Miss Eugenie shook Luke’s cell phone in her friend’s face. “It’s this app. I’m telling you that’s how he was tracked.”
Deborah snatched the phone, telescoping her arm until she could read the screen. “I’ve never heard of Glanz.”
“I’m reading the reviews right now,” Miss Eugenie said, scanning her computer. “User 862F highly recommends it. Says it’s great to hook up with your booty call.”
“Booty call?” Deborah tucked her head back, her double chin bunching into a triple. “What the heck is that?”
Luke’s face turned a dull red, and he reached for his phone. “You know, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.”
Miss Eugenie shook her head, her steel-gray curls bobbing. “Don’t be a prude, young man.” Turning to her friend, she said, “It’s what Sergio used to give you when he was home between hauls. Her husband was a truck driver,” she informed Luke.
“Oh God, kill me now,” he muttered as Deborah turned pink and murmured, “Is that right?”
“What’s the app do?” Allison cocked a hip against the booth and settled in. This conversation was too good to abandon for work.
“Well, if you and a friend both have it installed, you can choose to reveal your location to your friend. It lets people know if you’re on your way and how long until you arrive.” Miss Eugenie reclaimed Luke’s phone and scrolled through it. “You can set the duration, so people can only track your whereabouts for a certain time. But it looks like Luke set his on perpetual.”
“I didn’t set it on anything.” Luke craned his neck around, trying to look at his screen. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
Miss Eugenie handed the phone over to him. “It’s really quite a nifty app. Not as good as ours, of course.”
Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “You develop apps?”
“Well, just the two so far,” Deborah said. She took a sip of coffee. “Once we complete our online coding class, we have ideas for a couple more.”
The bell above the door tinkled, and a couple walked in. An unwanted guest sneaked in behind them.
“Shep!” The silver-and-brown mop of a dog paused, one paw raised. Dark eyes peered through tufts of thick hair to gaze longingly at their table. Allison pointed to the door. “Out.” Head low, he turned. Jenny held the door open. The waitress gave him a quick back rub over his red knit sweater. He shuffled back to his spot outside the door, circled three times in the bed of blankets set out for him, and flopped down.
Miss Eugenie sniffed. “He’s a clean dog. I don’t see the harm—”
“No.” Allison wasn’t going to risk someone complaining to the health department, not even for the sweet old dog. “So, the tracker. Can you turn it off?”
“Sure. Either delete the app or change the preferences,” Deborah said, snapping her laptop closed and shoving it in a large cloth bag. She pulled two knitting needles and a ball of blue yarn from its depths, settled back, and started clicking away. “But that would be stupid.”
Luke paused, finger over his phone. “Why’s that?”
“Your hussy will know you’ve turned it off and come rushing back here. So, unless you want to pack up and leave town before she gets here…” Miss Eugenie raised an eyebrow and looked between Luke and Allison.
A fist wrapped around Allison’s heart. Luke would be smart to leave town. There was no guarantee that Laurie wouldn’t sic the process servers on him. If Allison was being honest, it was probably better for her, too. When a woman was trying to diet, it only made sense to remove the triple chocolate cheesecake from the house. And Luke was more tempting than any dessert.
But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
She held her breath, waiting for his response.
He lowered his phone, the app still open on the screen. “I can’t leave yet.”
Allison sagged against the side of the booth.
“The mechanic says my bike won’t be ready till Monday now.”
Allison blinked, her eyes burning. Of course, that was the only reason he was staying. What else was keeping him here? She’d made it very clear she wasn’t interested in sleeping with the man, and cooking burgers and fries sure wasn’t his dream job.
Deborah examined a dropped purl and undid a couple of stitches. “Unless your process server knows you have that app and can hack into their system, you should be safe on that end. Only have to worry about if the hussy will tell.”
“Ladies,” he said and flashed the two older women some teeth, “I’ve told you she wasn’t my hussy. Just an ex-girlfriend with a fondness for fraud.” Taking a swallow of coffee, he tucked his phone in his pocket. “But after meeting you two lovely ladies, I can see how bad my taste in women used to be.”
Miss Eugenie patted her hair, and Deborah tugged at the collar of her blouse.
Allison sniffed. She wasn’t as easily charmed as two old ladies. She picked up the coffeepot. “Well, I hope before you go you get a chance to show me your turkey roulade recipe. I’ve got to get back to work.” Spinning on her heel, she made her way through the diner, refilling mugs as she went and ignoring the gaze she could feel pinned to her back. Her chest felt tight, as if she couldn’t fill her lungs. She escaped to the kitchen, a place that used to be her refuge. But Luke’s presence was everywhere. From the new clogs her fry cooks were wearing, to the reorganization of the fry and grill stations he’d insisted on. Her safe haven was no longer her own.
Rubbing her knuckles across her breastbone, she cursed the man. She had given him a cash-paying job and a room to stay in, and he was leaving her short a cook, again. Her position was no better off now than it had been a week and a half ago when he’d weaseled his way into her kitchen. That was why she was so restless, she decided. She no longer had a month to find another cook.
