by Debby Mayne
"No. Don't do that. He'll kill me."
Nick chuckled. "I doubt that. Your dad's a decent guy. But he won't be happy about this."
Amanda turned and faced Paula with a pleading look. "Tell him not to talk to my dad."
"You need to do some work around here to cover what you tried to steal," Nick said. "If you do everything Ms. Andrews tells you to do for . . ." Nick glanced up at Paula. "How about three hours?" After Paula gave him another baffled look, he smiled and turned back to Amanda. "Nah, that's not enough. Four hours of sweeping, dusting, and whatever else Ms. Andrews says, we'll let you off the hook. But one more time and we're calling the cops."
Amanda's shoulders sagged. "Do I have to?"
"No, you don't have to, but if you don't, your dad will hear about this, and so will the police."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"
Paula regained her voice. "Why don't you come back tomorrow and I'll have some stuff for you to do. In the meantime, I'd like to have a private word with Mr. Papadopoulos."
Amanda looked back at Nick, who nodded. Then she ran out of the store.
Paula approached Nick. "Okay, so what just happened? How do you know her name, and who is her dad?"
"Remember Sam Dunbar?"
"You've got to be kidding. Sam Dunbar with the pocket protector and geeky glasses?"
"That's the one."
"I didn't know he married—" She narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute. You know whose daughter this is, right?"
Nick nodded. "Of course I do. Amanda is the product of a bad girl who was desperate after being jilted by one of the jocks she had a crush on."
Paula looked dazed. "I had no idea Amanda was Sam's daughter."
"Sam just happened to be in the way when Kate got dumped, and now he's been paying child support for fourteen years."
"But she's sixteen now."
"Yep. He didn't know about her at first."
Paula leaned against the counter. "How sad. Hey, wait a minute. How do you know all this? You never hung out with Sam Dunbar."
"You don't think your store is the first she stole from, do you? My dad's been dealing with her for years."
"No wonder she knew who you were."
"You probably thought it was just my infamous Papadopoulos charm."
Paula snickered. "Right. So now that you've made a deal with her, I'll have to supervise a kleptomaniac in my store where she can't keep her hands off the merchandise. What were you thinking, Nick?"
"I was thinking that over time she might actually learn something about values from a woman who pulled herself up from the trenches."
That made sense. But still . . .
Nick shot Oria a glance then looked back at Paula. "I doubt she'll try to steal anything as long as she's busy, but if she does let me know and I'll deal with it."
"If she steals anything else from me, I'll deal with it," Paula said. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"Yeah." Nick turned and walked back to the door, mumbling something that sounded like "And what a shame."
Paula ignored the comment. "Don't forget to tell your mama how much I enjoyed her soup," she called after him.
He just lifted a hand and waved as the door closed behind him.
"I don't know about you, but I'm not looking forward to having that brat in the store," Oria said.
"I'm not exactly thrilled about it either, but I do understand why Nick did that."
"He should have talked to you first."
If he had, she would have said no, but Paula wasn't mad about it. "We'll be fine, Oria. I'll try to get her to work off her time as quickly as possible, and you'll never have to deal with her."
"Thanks. I don't know what I'd do if I had to keep an eye on her every single second while I'm here." Oria lifted a magazine from the counter and flipped a few pages. "I didn't see my name on the schedule next week. Do you need me?"
"Only on Sunday, unless you need more hours," Paula replied.
"No, that's fine. I have just enough hours for what I want." She continued turning pages in the magazine.
"Do you need the hours this afternoon? If not, I'll take over."
"I was sort of counting on it."
"Okay, fine. Since you'll be here, I'd like to go home for a little while."
"Yeah, go get some rest," Oria said. "I'll call if there's a problem."
Paula had been so busy she hadn't found time to do laundry or leaf through her supply catalogs. After dumping a load in the washing machine, she grabbed a handful of catalogs and plopped them on the kitchen table. She poured herself a glass of sweet tea and sat down.
The entire afternoon was quiet. No phone calls or unexpected visitors. This was the first day like that since Nick came home.
Nick stopped back by Paula's shop on his way to the car, but Oria said she'd left and gone home. He mentioned stopping by to see her, but Oria told him Paula was exhausted and needed some rest. So he refrained.
He had a plan when he'd ordered Amanda to do time for her crime. However, the more he thought about it, the worse he felt for not discussing it with Paula first. It was her shop, not his. He had no right stepping in and taking over like that. He just had a feeling that Amanda was a smart girl who needed a break . . . and someone who cared enough to steer her in the right direction. That person certainly wasn't her mother, who had one of the worst reputations in school. And he doubted her dad would do anything but threaten to get custody of her, which neither of them wanted.
Nick took a walk toward town, where Sam's small accounting firm had an office. He wasn't surprised when he glanced inside and saw a light on.
The door was locked, so he knocked. Sam came toward the glass door and unlocked it. "Hey, Nick, when did you get back?"
"A couple weeks ago. So how's business?"
"Couldn't be better." Sam gestured toward the pile of papers on the counter. "That's what pays the bills. How long you in town?"
