A Charmed Little Lie

by Sharla Lovelace

  “Nick McKane,” he said, shaking her hand.

  “McKane?” she asked, tilting her head. “I thought it was McKnight.” She laughed. “Mc-something, I guess. I’m probably remembering the obituary wrong.”

  I didn’t look at Nick or acknowledge the fact that I’d carried my lie into the newspaper obituary. Damn it, why did I ever give him a name? Thank God it was at least close.

  “Y’all are dressed up today,” she said, thankfully moving on.

  “Had some will stuff to take care of,” I said, setting my menu down. “Speaking of which, you know of anyone hiring?”

  Allie’s eyebrows raised a notch. “For what?”

  “Anything,” I said. “We just found out we have to live here in the house for three months in order to inherit it.”

  She pulled a face. “What the hell?”

  “That was my reaction too,” I said. “Plus a few stronger ones.”

  “What about your jobs? Your lives?”

  I had no idea how I was going to pull off a three-month leave at work, get my rent-house sublet so I didn’t lose it, and get everything I needed/wanted for three months packed up and to Texas, so we could start this debacle. Not to mention, I should probably call Carmen and see if she knew a judge that would do this quietly and quickly.

  “Apparently, my sweet old Aunt Ruby had a wicked streak,” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my tone. “So if you hear of anything?”

  “Well, nothing on your level, but off the bat I can say I heard that the bank is looking for tellers. I don’t know how much they pay,” she added. “Bash is always needing help with the hives—oh, and Dixon Lee said something about being shorthanded at the hardware store.”

  “Hives?” Nick asked.

  “The honeybee hives,” she said. “Bash—Sebastian Anderson—runs the largest of the Charmed apiaries.”

  “So that sign coming into town wasn’t just being warm and fuzzy,” Nick said.

  “Nooooo,” I said. “Charmed takes their honey seriously. Bash, even more so.”

  “Yes, he does,” she said, a small smile on her face. “You haven’t been here before?” Allie asked him.

  Crap.

  “Just once,” he lied smoothly, chuckling with that knock-em-on-their-ass smile. “But it was a quick trip and I didn’t pay attention.”

  He was good.

  Allie nodded. “Well, like I said, there’s not going to be anything here on the level that you’re probably used to.”

  Just shoot me.

  I smiled. “Can’t afford to be picky.”

  She laughed. “If I thought that were really true, I’d hire you as a waitress or a fry cook. I’m down both. My head chef retires in a couple of weeks and Dave the fry cook is desperately trying to learn everything.” She leaned over. “I wouldn’t recommend anything too complicated right now,” she whispered. “I’m about to go help him out.”

  “Sold,” Nick said.

  She blinked in surprise. “What?”

  “Hire me,” he said without hesitation. “But for the chef job, not the fry cook.”

  “You—you cook?” I watched Allie’s eyes slide over his GQ appearance.

  “I do,” he said. “Very well.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “I can go make you something right now.”

  She chuckled. “You know, there’s being able to cook, and there’s cooking on a line. In a diner kitchen.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he said, a smile pulling at his mouth.

  “And Chef would never let a patron in his kitchen,” she added.

  Nick laughed. “I understand that. So I guess you’ll have to take me at my word.”

  Her lips curled up at the corners. “I don’t have to do anything,” she said. “I’m not the one who needs a job.”

  Nick paused a second, then nodded a concession. “True enough. But you do need a chef.”

  It was like watching a ping pong match, wondering who was going to catch the ball and put the paddle down.

  Allie knocked her knuckles on the counter. “I’ll be right back.

  He winked at me as she disappeared.

  “You still want a burger?”

  God, was that today? It felt like a week ago.

  “You heard her, he’ll never let you back there.”

  “Yes or no?”

  I hung my head. “That again.”

  “Come on, Mrs. McKane, burger or plate dish?”

  That popped my head up, meeting those mischievous eyes of his. The game. Mrs. McKane, indeed.

  “Burger,” I said. “Well done.”

  “Spicy, or no?” he asked.

  “Spicy.”

  He narrowed his eyes, a refreshed look about him, the challenge firing him up.

  “Raw onions or grilled?”

  “Neither.”

  Allie came back, tying on an apron as she grabbed a water glass to fill.

