by Nora Roberts
“Guess you do. Still, business is pretty light today.”
“Steady though.” She got out the makings for a bacon cheeseburger and a chicken sandwich, kept moving to set up the two orders of fries.
“Damn! Thisis good.” He spooned up more of the soup.
“Thanks. Make sure to tell the boss.”
“I’ll do that. So, Reece, I checked the schedule. You’re off tonight.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded at Pete when the bantamweight dishwasher came in from his break.
“Thought you might want to take in a movie.”
“I didn’t know there was a movie theater in town.”
“There isn’t. I’ve got the best DVD collection in western Wyoming. Make a hell of a bowl of popcorn, too.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Boss’s son, Reece reminded herself again. Tread carefully between friendly and dismissive. “That’s a nice offer, Lo, but I’ve got a lot of things to catch up on tonight. You want a roll with that soup?”
“Maybe.” He edged a little closer, not quite crowding her at the grill. “You know, honey, you’re going to break my heart if you keep turning me down.”
“I doubt that.” She kept it light as she flipped the grill orders, then got him a roll and a plate. “You don’t want to get too close to the grill,” she warned. “You may get splattered.”
Instead of taking the soup out to the restaurant as she’d hoped, he just leaned back against the work counter. “I’ve got an awful tender heart.”
“Then you want to steer clear of me,” she told him. “I stomp all over them. I left a trail of bleeding and bruised hearts all the way from Boston. It’s a sickness.”
“I might be the cure.”
She glanced at him then. Too good-looking, too full of charm. Once upon a time she might have enjoyed being pursued by him, even caught for a while. But she just didn’t have the energy for games. “You want the truth?”
“Is it going to hurt?”
It made her laugh. “I like you. I’d prefer to keep liking you. You’re my boss’s son, and that makes you the next thing to the boss in my lineup. I don’t sleep with the boss, so I’m not going to sleep with you. But I appreciate the offer.”
“Didn’t ask you to sleep with me yet,” he pointed out.
“Just saving us both time.”
He spooned up soup, ate in a slow and thoughtful way. His smile was the same—slow and thoughtful. “Bet I could change your mind, you give me half a chance.”
“That’s why you’re not getting one.”
“Maybe you’ll get fired, or my ma’ll disown me.”
When the fryer buzzed, she let the potatoes drain in the baskets while she finished the sandwiches. “I can’t afford to get fired, and your mother loves you.”
She finished the orders, put them up. “Now go on out, sit at the counter and finish your soup. You’re in the way.”
He grinned at her. “Bossy women are a weakness of mine.”
But he strolled out when she started on the next ticket.
“He’ll try again,” Pete told her from the sink in a voice that still said Bronx even after eight years in Wyoming. “He can’t help himself.”
She felt a little harried, a little hot. “Maybe I should’ve told him I was married, or a lesbian.”
“Too late for that now. Better tell him you’ve fallen wild in love with me.” Pete sent her a grin, showing the wide gap between his two front teeth.
She chuckled again. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Nobody does. That’s why it’d work.”
Joanie came in, stuck a check in the pocket of Pete’s apron, handed another to Reece. “Payday.”
“Thanks.” And Reece made a decision on the spot. “I wonder if when you have a chance you could show me the apartment upstairs. If it’s still available.”
“Haven’t seen anybody move in, have you? In my office.”
“I need to—”
“Do what you’re told,” Joanie finished and headed out.
Left without a choice, Reece followed. Inside, Joanie opened a shallow wall cabinet emblazoned with a cowboy riding a bucking horse. There was an army of labeled keys on hooks. She took one out, passed it to Reece. “Go on up, take a look.”
“It’s not time for my break.”
Joanie cocked a hip, fisted a hand on it. “Girl, it’s time if I say it’s time. Go on. Stairs out the back.”
“All right. I’ll be back in ten.”
It was cold enough even with the snow rapidly going to slush that she needed her coat. She was grateful for it once she’d climbed the rickety open stairs and unlocked the door. Joanie was obviously frugal enough to keep the heat off upstairs.
She saw it was essentially one room with an alcove where an iron daybed was nestled, and a short counter on the street side that separated a little kitchen. The floors were random-length oak that showed some scars, while the walls were an industrial pasty-flesh beige.
There was a bath that was actually slightly larger than the one in her hotel room with a white pedestal sink and an old cast-iron claw-foot tub. Rust stains bloomed around their drains. The mirror over the sink was spotted, the tiles a stark white with black borders.
The main room held a sagging plaid sofa, a single faded blue armchair and a couple tables holding lamps that had obviously been flea market bargains.
She was smiling even before she turned to walk to the windows. A trio of them faced the mountains, and seemed to open up the world. She could see the sky where the blue streaks were fighting to overtake the dull white, and the lake where that blue was shimmering against the gray.
The snow people were melting into deformed hobbits that spread low over the winter-brown grasses. The willows were shabby bent sticks, and the cottonwoods shivered. Shadows shifted over the snow-laced peaks as the clouds gathered and parted, and she thought she saw a faint glimmer that might have been an alpine lake.