Nick chatted with Sam long enough to learn he hadn't spent much time outside his office over the past year. That was all he needed to know.
"Gotta run, Sam. I saw your light on and figured I'd stop by and say hi."
"Tell your dad I'll set aside some time for him next week. He's due to send in his quarterly taxes, and I want to look it over before it goes out."
"I'll tell him."
Nick went back to his car then headed home to his parents' house. He hoped no one would be there, but his mother greeted him at the door, wiping her hands on a towel. "Why aren't you out with Paula?"
"She had some things to do." He took a couple of steps toward his room.
"What's this I hear about Amanda stealing from her shop? Did you call the police?"
He stopped and turned to face his mother. "No, Mama, I think Amanda needs something the police can't give her."
His mother's face softened, and she smiled. "You have always been attracted to hurting people. I hope you know what you're doing. I'd hate to see Paula get hurt by that girl."
"Don't worry. Paula can take care of herself. But I'll make sure nothing happens as long as I'm here."
"Are you gonna tell her parents?"
"I went by Sam's, and he was so busy I don't think he'd hear a word of it, even if I told him." He cleared his throat and glanced down at the floor. "And I'd rather not talk to Kate."
"Can't say I blame you, son. That girl has always wanted you. If she even thinks you're interested, there's no stopping her."
That was exactly why Nick had never wanted to talk to Kate about Amanda. In fact, he knew he was taking a chance simply being nice to the girl. He counted on Amanda not telling her mother about seeing him, due to the circumstances.
"Oh, Mama, I have a question."
"What's that?"
"Since when did Papa start having Sam do his taxes?"
"Since Sam offered to do them instead of having Amanda put in juvie."
"So Sam knows about Amanda?"
"Of course he does."
Nick shook his head. "This is one crazy place."
She grinned. "Yes, and we love it, Nick. So do you. You just haven't figured it out yet."
Nick waited until Tuesday to stop by Paula's shop. "Have you heard from Amanda yet?"
Paula shook her head. "Nope, not yet."
"If she doesn't contact you by tomorrow, let me know."
"Nick, I'm really not sure this is such a good idea. I'm not equipped to deal with a girl with her problems."
"Oh, but I think you are. All you have to do is hold her accountable for what she did and show her what grace is. That should come natural to you."
She smiled. "Thanks for the compliment, but this is something I don't have experience with."
"I wasn't saying it to compliment you, Paula. It's a fact. That's what attracted me to you when we first met."
Paula picked up a piece of paper and pretended to fan herself. "And all this time I thought it was my dazzling good looks and Southern charm."
"Well, that too." He grinned.
"Okay, I'll do what I can—that is, if she comes by."
"So do you want to do something with me Friday night?"
Paula tilted her head and gave him a mock coy smile. "Why Friday? Why not tomorrow?"
"No reason. Wanna go out tomorrow?"
"Why, Nick, sugah, I was thinking you might want to stop over at my place for a bite of dinnah. I can cook up somethin' real good."
He laughed and shook his head. "Are you serving grits?"
"If that's what your little heart desires."
"Okay, Paula, this is over the top, even for you."
She gasped. "I can't believe you actually came right out and said that. Where are your manners, mistah?"
Nick edged toward the door. "What time do you want me at your place?"
"Seven would be good." She batted her eyelashes and waved the paper a couple more times before putting it down.
"Are you serious about cooking, or should I bring something?"
Paula laughed. "I reckon I can handle one little measly meal."
"Yeah, I reckon you can." He left the shop laughing. "Is Alexa working today?"
"She's coming in late because she has a dental appointment."
A little after three o'clock, the bell on the front door jingled. Paula came out of the back room to greet her customer. It was Amanda. "Hi, I see you decided to grace us with your presence."
"Us?" Amanda glanced around. "Who else is here?"
Paula rolled her eyes. "Are you here to work?"
"No, I'm here to rob you blind." She bobbed her head and let out a throaty growl. "Just tell me what you want me to do so I can get it over with."
"C'mon to the back room. I have a broom and dustpan with your name on it."
"Seriously? With my name on it?"
"No, Amanda, that's just an expression." This girl really did need some attention. When Paula got to the back room, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Amanda was with her. She picked up the broom and dustpan and handed them to Amanda. "Start at the front and work your way to the back."
Amanda took the broom. "Just put the dustpan over there, and I'll get it when I need it."
Paula knew this was a power play, but since it didn't matter she did what Amanda asked. A customer came in, and Paula waited on her. Every so often she glanced at Amanda out the corner of her eye and saw that the girl was listening to every word she said. Another customer came in, keeping Paula busy for another ten minutes.
Finally, after the last customer left, Amanda stopped sweeping and stared at her. "What?" Paula asked, realizing too late the word came out more harshly than she intended. "Did you need something?"
"Why did you open this shop?"
"I wanted my own business, and there wasn't a soap and candle shop already here."
"There are a lot of things not here. Why soap and candles?"
Paula explained how she'd seen all-natural candles in a store in Atlanta and that it made sense to be more earth friendly. What surprised Paula was how attentive Amanda was. "As for the soaps, that seemed like a natural thing to add to the mix."
