by Mia Carson
“Mum’s the word,” Walter promised. “It’s been a quiet morning so far. The only phone call has been from Johnny Tory checking that he absolutely has to come in for the meeting tomorrow morning.”
“I’m assuming you told him he does.”
“Yes. He sounded quite nervous. Are you sure you want to see him?”
“I don’t have a choice. I need to hear his side of events and figure out what’s going on with this contract between him and Anna,” Harold explained. He wouldn’t admit he also wanted to look this man in the face and gloat that Anna was back with him and not with the sniveling landlord who tried to win her over when she was drunk. “No calls from Terrance Tory?”
“None yet, sir, but I have another number to try today. I’ll keep you posted. And tell Ms. Crawley I said hello.”
“I will…wait, what?” Harold asked. “How did you know?”
“Intuition, sir,” he teased. “Your secret is safe with me, but I must say one day with her and you already sound happier. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, tomorrow morning,” Harold replied softly and hung up.
The water ran in the bathroom. He pictured the droplets running down Anna’s naked skin and bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the urge to join her. He needed to shower, too, and then they had to get some sort of plan formulated for how to proceed with her case. As much as he wanted to ignore the rest of the world outside his front door, he had a job to do in order to save the woman he loved from ending up in jail or losing her bar.
He waited for her to finish in the bathroom and darted in to take a quick shower. His hair damp but the rest of him clean and dry, he tugged on a pair of jeans and black t-shirt, and wondered where Anna had gone to. He smelled coffee, and the scent of bacon wafted upstairs to greet him. He hurried to the kitchen and smiled when he saw her wearing her tight jeans and tank with no bra. She sat on the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee and swinging her legs. Seeing her like that took him back to the first time they were together.
“I thought you would enjoy some bacon,” she mused.
“A man always enjoys bacon,” he replied and sauntered to her, kissing the tip of her nose. The skull necklace hung around her neck, and he lifted the charm with his fingers. “You kept it.”
“I couldn’t bear to get rid of it,” she murmured. “It reminded me of the good times we had.”
He kissed it and dropped it back to her chest, flushed with color from them being so close, but he had to focus on business now, not how many different ways he could make love to her in the kitchen. Once he had a full mug of coffee and a plate filled with bacon and toast, he sat on the opposite counter. Her brows shot up to her hairline and he shrugged. “What?”
“My, Harry, how much you’ve changed. Sitting on your kitchen counters? What would your mother think?”
“Eh, this is my house, not hers,” he answered. “I recall someone telling me that a long time ago.” He picked at his toast as his stomach roiled, his appetite gone. “I’m sorry, Anna, for all the shit I put you through back then. I was an idiot.”
“We both had our moments,” she admitted. “I wasn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with. I judged you pretty harshly.”
“I gave you reason to,” he said, ashamed of his behavior towards her. “I knew that night I went after you, I should’ve gone inside. I should’ve begged you to come back with me so we could work this out. I spent a week trying to convince myself that I could live without you, but I was lying to myself. I went to the bar and watched you through the rain, drinking at the bar.” He tore up a piece of toast, seeing that night as clear as if it happened last night. “You looked in as much pain as I was, but no matter how much I told myself to go in and talk to you, to make it work, I couldn’t get my feet to move. I was a coward.”
He heard her slip off the counter, and her hands appeared on either side of his legs on the counter. Her toes with their bright purple nail polish made him grin. His mother would never use such a loud color, so full of life.
“For six months, I told myself it was your fault I pushed you away, your fault I felt like shit, and all along it was because of me,” he muttered darkly. “I’m sorry.”
She shoved his plate aside and hopped up on the island beside him. Her head rested on his shoulder and she clasped his hand in hers. “I forgave you a long time ago, believe it or not. I was sorry for you more than anything, sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to stick by your side and keep pushing you to be the man I saw glimpses of.”
They sat in his kitchen, a room he was not fond of after she had left, taking all the happiness with her of late morning breakfasts, midnight snacks, and crazy dinners where they would get in food fights while they cooked. Anna brightened his life with her crooked grin and deep laughter he longed to hear at all times of the day. His arm draped over her shoulders and she sank against his side. How he thought this was not the perfect life for him, he would never know. To be so easily swayed by people who claimed to know what was best for him had him mentally kicking himself. All that time without Anna was wasted, and he would never get it back.
This day, right now, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let another moment be wasted with the woman he loved.
“I guess we should talk about the case,” she said after a few minutes.
“I think our best course of action at this point is to go with your original idea.”
“Idea? Remind me what this idea was and whether it was ingenious.”
“Of proving Johnny set you up. You’re not a bad person, and I won’t let him tarnish your name by claiming you beat him with a bat,” he grunted.
“I won’t say I never thought about it,” she added in an undertone.
“Please don’t let anyone else hear you say that. We’re already walking on shaky ground,” he warned her and slid off the counter. “If he really is after your bar, then our only other chance might be getting ahold of his uncle.”
“Have you tried yet?” she asked hopeful.
