by Fiona West
“How do you know I won't exact my revenge for our breakup?” She drew circles in the condensation on her glass with her thumb, letting it trickle down the glass.
“Because I know you, Ms. Lopez. You're a professional. You wouldn't do anything to my mom.”
“True.” She kicked a foot gently against his stool. “Do you have any conditions?”
Was that surprise on his face? Why shouldn't this go both ways? She shouldn't be the only one who got to dictate how things would be.
“I...I'm just so relieved you agreed to take the job, I don't think I deserve to put any conditions on it.”
She lifted her hand to place it over his, then remember her own rule: no incidental touching. Harder than it looked, really.
“Of course you do,” she said, flipping her part to the other side of her head with her one hand. “Come on. There must be something you want or don't want.”
“Honestly, I...I don't know. I don't think so.” He was staring down into his lager, which bubbled quietly. “I'm fine with whatever.”
Crash's easy smile was missing. She realized she hadn't heard him laugh even once since she'd seen him at his house. “It's been a hard few months for you, hasn't it?” Damn it, they'd been together twenty minutes, and she was already plowing through the caution signs she'd set up for herself. Stop it. Stick to the plan. Stop...caring.
“I can't talk about this with you.”
“You can if it's part of your mother's care.”
“Ms. Lopez, I asked for you because it would comfort my mother.” God, that sounded awful in his mouth. When someone's lips have kissed you, your professional name suddenly became repulsive falling from them. “I need your help, I do. And I knew you would want to help us if you could, because that's the kind of person you are. But honestly, I don't think I need to draw a lot of boundaries around our professional relationship, because I won't be around much. I'll pay you on time, through the agency. I know that the relationship that we had is gone now. I don't like it, but I know it.” He took a long pull on his beer. “My therapist says it's good to accept things as they are, not as you want them to be. So I'm not trying to trick you or mislead you; I just need your help. And lucky for me, I can afford it.” He turned to her more fully. “But if this is going to make you uncomfortable, I understand if you want to turn the job down.”
“No...” He'd never been a bad guy; they'd just wanted different things. Different things that he hadn't bothered to clarify when she was talking about their future together...had he been selfish? Yes. He was still being selfish, really. Only a selfish person would ask their ex for such a personal favor. “No, it's all right. I'll take the job.” At the same time, it was a job, not a favor. What was the worst case? He'd make a pass at her, and she'd have every right to tell Cindy that she wanted a new assignment.
No, her mind commented loudly, the worst case is that he makes a pass at you, and you don't stop him, because you're lonely and you're still in love with him. A new boyfriend would be essential, she'd already decided, just so that she had more incentive not to cheat with Crash. She'd never been unfaithful to a boyfriend. She wasn't going to start now. But ending up back in a relationship with him, as her employer? Cindy had already made it clear that was not an option. So she'd find another outlet for her romantic intentions...just a fling. Something to keep her mind off him.
“Here's the thing,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “I want someone with real medical knowledge; lots of people can make sure she doesn't fall in the bath and wipe her mouth. I want someone who can make medical decisions, treatment decisions. I don't want her going back to the hospital; I mean, she can go see her neurologist when needed. But people are much more likely to die from a secondary infection during a hospital stay, and I don't want her to have to be hospitalized. So your role is going to be preventative as well.”
“Well, I do have my Master's—”
“I know. And here's the last thing: I'm going to pay you what you're worth.”
She sat up straighter. Her debts weren't drowning her, but she was treading water a little. Her father had paid for her undergrad, but she'd refused him for her master's out of pride. It was a decision she was proud of, looking back. But the way he was talking now made her nervous.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Cindy and I came up with a number, and you're not going to argue about it.”
“But I don't have any real experience yet...”
“I don't care. You have the experience I care about, and that's a relationship with my mom that has positive associations for her. And your education makes you very valuable to me as an employee.”
“I see. And what number is this?”
He did smile then, just half of one, just a hint of it, really, the left side of his mouth hitching up. “You'll find out when you get paid.” He drained the rest of his drink and dropped a twenty on the bar. “Thanks, Annie,” he called, then turned to Martina. “Can I walk you to your car?”
