Baby, I'll Find You

by Jennifer Skully

  Jami leaned in and dropped to the same tone. “I’ll tell you a secret. My boss made me cry just the other day.”

  “Really?” She rewarded Jami with another quarter-second of eye contact.

  “Yeah, really.” Of course, she hadn’t been at work when she cried, but whatever.

  “Wow.” Andrea stared agog for a moment longer. “You want some fries, too? Cole makes the best seasoned curly-fries.”

  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  The sweet girl skipped off to bag the fries and Jami glanced into the depths of Easy Cheesy Burgers.

  And straight into Colton Amory’s blue-eyed, mad-as-a-hornet gaze. Good Lord. Stained white apron, fry-cook cap, he’d given up music for the fast-food industry.

  * * * * *

  What was she doing here? After last night, she should have hightailed it back to wherever she came from in her clean white SUV.

  The tail end of Cole’s pissed-off mood still thrummed in him. He’d clenched his fist so hard, his hand still hurt. Amazingly, hothead Frank had put a restraining hand on his arm. Usually it was the other way round, but Cole had wanted to bash the guy’s face in for talking that way to the kid.

  He didn’t like how much he appreciated the way the woman herself had jumped to the kid’s defense either. Most people would have simply shifted around, looking anywhere but at the altercation, with the usual don’t-get-involved attitude. But not her. She’d jumped right in.

  He had a feeling she’d prove to be a royal pain in the ass.

  He finished throwing together her Ruby Special, stabbing the bun with two ruby-colored toothpicks. A full half pound of beef, tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, bacon strips, even Ruby herself couldn’t eat the whole thing. It was the best Easy Cheesy had to offer, which was why Frank had insisted on naming it after his darling Ruby. Cole finished wrapping the burger and sent it flying down the counter toward Andrea. “Here you go, kid.”

  She caught it deftly before it flew off the end, plopped a bag of curly fries on a tray alongside the burger, added a few packets of ketchup, and flapped her hand at Frank for the strawberry-banana shake.

  Ms. Baylor—he’d eavesdropped on the entire conversation—was still staring at him as if she’d seen a ghost of Christmas past. Dammit, he was not Colton Amory. He was plain old Cole, Easy Cheesy fry cook. He should have put the damn burger in a to-go bag.

  She took the tray and settled down at a table outside near the window. Where he could see her without getting too much of a crick in his neck.

  “Now that is one pretty hot tamale.” Frank was a big lumbering guy, but Cole hadn’t even heard him move.

  Cole didn’t bother looking at him. “A Ruby’s Special, curly fries, and a strawberry-banana shake all for free? What’s up with that, Frank?”

  “One good deed deserves another.” Frank pumped his arm, the tattoos coming to life in X-rated splendor.

  “You’re a horny toad.”

  “You’re the one started looking at her first, while she was still standing in line.”

  So Frank had noticed that. Like a circus freak with a second pair of eyes in the back of his head, Cole had been aware of her the moment she’d pulled up. He couldn’t stop focusing on her now. Damn. Did she have to chew on one of his curly fries as if she were dining on lobster, eyelids at a sexy half mast? Worse was when she sucked on her shake straw.

  Frank snapped his fingers. “Did you hear me?”

  “What?” In the depths of his fantasies, Cole hadn’t heard a thing and didn’t even know how long he’d been watching her.

  “I said I gotta go take care of Ruby, then I have that interview with the little bookkeeper chick. Can you handle the joint for me?”

  “Sure, sure,” Cole agreed. Their previous bookkeeper quit a couple of months ago, and Frank really wasn’t a numbers guy.

  “Make sure you don’t beat any customers’ heads in while I’m gone.”

  Cole closed his eyes and answered with a shake of his head. “He shouldn’t have talked that way to the kid.”

  Frank tipped his head, looking at him as if he’d sprouted angel wings out of his back. “Remember, I handle the assholes.”

  Snorting, Cole had to smile. “Yeah. But I’m not bailing you out of jail again.”