  “You have fifteen minutes to convince Benny,” she said.

  “Benny decides?”

  “In there, he does,” she said. “He’s been here my whole life, and runs a tight ship. Anyone replacing him, even short-term, needs to do the same.” She turned back as Nick stood. “And if you get this, the deal is you train a replacement in that same standard before you leave.”

  “Deal.”

  He was almost vibrating.

  “All right,” she said, gesturing with a tilt of her head. “Get after it. But you—”

  Nick was already sans jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

  “Okay then,” she said, chuckling in my direction. “A real go-getter you have here.”

  “Seems so,” I said under my breath.

  * * *

  I snuck behind the counter to watch through the serving window, and did a double-take on the three women who piled up behind me.

  “You’re not supposed to be back here,” I whispered, turning to look at them.

  “Neither are you,” one of them said.

  “It’s my husband,” I said.

  How frighteningly bizarre and normal that felt, rolling off my tongue. Having been engaged for all of thirty minutes, evidently that made me a pro at this married business.

  “That hot guy? That was Lanie Barrett’s husband,” I heard someone say from somewhere else in the lobby.

  Amazing how everyone still knew who I was, and I’d been gone forever. That was why. When you stay in a small town, you fade. You blend. But it’s like there’s some secret plaque somewhere with the names of those who leave, with a spotlight shining on it. The daring and the brave, who have seen outside the dome. And come home with James Bond.

  Nick was walking the station while old Benny hovered, looking very unhappy.

  “Do you mind if I peek in the fridge? See my choices?” he asked.

  “I thought you were making a burger,” the old man said, a frown creasing the skin over his nose. “How many choices you need?”

  “I am,” Nick said, thumbing behind him. “For her. I’d like something too.” He turned to Allie. “Have you eaten?”

  “Don’t get cocky, Nick,” I whispered to myself. Like I knew him well enough to say that.

  She laughed. “You wanting to show off?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “But I do want to show that I know how to manage my time.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Make me a chopped spinach leaf salad with sautéed chicken.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Caramelized with honey glaze,” she added. “Cracked peppercorn dressing, crushed almonds, and shaved carrots.”

  “We don’t have—” Benny began.

  “Shhh,” Allie said.

  “Damn, Allie,” I muttered. “Give him a chance.”

  He didn’t look fazed, however, opening the big fridge door to scan over the contents whether Benny cared or not.

  “When do I begin?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Allie said. “I’
ll be back in a bit.”

  Nick pulled out fresh ground meat, eggs, butter, three different kinds of greens, and a bag of something. Deposited those on a counter and headed to the pantry as feet scuttled behind me. I turned to see Allie standing with hands on her hips as my little posse of onlookers disbanded.

  “Why are you behind my counter?” she asked, although her eyes held a glimmer of amusement.

  I pointed. “I can’t miss this,” I said. Play it, sister.

  Allie rolled her eyes and moved to take a new order. The women started to round the counter again and she made a clicking noise with her tongue.

  “Lanie, only.”

  “Spousal privilege,” I threw over my shoulder.

  “Don’t push it,” Allie said.

  He was already chopping leafy greens and spinach like he had a bionic arm. My God, he was fast. I’d never understand how they did that. He sprinkled something and tossed it all. Cracked fresh peppercorns into a bowl with olive oil and something else. Stirred honey into another bowl and seasoned it. Slathered butter on thick-sliced nutty bread and seared it, setting that on a plate. He chopped up peppers and onions and tossed half in a skillet and the other half into the bowl of ground meat, and then proceeded to season and press out the most beautiful meat patty I’d ever seen.

  In three different pans, I watched him fry two eggs sunny side up, my burger, and the chicken, while cutting up fresh strawberries.

  The magic happened when all at once, three plates filled up on a platter. My burger, gorgeously sizzling on an open bun with slices of avocado gleaming on top. Sliced strawberries were arranged in a little mound next to it. Allie’s plate held her salad, all dressed in carrots and almonds and honey-glazed chicken that I could smell from the window. Two fried eggs on toast adorned another plate, next to a small pile of freshly shaved hash browns and strawberries.

  “Allie, you want to see this,” I said.

  She walked back into the kitchen just as he finished plating, and gazed at his creations.