The town with its slushy streets, its cheerful white gazebo, its rustic cabins spread out below her. Standing where she was she felt a part of it, yet still safe and separate.
“I could be happy here,” she murmured. “I could be okay here.”
She’d have to buy some things. Towels, sheets, kitchen supplies, cleaning supplies. She thought of the paycheck in her pocket, the tip money squirreled away. She could manage the essentials. And it could be fun. The first time she’d bought her own things in nearly a year.
Big step, she thought, then immediately began to second-guess herself. Was it too big a step, too soon? Renting an apartment, buying sheets. What if she had to leave? What if she got fired? What if—
“God, I annoy myself,” she muttered. “What-ifs are for tomorrow. The moment’s what matters. And at this moment, I want to live here.”
As she thought it, clouds parted and a beam of fragile sunlight arrowed through them.
That, she decided, was enough of a sign. She’d make a try here, for as long as it lasted.
She heard footsteps on the stairs outside, and the bubble of fear opened in her chest. Groping in her pocket, she closed her hand around her panic button, gripped one of the tacky table lamps with the other.
When Joanie opened the door, Reece set the lamp down as if she’d been examining it.
“Ugly, but it gives decent light,” Joanie said, and left it at that.
“Sorry, I took longer than I meant to. I’ll go right down.”
“No rush. We’re slow, and Beck’s on the grill. Long as it’s nothing too complicated, he can handle things. You want the place or not?”
“Yes, if I can manage the rent. You never said what—”
In shirtsleeves, her stained apron and her thick-soled shoes, Joanie took a quick pass around the room. Then she named a monthly figure that was slightly less than the hotel rate.
“That’s including your heat and lights, unless I find you’ve gone crazy there. You want a phone, that’s on you. Same thing if you get it into y
our head you want to paint the walls. I don’t want a bunch of noise up here during business hours.”
“I’m pretty quiet. I’d rather we do it by the week. I like to pay as I go.”
“Doesn’t matter to me as long as the rent’s on time. You can move in today if you want.”
“Tomorrow. I need to get some things.”
“Suits me. Pretty sparse in here.” Joanie’s eagle eyes tracked around the room. “I probably have a few things sitting around I can bring up. You need help moving your stuff, Pete and Beck’ll give you a hand with it.”
“I appreciate it. All of it.”
“You’re paying your way. You got that raise coming.”
“Thanks.”
“No need for gratitude on something that was agreed on from the get-go. You do the job and you don’t cause trouble. Don’t ask questions, either. Now I figure that’s either because you were absent the day they handed out your portion of curiosity, or you don’t want questions asked back.”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“But you’re not stupid.” Joanie’s hand patted her apron pocket where Reece knew she kept a pack of cigarettes. “Let’s get this said. You got trouble. Anybody with two licks of sense can see it just by looking at you. I guess you’ve got what they like to callissues. ”
“Is that what they call them?” Reece murmured.
“The way I see it, if you’re working through them or just standing still, it’s your business. But you don’t let it get in the way of your job, so that’s mine. You’re a good worker, and you’re a better cook than I ever had behind the grill. I figure on making use of that, especially if I figure you’re not going to go rabbiting off some night and leave me flat. I don’t like to depend on anybody. You just get disappointed that way. But I’m going to make use of you, and you’ll get your pay on time, and a reasonable rent on this place. You’ll get your time off, and if you’re still here in another couple months, you’ll get another raise.”
“I won’t leave you flat. If I need to go, I’ll tell you beforehand.”
“Fair enough. Now I’m going to ask you straight out, and I’ll know if you’re lying. You got the law after you?”
“No.” Reece combed her fingers through her hair and let out a weak laugh. “God, no.”
“Didn’t figure you did, but you might as well know some folks around here are speculating on that. People in the Fist like to speculate, passes the time.” She waited a beat. “You don’t want to say what it is behind you, that’s your business, too. But it might help if someone comes looking for you, you tell me whether you want them to find you, or be pointed in another direction.”
“No one’s going to come looking for me. There’s only my grandmother, and she knows where I am. I’m not running from anyone.” Except maybe herself, she thought.
“All right, then. You’ve got the key. I got a duplicate in my office. You don’t have to worry about me coming up and poking around once you move in. But you’re late with the rent, I’ll take it out of your pay. No excuses. I’ve already heard them all.”
“If you can cash my paycheck, I’ll give you the first week now.”
“I guess we can work it that way. Another thing, I could use some help with the baking now and again. May tap you for that, have you give me a hand. I use my own kitchen for the baked goods.”
“I can do that.”
“I’ll work it into the schedule. Well, let’s get back before Beck poisons somebody.”
WITH THE REST of her pay and a portion of her tip money, Reece headed to the mercantile. Basics, she reminded herself. Essentials and no more. This wasn’t Newberry Street and she couldn’t afford indulgences.
But God, it was a kick to be going shopping for more than new socks or a pair of jeans. The idea of it lightened her steps until she could actuallyfeel good, healthy color in her cheeks.