The sooner she faced that, the better. She strode to her office, and looked up the local newspaper online. In five minutes, she’d placed a classified ad for a fry cook. Bouncing up and down on her exercise ball, she reread the ad for Luke’s replacement. All the bullet points were hit. She wanted someone dependable, someone who didn’t have a problem taking orders, and, most of all, someone willing to stick around for the long haul. All the qualities Luke didn’t have.
Christ. Allison thumped her head against the wall. Luke was right. What she wanted was a dog.
* * * *
Luke stepped out of an antique store and flipped the collar of his jacket up. White twinkle lights in the maple trees lining the sidewalk were just beginning to flicker on in the dusk. He’d never admit it, but he was actually enjoying his afternoon off in Pineville.
After extracting a blood oath from Fred at the Gas & Stuff that his Harley would definitely be ready on Monday, Luke had found himself wandering down Main Street, poking in and out of kitschy stores, buying himself a steaming peppermint latte. Somewhere between Second Street and Fourth, the idea to look for a gift for Allison had taken root. The woman had opened her house to him, given him help at every turn. He should have thought of it earlier.
He stepped into Kitchen Kreations. White and gold ornaments dangled from the ceiling between copper pots and pans. The equipment was high end, with the prices to match, and Luke felt like he had come home. He visualized Allison’s home kitchen, trying to think of what she needed. Her kitchen was the one room in her house that seemed fully stocked, however. The living areas were minimally furnished, looking as though she had just moved in. Maybe he should get her something for one of those rooms, instead.
After he played around with the kitchen gadgets.
A deep chuckle mingled with a giggle across the store. Luke turned and saw Sadie and Colt standing next to a computer monitor at the side of the room, heads almost touching. “Hi, guys,” Luke said, raising a hand in greeting. “What are you up to?”
Sadie brushed her bangs across her forehead. “Just adding
some things to our registry.”
Colt stretched out a hand and grasped Luke’s. “Yeah, can’t have enough silver spoons.” He rubbed his side after his fiancée poked him. “I know, I know. This is supposed to be the fun part of the wedding planning.”
Having catered enough weddings and seen the meltdowns some couples had over the smallest detail, Luke didn’t think any part of wedding planning could be fun. Who the hell cared if the table linens were aquamarine or turquoise? Or if the filling in your cake was mocha buttercream or coffee? They were both delicious and tasted virtually the same. Why did men put themselves through it?
Colt stared down at Sadie with a look of utter adoration, and Luke’s ribs squeezed tight. That was why. Some women must be worth the hassle.
Luke rubbed his chest.
“I know we don’t need a lot of this stuff,” Sadie said, “but we do need to give people options, and smaller items that won’t break the bank are always useful.” Taking Colt’s hand, she turned to Luke. “We did suggest that people make a donation to our favorite charities in lieu of a gift, but a lot of people hate showing up without a wrapped present. We have to think of our guests.”
“It’s our wedding,” Colt grumbled. “We should be thinking about us.”
Sadie drew Colt’s arm around her shoulders and leaned into him, a crease marring her brow. It looked like neither the bride nor the groom was having fun planning this wedding. Luke didn’t know the man well enough to say it aloud, but Colt should have gone with his gut and eloped with his bride.
“Allison told me about your idea for our main course.” Sadie idly rubbed Colt’s arm. “It sounds delicious. It won’t put us out of our budget?”
Luke shook his head. “Most of the ingredients were ones Allison was already using. The one addition is the wild game. I was thinking boar. It can get pricy, but we won’t need large quantities of it. I know a supplier…” Shit. The one supplier he knew that priced wild game reasonably was the same one trying to track him down.
Colt raised an eyebrow. “You know a supplier?”
“Yes.” Luke cleared his throat and glanced from the bride to the groom. She looked worried. Another thing Luke had learned catering weddings was not to mess with the bride. And he did want to help give Sadie a nice wedding. She seemed like good people.
“Yeah, I know a supplier who has reasonable prices. I’ll contact them and see what they’ll offer.” Luke would contact them using a fake name, of course. And maybe a fake voice.
“We appreciate that.” Colt looked down at his fiancée. “Ready to head home? You did say you were going to bake me some cookies tonight.”
Sadie rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep from smiling. “Don’t ever fall for a woman who loves you for your cooking, Luke. They’re a real pain in the rear.”
Luke said his goodbyes, and the happy couple left. He wandered around the shop, realizing he would need to get a side car for all the things he wanted to buy. The kitchen back in his condo in Chicago was underused. He’d put all his focus into his restaurant but at some point had stopped enjoying cooking a meal at home for himself and his friends. He was having more fun puttering in The Pantry’s kitchen, adding little ingredients to Allison’s recipes when she wasn’t looking and experimenting with new flavors, than he’d had at Le Cygne in a long time.
Something was wrong if the business he’d worked toward his whole life wasn’t satisfying anymore. Everything was a compromise: his time, torn between working in his kitchen and managing the business; his ethics, breaching a contract rather than going bankrupt.
