by Sienna Ciles
“Who is it?”
“Faith. Faith Stone bought the Cowboys n’ Cuts. No, that’s not right, her daddy bought it for her.” Cassie’s expression went from morose to downright miserable. “Faith is our new boss.”
A brick dropped in the pit of my stomach and crushed all those happy, swirly butterflies. This couldn’t be happening. The woman who was practically infatuated with the man I’d slept with last night was my new boss.
And she’d threatened me. And she hated my guts.
“This is unbelievable,” I whispered. It wasn’t so much the Joshua thing that was the problem. I instinctively knew that Faith wouldn’t be a good boss. She’d do everything she could to make working here uncomfortable for me, and it wasn’t as if I had that many options or any money to pay rent if she decided my time was up.
I’d have to move again, away from Hope Creek, and try to find something elsewhere. A week ago, the prospect of moving wouldn’t have concerned me. After all, there were plenty of small backwater towns in Texas.
But now? Now, I couldn’t picture leaving my feelings for Joshua behind. Or Cassidy and her little family. Ma and Charlie felt like relatives to me. They’d been so kind, invited me over for dinner or iced tea.
“Eve? Are you okay?” Cassie grasped my arm. “Listen, Eve, we have to stick together, okay? All the staff. If we let her get to us it will be over before it’s begun.”
I homed in on her. “What?”
“Faith. She’s going to try to divide and conquer. Trust me, I know her type. Do you really think she bought the diner because she wants to start a career as a restaurateur? Hell, no. She’s doing this because she wants to make your life hell. We’ll get through this, okay?”
I swallowed. “You must’ve been sent by angels, Cassie,” I whispered. “How can you be this supportive? I feel like I’ve caused all this trouble.”
“You couldn’t have known, and why should you have cared? Faith can’t stop you from following your heart.”
My heart? It was about to beat its way out of my chest. But I wasn’t a pussy. I wouldn’t throw in the towel here because that was exactly what Faith wanted me to do. “You’re right,” I said, and gritted my teeth, “we’ll make it through this. I’m going to go get prepped for my shift.”
I swept into the kitchen and tapped Bob on the shoulder. He gave me a weary nod and manned the grill while I changed into my chef’s whites. Finally, he clocked out and left without saying goodbye.
Highly unusual for him. Bob always had something snappy to say.
Cassie arrived with my first order, and I set about making two slices of cinnamon French toast. I’d just finished garnishing them with dollops of whole cream, when the front door of the diner opened and Princess Faith herself pranced in.
She was joyous, whistling a happy tune. She spotted me in the window and waggled her long, red nails at me. “Yoo-hoo! Hello, there, guess who’s your new boss?”
I forced a smile.
“That’s right, bitch, it’s me,” Faith said.
A few of the customers gasped and turned in their seats but Faith Stone didn’t care. She hadn’t come to make friends or even money. She’d come to make my life hell, and anything that got in her path was just collateral damage.
She sauntered up to the counter, then leaned on it, still wearing that smile like a medal. “I assume you heard I bought out the owner of this dump. And I assume you realize that I’m going to be changing a lot of things around here.”
I continued with the next order but nodded to show I’d acknowledged what she had to say.
“In fact, I think you should come through to my office right away to discuss these changes.”
“I can’t,” I said. “There’s no one out here to man the grill. It’s lunch rush. I’ve got orders coming out of my ears.”
“Are you arguing with your boss?”
“Faith –”
“Miss Stone.”
“Miss Stone,” I said, and ground my teeth so hard they squeaked, “if I leave the grill, customers will leave and the diner will lose money. Which means the investment your father made in this place will be for nothing.”
It was Faith’s turn to grind her molars. She didn’t like the fact that I knew her father had dished out the cash for this place, and that he’d be less than impressed if she ran it into the ground, spite or not.
“Fine,” she said. “Fine, but as soon as the rush is over, I want you in my office for a serious talk about your future at this restaurant.” She flipped her platinum blond hair. “Bitch.” Faith stalked off to the office door in the far corner of the diner. People stared at her, shook their heads as she passed, a few of the regulars actually looked queasy.
I shared their nausea. This wouldn’t end well, for anyone. Least of all me.
The lunch rush continued, and I served up burgers, mac n’ cheese, and chicken fried steaks. All the regular delights that kept the customers coming back, but it’d changed. All of it had changed, and I couldn’t shake the sense of unease. I glanced at the door in the corner of the room – Faith’s new office – and Cassie did the same each time she delivered plates to a table.
Finally, the noise died down and the restaurant emptied out but for a few tables – one with what looked to be a farmer in overalls, and the other with an elderly woman who kept slipping sachets of sugar into her handbag.
“Cas,” I called.
My friend jogged up to the window. “Yeah?”
“I’ve got to go into the office. Faith asked to see me.”
Cassidy pursed her lips. “I’ll keep an eye on everything out here. These two only need coffee refills anyway.” She hesitated and grasped my arm, squeezed. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I’d need it in there. Joshua hadn’t gone into too much detail about his past relationship with Faith, but she clearly hadn’t let go of it.