“No, I think I'll stay for a while.”
Crash frowned a little, then shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you Monday.”
“Okay.” As she watched him walk away, she couldn't help but shake her head. She'd walked in here so ready to lay down the law with him...and now, all that fire was gone. Dust. Cold. Crash was broken. And if there was anything Martina couldn't stand, it was watching someone she cared about be broken.
“Didn't think I'd ever see you two back here together again...” Annie said, her voice low under the chatter of the game on the TV.
“Me neither.” Martina wiped her mouth. “But it wasn't a date. This is just business.”
“Uh-huh. Is that why he paid Gray and Booker $20 to move somewhere else?”
She sighed, letting her head fall to her arms. “This is a mistake, isn't it?” Martina was all about learning from experience, she just preferred that it be someone else's experience. Making her own mistakes wasn't her first choice, or even her fourth or fifth choice. Too bad Crash was the biggest mistake I ever made.
“Couldn't say,” Annie mused. “Though I do see a lot of people make mistakes here. You'd think I'd be an expert by now.”
Martina snickered. She'd take a distraction right now, and her imagination was sent spinning with that thought in mind. “What's the most romantic thing that ever happened here?”
The barmaid dried her hands, her gaze thoughtful. “I don't know that romance is really happening around here. Not like you mean it, anyway.”
“Oh, come on,” Martina pressed. “No engagements because they had their first date here? No long-lost loves finding each other again?”
“You read too much People magazine,” Annie said, grinning. “Well, I take that back...”
“Yes?” She pressed forward, putting her chin in her hands and her elbows on the bar like Annie was about to tell a fairy tale.
“I'm pretty sure Darby Ferris and Shane Billingham hooked up in the back of her four runner a few months ago.”
Martina stuck out her tongue. “That's old news, she delivered their baby a year ago.”
Annie's eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really? Last I heard, we didn't know who the daddy was...”
Martina pulled her lips to the side. Her friend Winnie had delivered the baby, which is the only way she knew Shane had been there.
“Well, let me rephrase that: he was there when Bailey was born. I guess I don't for sure she’s his.”
“Seems pretty likely, though.”
“Don't tell anybody, okay?”
“Tell them what?” Annie asked innocently, then gave Martina a wink as she moved down to the other side of the bar where Gray was signaling her. Martina brushed away the guilt she felt about spreading gossip; it wasn't a HIPAA violation or anything, but she should know better. Sometimes the news was just too good: it was just too tempting to let secrets spill out. And even this bit of juicy gossip had her thinking...she didn't know Darby was still seeing Shane. Last she knew, she was try
ing to do the single mom thing all by her lonesome, and it wasn't going all that well. She had moved back in with her mom a few weeks ago. Martina felt her gaze drifting to the TV.
“Oh, come on,” she yelled in unison with half the bar as a 49ers defender took down a Browns cornerback in what was clearly a flagrant horse collar. “That's a no call? Seriously? You've got to be kidding me...” She wouldn’t mind if the Browns won, since it would weaken the 49er’s record against the Seahawks in November. Then again, they were going to meet the Browns next week in Cleveland, so it wouldn’t hurt for them to be demoralized. The Seahawks historically didn’t do as well on the road.
Right now, any distraction was welcome. Anything so that she didn’t have to think about what working for her ex was going to be like.
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Acknowledgments
TO MY EDITORIAL TEAM at Salt and Sage: you all rock. I can’t say it enough: your professionalism, straight-up knowledge of your genres, and kindness make this so much easier.
To my critique partner, Angela Boord: thanks for ‘getting’ my work and assuring me that I can make it as good as it can be.
To my copy editor, Jessica Gardner: Thank you for sharing your expertise with me! I’m still floored by all the rules you know. All those tiny corrections take my diamond in the rough and polish it up!
To my cover artist, Erin O’Neill-Jones: Wow. Just wow. I still can’t get over how you’ve captured these characters! Thanks for all your hard work on this.
Gratitude also to Michael McCreary for his book Funny, You Don’t Look Autistic for giving me insight into an autistic person’s mind.
And last, but certainly not least, thank you to my CFO, Mr. West. You are the peanut butter to my jelly.
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