  Frank just smiled complacently. “She’s a cutie, ain’t she?”

  Cute wasn’t the way he would have described the woman. Then Cole saw the direction of Frank’s gaze. Andrea Bagotti was a cutie. He rubbed his chest over his heart. “The kid needs more confidence.”

  “She’ll get it.” Said like a proud papa, though Andrea had only worked at Easy Cheesy for four months, since the start of summer.

  “Yeah, she will,” Cole said. “Now get the hell out of here before Ruby pitches a fit.” Before Cole had to look for too long at Andrea.

  Frank drew his head back in affront. “Ruby doesn’t pitch fits. She’s too much of a lady.” But he went running.

  Cole turned to the object of his fascination. The woman had polished off half the burger, wrapped it in the paper, then picked up her tray, and was headed back to Andrea’s window. For the first time since he’d known her, the kid was animated as she handed over a to-go bag.

  The support she’d offered seemed to have given the kid a boost. Which forced him to feel grateful to her.

  Why the hell didn’t the woman go away instead of messing with his mind? Despite the fact that Andrea was now taking a new order from a couple of high-school kids, Cole marched out the employee’s side door, heading round to the woman’s SUV, where she was now fumbling in that huge purse for her keys.

  He stopped in front of her, hands on his hips. The stains on his apron undermined him a little, but he straightened to his full height as an intimidation strategy. “Are you stalking me?”

  She huffed out a breath. “No, I am not. I came yesterday for a hamburger before you even started working here.”

  “I’ve been working here for seven years.”

  Her shortie T-shirt top rose and fell over her breasts. A sliver of bare skin showed above the waist of her jean skirt. “Okay, that didn’t come out exactly the way I meant it.” She narrowed her pretty blue eyes at him. “But you know what I mean.”

  “How did you know where I live?” he shot back at her.

  “I—” She stopped. Another deep breath, another expansion of those too-gorgeous breasts. “I looked you up on the Internet when I couldn’t find any more of your music on Amazon.”

  “Ah-ha.” He pointed his finger at her. “So you are stalking me.” Realizing he was fully admitting to having once been Colton Amory, he gave her a menacing growl.

  Instead of cowering, she tipped her head to one side and gazed up at him. “Why are you flipping Ruby’s Specials at Easy Cheesy Burgers instead of making beautiful music?”

  Eons ago, he would have loved to make beautiful music with her. His heart seized, and he took a step back. A thousand replies ran through his mind. He’d become tired of the road and sick of the music-industry rat race. The groupies had grown too much for him.

  Yet somehow, what came out was almost the truth. “I don’t hear music in my head anymore.” He thought of the old song, “American Pie,” about the day the music died, supposedly when Buddy Holly was killed in a plane crash.

  His music had died with Stephie. Sometimes, he truly wished he’d died, too.

  “Gotta go,” he muttered; it was all that would come out of his mouth.

  Then he ran back to the safety of his burgers.

  Chapter Five

  Jami climbed in her car and pulled out of the lot. That was the most surrealistic experience she’d had since...well, since Dick Head had fired her and Leo had given her the heave-ho. She’d darn near decided to move on to pastures outside Masterson—like maybe Death Valley, which was a damn sight better than the reception Colton Amory had given her. But now...

  I don’t hear music in my head anymore.

  And that look in his eye. Hard to describe in
mere words, it was akin to Kate Winslet watching Leonardo DiCaprio sink below the water in Titanic. It went beyond your normal Monday-morning blues. Jami couldn’t walk away from that look.

  Cruising Masterson’s main drag with no particular direction in mind, her cell phone played that old Pam Tillis song, “Queen of Denial.” Denise. If Denise actually knew the ring tone Jami’d assigned to her, there’d be hell to pay.

  “Are you sitting down?” her sister asked.

  Luckily Jami already had her earphone in because Pine Street was busy with license plates from all over the country, the Corner Café was overflowing and an old man had opened his car door right in front of her. “I’m driving.”