“I have Walter working on it right now, but so far, nothing. He’s left messages, but until we hear back, we’re kind of stuck. If we could figure out who the man was we saw at your place we might have something to work with, but…what?” he asked when she nibbled her bottom lip and cringed.
She held up her hands. “Don’t hate me. I meant to tell you this Tuesday, but things got a little heated and it sort of slipped my mind.”
“What?”
“Missy reminded me of one of Johnny’s friends. A jackass really, but he used to be a UFC fighter.”
“And what does this have to do with your case?” he asked slowly.
“He tried to train Johnny a few months back, and he constantly came in with his face beaten up and bruised,” Anna said. “Missy wondered if he could be involved.”
“You think Johnny had his friend come over and beat the crap out of him?” he asked skeptically, but then again, there was still no explanation for what happened to Anna while at Johnny’s apartment, or her place being broken into a few days later. The situation was too coincidental for them not to be connected somehow. “Do you remember this guy’s name?”
Anna hung her head, swinging her legs. “No, that’s the problem. Josh, or Jimmy maybe?”
“I guess I could ask Johnny tomorrow when I meet with him.”
“Are you crazy? Don’t do that. He might sic this guy on you next, and I don’t want to find you beaten up or in the hospital, Harry,” she stormed. “Not happening.”
His chest swelled to feel her love for him and hearing her care so much about his wellbeing after thinking for so long she’d hated him. “All right, I won’t ask him. I’ll have Walter search for him too. Does he live in New Hampshire?”
“He did, but it’s been a while since we’ve seen him.” She crossed her arms and glared at the wall behind Harold. “I hated having him around. All he did was hit on Missy and me, and tell Johnny repeatedly how women fawned over h
im because he was a fighter.”
“Clearly he didn’t know you too well,” Harold said.
“No, he did not. Do you think you can find him?”
“I’ll try anything I can to save you and your bar.”
He mulled over a few ideas but tossed each one aside. She would never agree to him simply buying the building out from under Johnny. Anna was smart, but she had a prideful streak, not that she didn’t have a right to. She’d worked her ass off for seven years to keep The Crawler going. Buying it with her hard-earned money was her goal. She’d told him about it plenty of times before. Anna had spent her childhood in that bar, sitting on the counter as she did her homework and solving the riddles her dad made up for her. Harold was jealous of the fun-loving relationship she’d had with Winston. His own father didn’t spend time with Harold unless it was to bring him to the office and show him the ins and outs of the family business time and again. His father had turned him into a stiff, arrogant, cold-hearted bastard. Winston raised Anna to be loving and caring and to fight for those she loved, him included. The time had come for him to return the favor.
“Harry? You alright?” she asked, her hand resting on his shoulder.
“I’m good, just thinking about the future.”
“Don’t do that. It’ll make your head hurt,” she warned with a mischievous grin.
“Not when it involves you,” he said softly and rested his arms on either side of her legs, tilting his face to kiss her. “I don’t want you hating me if this goes south.”
“It won’t,” she insisted. “I trust you, Harry. We’ll figure this out.”
He wished he could be as hopeful. The break-in to her apartment helped, but he worried Johnny had more schemes up his sleeves to take everything from Anna. If he couldn’t figure out what that asshole was up to, he could be caught off-guard by whatever he threw at Anna next.
“Let’s spend the day running through the facts again,” he said. “I want to make sure I’m prepared for tomorrow morning.”
“What time is he coming in?”
“Anna, you are not making a surprise visit to my office,” he warned.
“I never said I was going to do anything of the sort,” she said in the most unconvincing tone he’d ever heard from her.
“Anna.”
“Oh, all right, but you better call me after he leaves and let me know what he says.”
“You think I would keep it from you?”
With one eyebrow arched, she said, “If you thought you were protecting me, yes.”
Harold almost argued but stopped himself before she called him out on a lie. “As long as you don’t show up, I’ll tell you every word he says. Deal?” he asked and held out his hand.
She rolled her eyes but slipped hers into his. “Deal.”
“Good, then let’s get this day started—unless you need to head to the bar?”
“I called Missy while you were showering. She told me in very concise and loud sentences that if I showed up at the bar today, she would kick my ass to the curb,” Anna informed him. “Apparently, she has also forgiven you.”
“Good, that’s good.”
She frowned as she hopped off the counter. “Why do you sound scared?” Harold rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. “Does Missy scare you?” she asked, amused. “Oh, Harry, you know I’d never let her hurt you…much.”
“Thanks, that’s comforting,” he said as he nuzzled her neck, kissing her until she giggled and squealed in his arms.
“I thought we were going to do some work?” she protested as he continued his tickling attacks.
“We’ll get there eventually.” He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder, and carried her upstairs and back to bed.
Chapter 9
“If you keep staring at the clock like that, the glass is going to crack,” Pat muttered.
Anna stuck her tongue out at him and turned her back on the ticking hands. “Johnny should be at Harold’s office soon. I just want to know what the asshole says to him.”