I took off my chef’s hat, fanned my face, then made the slow walk of shame to the office door, missing the previous owner with every step. I loved food and had grown to love this restaurant, too. Faith would drive this place into the ground.
I knocked once on the door and waited.
“Get in here,” the woman yelled.
I inhaled, then turned the doorknob and entered the office. None of Lily’s pictures were on the walls. The office was pretty much bare except for a set of new taffeta curtains in magenta. I forced down a tide of derision – magenta, really?
“Sit,” Faith said, gesturing to the tiny chair in front of her desk.
I shut the door and did as she’d indicated.
“You hate it, don’t you? Doing what I ask you to do. You totally hate it.” Faith’s eyes glimmered. “I warned you, though. I gave you a chance to back out before it was too late and you just didn’t listen.”
“What do you need to speak to me about?” I had to try keep this meeting professional, since Faith certainly wouldn’t.
“Miss Stone. Call me Miss Stone or get out of my office.”
I was tempted to take her up on that offer. “What do you need to talk to me about, Miss Stone?”
“We need to talk about your slutty ways, dear. You see, you whoring yourself out to the richest man in town is giving this restaurant a bad reputation,” Faith replied, with a broad grin.
“I don’t care about his money.”
The grin vanished. “Of course, you do. Everyone cares about money, and you’re no different. Don’t try to pretend that you are.”
“All I care about is doing my job.” And Joshua. I cared about Joshua even though I didn’t want that to be the case. Even though it scared the crap out of me that I’d fallen for him after everything I’d been through with Bryan.
“Is that right? Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to stay away from Joshua from now on and focus on work.”
“Miss Stone,” I said, through gritted teeth, “I don’t see what my relationship with Joshua has to do with the restaurant.”
“Relationship! Ha, you�
��ve got a big head. Joshua doesn’t want you for a relationship. He’s a millionaire. What would he want with you, other than your body? That’s all you are. A warm body. A wet pussy. That’s it. Get it? Good. Now, if you don’t stay away from him –”
I stood up and banged my knees on the edge of the table, but the pain didn’t registered. “You’re disgusting,” I said.
“Pardon?”
“You’re disgusting! You can’t talk to me like that.”
“Oh, but I can and I will. And here’s something else I can do: fire you. Go near him again and you’re fired. Get it?”
I hovered on the brink of ripping off my chef’s shirt and dumping it on her desk. But then what? I’d have to move out of Hope Creek, away from Cassie and little Charlie. Away from Joshua.
What had gotten into me? This move was supposed to be temporary. I’d never planned on staying here. There wasn’t real opportunity. The initial dream had been to find myself, maybe to start saving money to open my own restaurant one day, but now…
“What? Why are you staring at me like that? Did your brain go on vacation or something? Or are you lost in slutty dreams of my man?”
“He’s not your man,” I said, jabbing my finger at her. “He’s not anyone’s man. He’s not a possession. And I won’t be bullied by you, Faith. I won’t. Understand?”
She shrugged and checked her manicure. “Then your days are numbered, I’m afraid.”
I turned on my heel and marched from the office, anger burning a hole through my gut. I couldn’t storm out of Cowboys n’ Cuts, though. I had rent due next week and not enough money in the bank to deal with it.
“Are you okay?” Cassie stopped me just outside the kitchen. “You’re red as a tomato.”
“Fine,” I said, still shaking. “Fine.” But it was the biggest lie I’d told. Apart from the lies I’d told myself about my ex-husband.
Funny, for the first time in my life I couldn’t put a Beyoncé song to this moment. That had to mean things had gotten bad.
Chapter 14
Joshua
I’d never considered myself a particularly emotional dude. I wasn’t one of those pussies who wept in romantic movies or even watched them. I was the guy who enjoyed action-thrillers or historical throwbacks with a tumbler of whisky.
I held the flowers behind my back and walked up the grated steps that led to Eve’s apartment door above the butcher’s place. The sun seared the horizon, sinking lower by the minute, and I envisioned another night with her – warm skin on mine, supple flesh beneath my fingertips.
I knocked twice on the door, ignoring the squirming feeling in my gut. That was new. I’d felt nerves before, but never about a woman. I’d never focused much on the ‘feelings’ stuff.
Silence stretched out and I frowned, checking my watch. She should’ve been home by now.
“Eve?” I knocked again.
“Just a minute.” Her voice was muted, and boy, she didn’t sound happy to hear from me. Footsteps on the other side of the door, the scrape of a latch and the door opened a crack.
“Hey,” I said, with an easy smile. “How was work?”
“Fine.” She didn’t open up all the way.
“Are you sure? You look like you had a bad day,” I said, then produced the bouquet from behind my back with a cheesy flourish. “These are for you.”
Her eyes widened a little. “Oh,” she said, “oh, thanks.” Eve finally opened the door all the way. She was in a pair of PJs – cotton shorts and tee – and my throat closed. Just the sight of her bare thighs brought back flashes of last night.
I handed her the flowers then swept her into a hug, inhaled the coconut scent of her shampoo, ran my hands up and down her back. “Looks like it was a rough day.”
Eve stiffened. She slipped out of my grasp. “I guess. Yeah, I guess so.”