Amanda nodded. "I like your stuff."
That was obvious, but Paula didn't want to talk about what Amanda had tried to steal. "Have you ever thought about what you want to do when you're older?"
18
Sometimes." Amanda held the broom at an angle. "I've thought about a lot of different things."
"Anything you'd like to tell me about?"
Paula expected Amanda to blow her off, but she didn't. "I might like to do something with old people."
That was something Paula never would have guessed. "Like what?"
"There's this lady who got my grandma her apartment, and she helps my grandma with all her doctor appointments. I think I might like to do what she does."
"So you want to help older people?" Paula thought that sounded like a very grown-up aspiration. "Do you know anything about how she got her job?"
Amanda shook her head. "I asked my grandma what that lady's job was, and she said she was a social worker."
"Did you know you have to go to college for that?"
The girl shifted her broom and cast her gaze downward. "Yeah, so I guess I better come up with something else, 'cause I'll never get into college."
"And why not?" Paula took a step closer.
"My grades are terrible, my mother doesn't have the money, my dad doesn't want anything to do with me, and who would want me anyway?"
"What grade are you in now, Amanda?"
"I'm a junior."
Paula studied her. She certainly didn't seem like the same person who'd tried to steal from her a couple of days ago. There was something different. Something vulnerable about her.
"It's not too late to turn the grades around," Paula said. "As for the money, there are scholarships and grants for people who really want to go to college."
Amanda snorted. "As if I'd ever get one of those."
"Seriously, you might if you really want it. You have to work for it, though." Paula walked back to the counter. "But maybe you don't want it enough to do what it takes."
"Yeah, maybe not." Amanda started sweeping again. Paula thought the conversation was over, until Amanda stopped sweeping abruptly. "You really think I can do it? I mean the college thing?"
"Yes, I do. But it won't be easy. You'll have to spend a lot of time with your nose in a book."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "I hate history."
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Yeah."
"So did I. And I had to work really hard to get a B in it. It seemed like no matter how hard I studied, I couldn't make an A. There was this one teacher . . ." Paula tapped her finger on her chin. "Can't remember her name, but she didn't like me at all. I tried hard to get everything right with her, but no matter what I did, I felt like she had it out for me."
"I have a teacher like that." Amanda had stopped sweeping again. "Ms. Nelson."
Paula widened her eyes. "That's the same lady. She must be, like, a hundred years old by now."
Amanda smiled. "At least. She makes us read a whole chapter in one night. It's so boring."
"I'll tell you another secret, Amanda. After I graduated from college, I went back to visit some of my old teachers."
"You went to see Ms. Nelson?"
"Not intentionally, but my favorite teacher just happened to be in the classroom next to hers. She heard me, so she came to say hi. She said she was glad I'd made something of myself because I was always one of her favorite students."
Amanda snickered. "Why didn't she ever give you an A?"
Paula shrugged. "I guess because I didn't earn one. But she knew how hard I tried."
"You should have gotten an A just for that."
"So how bad are your grades?"
Amanda thought for a minute. "Um . . . mostly Bs and Cs. One D."
"The D is in Ms. Nelson's class, right?"
Amanda n
odded and cracked a smile. "Of course."
A customer came in, so Paula told Amanda to finish sweeping and they'd talk later. As Paula helped the woman find the scent she wanted, she noticed that Amanda seemed to be listening to the conversation again. After the customer paid, Paula dug out a form to start working on her next order.
"Do you think I might be able to get a C in Ms. Nelson's class?"
Paula looked up. "Probably. No guarantee, but I might be able to help you."
Amanda lifted her eyebrows. "How?"
"Why don't you bring your history book with you tomorrow, and I'll show you a few things."
"We're having a test on Friday."
"Perfect timing then." Paula smiled. "I bet we can study for that too."
Alexa came in at five. "Sorry, but I had to wait at the dentist's office. Someone came in with a dental emergency."
"That's fine, but I need to run. Nick's coming over for dinner."
Alexa grinned. "Yes, I know. Have fun."
On the way home, Paula picked up some food for dinner. Nick would eat anything she put in front of him, but since his family worked in the restaurant business, he had access to the best Greek food in town. So she figured she'd fix him something different. Something her mother used to cook—baked chicken and macaroni and cheese. Couldn't mess that up if she tried.
Nick arrived a few minutes before time to pull the food from the oven. "Mmm. Smells good." He followed her into the kitchen. "I heard Amanda came by today. So how'd it go?"
"Good to know the grapevine in Tarpon Springs is still alive and buzzing." She put on her oven mitt and paused. "You were right about Amanda. She's not as bad as I thought."
"So what did you have her do?"
"She swept."
"Is that all?" He stood at the door, filling the space with his arms folded and his feet shoulder-width apart. Paula nearly gulped as she glanced away. His attractiveness overwhelmed her at times.
"Is that all?" she repeated. "What do you want me to do to that girl?"
"Make sure she repays you for the trouble she caused." He tilted his head toward her. "And let her see how much better her life will be if she stays on the straight and narrow."