  “Then pull over to the side of the road because you are not going to believe this.” Denise had earned the title of Numero Uno Drama Queen in the family. She was certainly the most animated. Her not-to-be-believed news could be anything from baby Emily spitting pea soup in the middle of the night while The Exorcist theme played, to husband Truman having a hangnail.

  Jami turned a corner at Redwood Lane and slipped into a parking spot. “All right, spill.”

  “I saw Leo.”

  Her heart lurched. “So?”

  “I saw Leo with a woman,” Denise emphasized in a loud whisper.

  Jami sat very still and felt the wash of heat from her midsection to her extremities. The tips of her fingers tingled. “Guess it didn’t take long for him to replace me.” She was proud of how calm her voice sounded.

  “You don’t get it, Jami. She was pregnant.”

  Spots suddenly swam before her eyes, and she was glad Denise had made her park first. “Maybe it was a friend—”

  “He was holding her hand.” Did Denise sound like she was enjoying this? No, no, her sister cared about her.

  “He has a cousin. Her name is—” Just who was the queen of denial now? Leo’s family lived in New Hampshire, and he hadn’t visited them the entire time she’d known him. “How pregnant was she?”

  “I’d say she had to be at least six months. And Jami?” her sister asked as if she needed permission.

  “What else?”

  “I saw them in Dell’s Jewelry when I went to pick up my watch yesterday. They were looking at wedding bands.”

  The sun streamed through the window. Jami closed her eyes and let its warmth fill the empty cavity where her heart used to be.

  “I’m sorry, Jami. But I thought you’d want to know.”

  That’s what they’d said when Nanette saw Denise’s husband Truman with another woman. She’d want to know. In the end, it had been quite innocent (right!). But Jami didn’t want to know. Leo had broken up with her, so why make it worse?

  “I still might not have figured it out,” Denise went on, “if Leo hadn’t given me that look.”

  “What look?” She almost choked before she got the question out.

  “You know. The look of terror, like ohmigod, she knows I’ve been screwing around and she’s going to tell her sister.”

  Which, Nanette swore, was exactly the same look Truman had given her. God, Jami thought, she really was a bitch for downloading that song. With the shoe on the other foot, playing “Queen of Denial” as Denise’s ring tone was just plain wrong. She’d change it the moment she hung up.

  “Leo’s such an asshole,” her sister commiserated, “and you’re well rid of him, honey.”

  Well, there was that. If someone was an ass, you could get mad. Being angry was better than the hole under her ribs getting deeper by the second. She’d wanted a baby so badly...and he’d given his sperm to another woman.

  “He’s a dickhead,” she whispered, any comparison to her boss completely intended.

  “That’s it, honey pie,” Denise cheered her on. “Say it with more feeling.”

  “He’s a total dickhead.” She still felt like crying. How could Leo do that when he knew how badly she wanted to be a mother?

  “I’ll let you borrow Truman’s wood chipper so you can feed Leo’s body parts through it.”

  “He isn’t worth the lethal injection.” How long had he been cheating on her? Everything just suddenly bubbled over and out. “You know what’s the worst? He didn’t have the guts to take the bull by the horns and dump me when he first got the girl pregnant. How wrong is that?”

  “I don’t even have words to describe it,” Denise agreed solemnly.

  “I mean, why would she even consider marrying him when he didn’t actually leave me until I gave him the ultimatum?”

  Jami started remembering other things, too. The odd pensive look in his eyes when she’d gone into his office that night and caught him sitting there staring, just...staring. At nothing. Only she realized now that expression hadn’t been so odd at all. He’d been like that for months.

  “If I hadn’t said something, do you think we’d have gone on like that while his girlfriend had his illegitimate child?”

  “It’s not even worth thinking about,” Denise murmured.

  Jami couldn’t get the idea out of her head. “That bastard,” she said with all the feeling Denise could want.

  “Yeah. You go, girl. Get it all out.”

  “You know, you’re right. I needed to know this. If I found it out later, I’d have mutilated you for not telling me. And I’m done, I am so done with that man.”