Pushing out into the brisk air, Luke headed up the street. Thick flakes of snow drifted gently to the ground, and his boots crunched on the sidewalk. Monday was only four days away. He’d have to make a decision on whether to stay in Pineville or run. If Laurie took his advice, she probably wouldn’t be able to consult with an attorney before Tuesday at the earliest. He’d ask Keith to let him know when she came calling for the attorney’s fees.
She probably thought that she’d have until the end of the statute of limitations period before making up her mind, that she’d be able to track him wherever he went. And if he was going to be out of Chicago for the next couple of months, staying in Pineville, where he had a steady cash income, was ideal.
All logical reasons to stick around. And all bullshit.
Because if Luke were really honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he was growing just a teensy bit fond of Pineville. Spending the holidays in a town that relished the traditions and the decorations would make for a nice change. Chicago had its charms, and a lot of people there celebrated Christmas with style. But in his circle of friends, a person would only put on a Christmas sweater to make an ironic statement.
And his big city was lacking one very important feature: a bossy blonde who hummed carols when she washed dishes and filled out a pair of jeans like no one’s business.
There was no way he could say goodbye to her just yet.
Chapter Nine
“Holy Jesus crap on a cracker!” Allison sucked on her index finger, the third such appendage to be sliced by the heavy metallic paper. She, Sadie, and a group of other Pineville residents were volunteering their Sunday morning to wrap presents the Pineville Fire Department collected to give to needy children, and so far it had proved a dangerous occupation.
Sadie’s gaze darted around the crowded bay of the fire station. Stacks of wrapped presents lined one wall, and unwrapped gifts were stacked by another. Dozens of people sat around several rows of folding tables, rolls of gift wrap cluttering the surfaces, but no one looked at them.
“Well, that was certainly colorful,” Sadie said.
Allison shrugged. She was a cook. Kitchens were probably worse than submarines when it came to filthy language. Compared to her fellow students at the Culinary Academy of Michigan, Allison spoke like the frickin’ queen.
Sadie pointed to a girl a table away. “Jerome brought his daughter. You might want to make sure little ears can’t hear you.”
Allison craned her neck. Jerome was out of uniform and was leaning over and whispering something in his little girl’s ear. She was giggling like mad. “I think we’re fine,” Allison said. “Little ears are busy listening to something else.”
Camilla leaned across the table and snatched Allison’s tape dispenser. “My sister has always been creative with her language. But I’ve heard a lot worse from her. That was pretty tame.”
“Ah, thanks, sis.” Allison flapped her hand in the air, trying to ease the sting. “What is wrong with this wrapping paper? Is it made out of razor blades?”
Sadie sighed. “If you’d fold the edges down first, before bringing the sides together, there wouldn’t be a problem.” Under her breath, barely audible, she added, “It’s not rocket science.”
Allison picked up a pair of scissors and pointed them at her friend. “Hey, not all of us went to design school. Besides, some kid’s just going to tear the paper off in two seconds anyway. They don’t care that my edges are a bit…” Turning over her latest wrapped present, she frowned.
“Lumpy?” Sadie suggested with a sweet smile.
“Uneven?” Cam tossed in.
Allison slumped her shoulders. “Okay, I suck. The kids are going to think Santa’s elves were drunk when they wrapped their presents.”
“No, they won’t. But kids like things in pretty packages, too, just like adults.” Sadie neatly sliced the tape from Allison’s present and refolded the edges before rewrapping it so the paper was as flat as Luke’s stomach.
Shit. Back up. No thinking about hot shot’s stomach. Or any other body part.
“Oh, don’t bother trying to tell her how kids think.” Camilla drew the blade of her scissors along a length of ribbon. It bounced back in a jaunty curl. “She wouldn’t understand.”
Allison slouched in her chair. The fact t
hat she had two nieces she spent as much time as possible with didn’t matter. Nope, according to her sister, she’d have to actually pop one of the puppies out herself before being able to offer any sort of opinion on children.
Allison scratched at a splotch of red paint on the table. Why Sadie got a free pass, however, she didn’t know. Perhaps just being engaged, with the presumption of future offspring, was enough to get her in Cam’s club.
Glaring at Camilla, Sadie plopped another toy in front of Allison. “It’s just nice you took time away from the diner to come out here and help. And you’re right; most of the kids won’t care.” Sadie knew Allison’s family had the power to make her feel insecure about her singleton status. She was a good friend, always taking Allison’s side. Sadie tied a bow around her own gift, and added it to the large stack of wrapped presents at her feet. “How are things at The Pantry, anyway? It’s okay that you left for the morning?”
“Yeah. Sunday morning is always a crush, but when I left they looked like they could handle it. Besides, I have brunch with my family later and would have had to leave anyway.” The kitchen especially was running like a well-oiled machine, and her employees seemed only too happy to shoo her out of it.
“God forbid we miss a Sunday brunch,” Cam muttered.
“So Luke is working out okay?” Sadie asked. “I was a bit worried after I pressed you to hire him, but he seems like a nice guy.”
“Yeah, he’s a real prince.” One who seemed eager to ride off into the sunset on his bike. Alone.
Camilla taped a bow to the top of a present. “A man who looks like that and who can cook? Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”
The Christmas Wedding Swap Page 11