“May I come in?” Shit, this wasn’t meant to be awkward. When I’d left her this morning, she’d been in a great mood. We’d laughed our way through cow poop and grass, and feeding time, and I’d dropped her off at Cowboys n’ Cuts with a smile on her face.
What the hell had changed?
“Yeah,” she said, then bit her lip. “Come in.” She didn’t sound sure.
I planted my feet. “Okay, what’s going on? You don’t look like you want me to come in, Eve. I’m not the type of guy who beats around the bush. Something’s bothering you.”
“It’s nothing. I said come in, didn’t I?” Eve turned on her heel and padded down the hall, leaving a trail of her scent. She disappeared through an open doorway and the trickle of water came a second later.
Fuck it. Something had gotten under her skin and I’d be damned if I wouldn’t find out what it was. Already, I thought of her as my woman. My Eve. I moved across the threshold, then shut and locked the door behind me.
I walked down the hall and followed her into the kitchenette – a tiny space with just a portable gas stove, a few cupboards, sink, and mini-fridge to fill it. Not what I’d expected from a big city chef.
What did it mean? This place was tiny. I peered into the equally small living room and frowned. There were boxes in there, still packed from her move to Hope Creek. But she’d been here for six months. Unless, she’d packed her boxes again to leave.
“You going somewhere?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.
“What?” Eve looked up from the sink. She’d already placed the flowers in a jug. Not a vase. Maybe she’d already packed that, too.
“Your boxes are packed. You leaving town?”
She pursed her lips and didn’t answer.
“Eve.”
“What?!”
“Are you leaving town?”
“No,” she said. “They’ve been like that since I got here.” But she didn’t look sure about not leaving. She was pissed about something.
“What happened today?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
She slammed the flowers onto the counter and turned, fists on her hips. “What the hell, Joshua?”
I didn’t budge, met her stare for stare. “What the hell, right back at you,” I said. “I came here expecting to take you out for dinner, maybe over in Heather’s Forge or back at my place, and instead, you’re –”
“What? What am I?” she asked. “I’d love to hear it, since you must have such a well-formulated opinion about me.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t know jack shit about me. About what I want or who I am.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said. “This was not what I expected when I came here tonight. I’ll leave.” I walked out of the kitchenette and back down the dingy hall toward her front door.
“Wait,” she called, softly. “Joshua, I-I’m sorry. I did have a bad day. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I just – this is so much pressure. There are so many things happening and I –”
I stared at the bare wall beside the door. No pictures, no frames. This wasn’t a home, it was a halfway house, and I was a distraction on her path to the next big adventure. The next big thing. I didn’t turn. Stood there with my fists clenched tight.
Her bare feet padded up behind me. She placed her hand on the back of my neck. “You don’t understand what this is like for me.”
“Then explain it.”
“Joshua –” But the sentence cut off. She’d choked up.
“No, you say I don’t know you well enough. Enlighten me.” Her hand had mellowed my anger, but the words still came out in a growl. I wasn’t accustomed to this intensity of emotion. It fucked with my mental image of who I was. In control, calm, the farmer guy. So much for that, right?
Her hands slipped down my back and to my elbows. She squeezed lightly and tugged.
I rotated on the spot, and the sorrow in her eyes floored me.
Eve’s expression belonged in a painting, her face was a work of art, and her mind – I hadn’t begun to unravel the complexities of it.
“Talk to m
e, Eve,” I said. “Tell me who you are. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“It’s difficult.”
“I know.” I took her hands and led her through to her living room. We sat down on the sofa, surrounded by boxes and with nothing but a blank wall for company. Eve didn’t have a television, let alone a coffee table. “What happened?”
“It’s not about what happened today,” she said. “It’s about everything. I came here and I didn’t plan to stay. I’m sure you can tell from all of this crap.” She aimed a kick at one of the boxes.
“You didn’t move here to stay,” I said.
“No, I didn’t. I moved here to get away from… from everything.”
I stroked her cheek and she flinched away.
“Don’t,” she said. “I can’t concentrate when you touch me. It makes this difficult. It makes talking about this impossible.”
I placed my hands on my knees and kept them there, studying her.
Eve shook her hair out of her face and took a breath. A long one. “You aren’t the only one who met a partner in college. That was when I met Bryan.”
“The ex.”
“Yes,” she said. “Look, I told you that I’m divorced and that I left him, but I didn’t tell you the whole story. He was – he broke me. He remade me into what he wanted me to be and the only part of me, the only real part of me, left was the chef. The cooking. Whenever I doubt something, I cook. I find myself when I’m doing it.”
I waited for more.
She let the silence grow for a full minute, then finally continued, “Bryan was learning to be a chef, as well. He was the one who excelled in our classes in the beginning, probably because his parents owned a restaurant. But, after a while, I caught up with him.”
“He didn’t like that?”
“No,” she said, “but by that time we were already dating and I was too in love to care about the signs. Those little signs of his jealousy that showed through. We both graduated and started working in different places. We met different people. We got married. We drifted apart. But Bryan had this way of always, I don’t know, he always brought me down. He would make sure that when we attended parties together, he was the one telling the jokes. Most of the time they were at my expense.”