  “Does that mean you’re coming home?”

  “No. I am not coming home. I’m going to stay right here. I’m going to—” Well, she didn’t know exactly what she was going to do. “I’m going to rent an apartment and get a job.”

  Where had that come from?

  “Mom’s going to have conniptions.”

  Her mother would probably be glad that, after all these years, her youngest daughter finally had something to say for herself. “My drama will make her feel needed.”

  Denise made a noise. “You’re right.” Then, after a pause, “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “I’m sure.” Though not completely sure.

  “Forgive me for telling you?”

  “I forgive you.” It wasn’t Denise’s fault that Leo was a cheat.

  “Square then?”

  “Square.”

  “You’re a doll. You want I should call you later and make sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. But Denise?” Jami let the question mark hang for a moment.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell Mom and Nanette and Cathy yet.” She couldn’t stand the flurry of calls making sure she was okay, really okay.

  Denise was silent long enough to let the cat out of the bag.

  “You told them”—Jami’s voice started to rise—“before you told me?”

  “I had to ask if they thought I should tell you.” Her sister’s voice was almost a whine.

  It was the same thing Nanette had said about Truman. The Baylor family made decisions as a team. “All right, fine. I have to go now. The meter maid is coming round, and I haven’t put any money in yet. Bye.”

  It was an out-and-out lie—there wasn’t even a meter—but Jami needed a minute. Punching End, she turned off her cell phone. She’d let the calls—and there would be lots of calls—go to voice mail.

  How did she really feel? Hurt, powerless, abused, angry, vindictive, envious, scared. She could probably go on, but what would be the point?

  Dick Head had scapegoated her. Leo had cheated on her. He’d given another woman her baby. She’d planned her life to the last detail—operative word being planned—yet her execution sucked. So if making a plan didn’t work, maybe being reckless and impulsive was the ticket.

  Masterson, California was as good a place as any other to book her flight to recklessness.

  Besides, going home now would really make her look like a loser.

  * * * * *

  Jami didn’t quite feel quite in her own body as she pulled out of the parking spot. The shops ended a quarter of the way down the block, and the houses began. White paint, big shady oaks, front porche
s, and dormer windows. The sun sprinkled down through the branches onto lush, green lawns. With her windows up, she couldn’t hear the traffic from the main street, and the lane looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell picture.

  Which made her think of white picket fences, kids playing on swings...and Leo. How could he have done that to her?

  Two houses from the end of the block, Jami tromped on her brakes. The home was smaller than the others along the street, but bright blue hydrangeas lined the white porch rail, and a stenciled Room for Rent sign poked up from the middle of the lawn. There was even an empty spot street-side to park her car. As if the house and the sign were beckoning her.

  Serendipity. If you didn’t over-think, the universe provided. See, if Denise hadn’t called right when she did, Jami wouldn’t have turned down this street. Then again if Leo had said yes instead of sorry-see-ya-later-baby, she wouldn’t have been in Masterson at all.

  A room in a house had to be cheaper than a motel, but she’d probably have to rent it for at least a month. A month commitment. Yeah, why not? She didn’t have anything else to do. And she was impulsive now. Reckless was her new name.

  As if it had a slight hiccup, the doorbell ding-donged a couple of seconds after she pushed it. Jami wore her flat sandals, but she still had to look down at the little woman opening the door. Her hair blue-white and her dress a purple polka-dot, she peered up through purple cat’s eye glasses perched on her nose. Though Jami wasn’t sure how the cat’s eyes managed to perch on the woman’s tiny snub nose without falling off.

  “May I help you, dear?”

  Thumb out, Jami pointed over her shoulder at the sign. “I’m interested in your room for rent.”

  “Oh goody-goody,” the woman said, raising her hands just short of clapping them. “I’ve had a devil of a time getting a renter, and on my limited income, I really do need one.”

  Uh-oh. What was wrong with the room? “May I ask why you’re having trouble finding someone?”