She breezed in with a quick jingle of the bell that hung over the door. There were other shoppers, and some she recognized from the diner. Steak san, extra onions for the man in the plaid jacket in the hardware section. The woman and the little boy browsing in dry goods—fried chicken for him, Cobb salad for her.
She made a group of four as campers, loading up on supplies they had stacked in one of the rolling grocery carts.
She lifted a hand at Mac Drubber, and found a comfort in his acknowledging nod. It was nice to recognize and be recognized. All so casual and normal. And here she was looking at packaged sheet sets. She rejected the plain white immediately. Too reminiscent of hospitals. Maybe the pale blue, with its pattern of tiny violets, and the dark blue blanket. And for towels the buttery yellow for some sunshine in the bath.
She took the first haul to the counter.
“Got yourself a place, did you?”
“Yes. The apartment over Joanie’s,” she told Mac.
“That’s fine. You want me to start an account for you?”
In her current mood it was tempting. She could get everything she needed, and a few things she only wanted, and pay for it later. But that would be breaking the hard-and-fast rule she’d lived by for more than eight months.
“That’s all right. It’s payday. I just need to get a few things for the kitchen, and I’m set for now.”
She did the math in her head as she scanned, debated, deleted or selected what was absolutely necessary over what could be done without. A good cast-iron skillet, a decent pot. She couldn’t afford the kind of cookware she’d once owned, or good knives, but she could make do.
Even as she calculated, adjusted her list, she glanced up and over each time the little bell jingled.
So she saw Brody come in. Same battered leather jacket, she noted, same down-at-the-heels boots. He looked like he might have shaved in the last couple of days. But that look in his eyes, something that said he’d seen it all already and didn’t miss it, was still there as his gaze passed over her before he headed to the grocery section.
Thankfully, she’d already hit that area for what she considered pantry and refrigerator staples.
She pushed her cart to the counter. “That should do it, Mr. Drubber.”
“I’ll ring you up. No charge on the teakettle. It’s a housewarming gift.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“My store, my rules.” He wagged a finger at her. “Be a minute here, Brody.”
“No problem.” Brody set a quart of milk, a box of cornflakes and a pound of coffee on the counter. Nodded to Reece. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“Reece is moving into the apartment over Joanie’s.”
“That so?”
“I get this rung and boxed, you give her a hand hauling it over there, Brody.”
“Oh, no. No, that’s okay. I can manage.”
“You can’t cart all this stuff on your own,” Mac insisted. “Got your car outside, don’t you, Brody?”
There was a ghost of a smile around his mouth as if he found the whole situation amusing. “Sure.”
“Heading on down to Joanie’s for dinner anyway, right?”
“That’s the plan.”
“See that, no trouble at all. This cash or charge, honey?”
“Cash. It’s cash.” And, deducting the teakettle, nearly to the dollar of what she’d brought with her.
“Just put my stuff on my account, Mac.” Brody stacked his purchases on top of one of the boxes Mac had already packed, hefted it. Before the rest was finished, Brody was back for box number two.
Trapped, Reece lifted the last one. “Thanks, Mr. Drubber.”
“You enjoy your new place,” he called out as she followed Brody to the door.
“You don’t have to do this. Seriously,” she began the minute they were outside. “He put you on the spot.”
“Yeah, he did.” Brody loaded the second box into the bed of a black Yukon, then turned and reached for the one Reece carried. She wrapped her arms more tightly around it.
“I
said you didn’t have to do this. I can do it myself.”
“No, I don’t, and no, you can’t. So let’s do ourselves a favor and get it done while we’re young.” He simply yanked the box out of her arms, loaded it. “Get in.”
“I don’t want—”
“You’re being an idiot. I’ve got your stuff,” he continued as he rounded the hood. “You can get in and ride with it, or you can walk.”
She’d have preferred the second option, but that would make her a moron as well as an idiot. She got in, gave the door an irritated slam shut. And not caring, particularly, about his comfort, opened the window so she didn’t feel closed in.
He said nothing, and since the radio was blasting out Red Hot Chili Peppers, she didn’t have to pretend to make polite conversation on the short drive.
He parked on the street, then got out to drag a box out one side of the car while she pulled one from the other. “The entrance is around back.” Her voice was clipped, surprising her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been seriously annoyed with anyone other than herself.
She had to lengthen her stride so she didn’t trail behind him, and though she breezed by him on the stairs, she fumbled when she had to prop the box against the wall in order to deal with the key.
Brody simply shifted the box he held to one arm, took the key, unlocked the door.
A fresh wave of resentment washed through her. This washer place now. She should be able to invite in whom she liked, and keep out whom she didn’t. And here he was striding across the floor to dump her box of precious new possessions on the counter.
Then he was striding out again, without one comment. On a huff of breath, Reece set her box down. She dashed to the door and out, hoping to catch him and take the last load herself.
But he was already starting back.
“I’ll take it from here.” The breeze blew her hair across her face. She gave it an annoyed swipe back. “Thanks.”
“I’ve got it. What the hell’s in here? Bricks?”
“It’s probably the cast-iron skillet, and the cleaning supplies. I can get it, really.”
He simply ignored her and climbed the steps. “Why the hell did you lock the door when we were coming right back?”