“He said he would report everything back to you, and I’m sure he will.” He tossed her a towel. “Keep yourself busy. Go clean something, or take inventory. But stop standing there looking like you’re going to murder the poor antique clock.”
Snapping the towel out, she wiped at a smudge on the bar and moved on to the next until it was spotless. They weren’t open yet, so there were no customers to tend to. She strode around the bar, her heavy boots clomping loudly with each step. Music, she needed music to drown out her racing thoughts for a few more hours. Pat said he was headed into the kitchen to help Daryl with lunch prep, and Anna reached up to the computer they played music from for the bar. She skimmed through the playlists and settled on some Disturbed she could blast from the speakers for the next hour until they opened.
She sang along with the words, wiping down tables and straightening chairs and stools, her mind drifting from her worry about Harold alone with Johnny. The music cut off suddenly three songs in, and she whipped around to yell at Pat for killing her groove, but it wasn’t him standing by the computer with a horrified look on his face.
“How on earth do you listen to that ghastly music?” Prentice Jenson snapped. She wore a tailored fur coat, and a Gucci bag hung from the crook of her elbow. “I suppose it goes with your hair.”
Anna slapped the towel over her shoulder and glowered. “We’re not open for business yet. Be a dear and see yourself out.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, not until we speak.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” Anna said, her tone as polite as possible. Did she text Harold and let him know his mother ambushed her?
“Yes, we do, if you insist on chasing after my son.”
Anna crossed her arms as her face screwed up in annoyance. “Chasing after your son? I’m not attacking him, Prentice. Your son and I have fallen in love, and if you can’t handle that, I’m not sure what to tell you. He’s nearly thirty, and I’d like to think no respecting mother would interfere with her son’s love life at that age.”
“She would if he was with a woman like you.” Prentice sniffed and her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something foul. “I will not have my son with a woman who runs a bar and dyes her hair horrendous colors.”
“I don’t know, Harry seems to really like the violet.”
Prentice’s face turned blotchy red, and Anna smirked. “Harold, his name is Harold, and you’re not going to be in his life. I won’t allow it.”
“You should be happy he’s with me,” Anna said, her words shaking with her anger barely in check. “I’m a self-sustaining woman who runs her own business, and a successful one at that.”
“You are currently being charged with assault,” Prentice snapped. “And this is a bar, not a proper business. Your father was a biker and your mother…well, the whole city knows what your mother was. She had you before she was even married, didn’t she?”
Anna’s arms fell to her side as she took a threatening step forward. “Don’t you dare talk about my parents. You have no right, none.”
The grin that spread across that old bat’s face turned Anna’s stomach. “I will do as I please because, unlike you, I have power in this city. I’ll speak with Harold this weekend at our Sunday night family dinner, the one to which you are not invited, and he’ll be informed to stay away from you once this case is finished. If you try to come after him again, you’ll wish this Johnny Tory person had ruined you instead of me. Have a good day, Anna.”
Anna was rooted to the spot as Prentice marched out of The Crawler and into the chilly January weather. She told herself she had nothing to worry about. Harold had come to his senses and changed. He would stand up to his mother this time, and they would be together.
Are you sure he’s really changed? the doubting voice in her mind chipped in. You remember how easily he turned from you last time. It could just as easily happen again, and you know you can’t handle his rejection a second time.
<
br /> “Anna? Are you alright?” Pat asked as he exited the kitchen. “Was someone here?”
“No, just me talking to myself,” she lied and forced a smile back on her face.
She turned the music back on so he wouldn’t ask any more questions and busied herself for the next hour. When the time came to open, she turned the music down to a reasonable volume and did what she was good at, taking care of her guests, yet she worried nonstop about what the next few days would bring for her and Harold. She wouldn’t let their second chance slip away easily. Prentice could make threats all she wanted, but Anna was stronger now and so was Harold. They would find a way to make their relationship work. They had to, otherwise, Anna would be left alone with a bar and no heart left to run it.
Harold heard Walter greet someone outside his office door and checked the clock on his desk. He liked to believe people would be punctual when it was necessary. For instance, meeting with one’s lawyer about a contract that was signed, or the lawyer representing the defendant in an assault charge. Harold was reminded that not everyone was as punctual as he was.
Johnny was nearly an hour late, and Harold ground his teeth. Usually, he would refuse to meet with someone who chose to not respect his time, but he needed to speak with this man to help save Anna and her bar. Walter’s voice came through the intercom on his desk a few seconds later.
“Sir, Mr. Tory is here to see you.”
“Thank you, Walter, please send him in. And no phone calls from our other friend?” he asked, meaning Johnny’s uncle.
“None yet, sir, but I will try again.”
“Please do.” Harold stood and adjusted his tie as his door opened and the man he recognized as the one from the bar that night stepped inside. His face was bruised, but the swelling had gone down. Harold saw the photos from the attack in the case file he was given. “Mr. Tory, a pleasure to meet you.”
Johnny stared at his outstretched hand and shook it slowly. “Same to you, I think. Your assistant said this was about the contract I signed with my uncle?”