”
While she stared at Hal in surprise, her father kissed her cheek. “I’m gone. See you in the morning.” He turned to shake hands with Hal. “Thank you, Son. Again, you came through for me.”
“Sure. I’ll see you in the morning, too. We have things to talk about,” he said, giving Kat a meaningful look that held a promise she couldn’t quite understand.
Her father and the captain left and Kat stood alone in the office with the man she’d been so sure would never want to see her again. Yet, here he was. Because it was his job? That last declaration hadn’t sounded like it, but she’d just been held at gunpoint—again! Her brain was unraveling. In this state of mind, what did she know?
“I don’t understand,” she said simply.
He nodded, his manner suddenly professional. Oh, no.
“We figured out that somebody left a door open for Percanto, but when Percanto wouldn’t roll on him, we had to figure out who it was. Joseph, with his wife’s problem, was the logical choice.”
“But, how did you know about her?”
“We picked up the guy she owes money to a couple of weeks ago on an assault charge, and got his list of ‘clients.’ She owes him big time.”
“And again…” she said in a softly scolding tone because she really wasn’t up to being angry, “you didn’t tell me.”
“You weren’t speaking to me.” He caught her arms and drew her toward him. His eyes ran over her face in a warm sweep that brought about that cursed tingle. It made it hard for her to think. “So, I thought if I used you for bait, rather than sent you away to someplace safe, you’d like that.”
She had to smile. She had that coming.
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “You were safe every minute. I’ve been here since you arrived. Hot dress, I might add.” He held her away to look at her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him back to her, the love in his eyes destroying all her doubts. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Didn’t he know it. He’d been watching her heart-shaped little backside in the red dress all evening long. “Then…will you be mine?”
She kissed his mouth with slow, lingering promise. “I thought I already was.”
“I want your lips to tell me.”
So she kissed him again.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4877-9
DATE WITH A DEVIL
Copyright © 2004 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
BLIND DATE FROM HELL
Copyright © 2003 by Anne Stuart
DANCE WITH THE DEVIL
Copyright © 2003 by Cherry Wilkinson
HAL AND DAMNATION
Copyright © 2003 by Muriel Jensen
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