  “Holy shit,” she mumbled.

  “Your salad, ma’am,” he said, handing it to her.

  She glanced up at him as she grabbed a fork and speared a bite of chicken and spinach.

  “Mmm,” she said, chewing slowly. “Damn.”

  “We don’t have a cracked peppercorn dressing,” Bennie said, clearly needing to make that point.

  “We do now,” she said, looking down at the other plates. “Okay, breakfast for you, nothing crazy there. Nice hash browns, though.”

  She picked up my burger and handed it to me through the window.

  “Cut that and see if it’s well done.”

  I did. It was. It was possibly more perfect than the last one I’d seen him do.

  “Spot on.”

  But that wasn’t all. I bit back a smile when I saw the corn. He’d made me Maque Choux. Cajun corn with sweet peppers.

  Allie looked back at Nick, who was already nearly done cleaning up after himself.

  “Go eat your food while it’s hot,” she said. “Let me talk to Benny.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stopped to shake Benny’s hand, and I saw the old man’s expression change. “Thank you,” Nick said. “It was an honor.”

  When he came out with his plate and sat by me with a heavy exhale, he met my eyes.

  “Wow,” I said.

  And that wasn’t just for the cooking show. It was a word that fell out of my mouth in response to all of it. The food, the confidence, and the very real roaring fire going on behind his eyes. If I were a betting person, I would have gambled on him having a hard-on from hell right then. He had loved every single second of that challenge, and it was so palpable I found myself holding my breath.

  “Don’t wow me yet,” he said, nodding toward my plate. “Taste it first. Tell me what you think.”

  I picked up one of the halves, and shoved as much as I could into my mouth. I was past worrying about impressing him or looking feminine. I was ravenous.

  “Om dnrr Gmd,” I grunted around the heaven in my mouth. I closed my eyes and just savored every flavor.

  “Good?”

  “I’m in love,” I said with a sigh, then cutting a quick look his way. “With the burger.”

  Nick grinned. “Of course.”

  “It’s amazing.”

  “Worth waiting all day for?”

  “No.” He laughed out loud, and it made my skin tingle. “Seriously, I would have almost chewed on Ralph about now. But oh man, this is by far the best burger ever.”

  He sat back with a satisfied smile and dug into his own food. Just as the kitchen door swung open.

  “Job’s yours,” Allie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can you be back in two weeks? Benny said he’d even stay a day or two over to help you get your bearings.” She shook her head. “And Benny doesn’t help anybody.”

  Nick looked at me, a question in his eyes. Two weeks. I had no idea. There was so much to do. Like get married. But there was something else in his eyes too. More than a need for a paycheck. A need for vindication. For appreciation. I remembered how they talked to him in that other diner. It would be different here; he would be in charge of the kitchen. And it glowed on him.

  “If nothing else, you can come ahead of me,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Thank you,” he mouthed.

  There were goose bumps again, but I told myself it was the food.

  Only the food.

  I bought a jar of the honey just to be sure.

  That night, after a rousing game of Scrabble (I won) because the cable was turned off, and after we took turns using two different showers because the plumbing didn’t allow for both at once, and after we spent an hour looking for shoes we’d just left in the foyer, we both passed out. Well, sort of. We retreated to separate rooms. I laid my head on Aunt Ruby’s pillow and listened to Nick talk to Ralph down the hall.

  Could we pull this off? Could I? Could I marry a man I’d just met today in order to keep this house? Not to mention live with him for three months. What if he was a serial killer? What if he was a chronic farter? What if he liked mustard?

  The bed rocked as Ralph jumped up.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said. His big head sagged onto my knee as he laid down, looking at me all sad. Poor guy. He didn’t know where he was or where his mom was. He was confused. I reached down and stroked an ear. “Me too, boy,” I said. “Me too. But if you pee on me again tonight, you’re riding as a hood ornament tomorrow.”

  “Date the jock, but marry the nerd. He’ll appreciate you more.”

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks goes fast when you’re in a full panic. When every seed of logic feeds another seed and the what-the-fucks are taking you down.

  I’d covered all the bases, even managed to somehow snow my boss into a sympathy rehire upon my return. Something about breaking into very real tears during a panic attack while quitting a perfectly good job.

  Family emergency (not a total lie) and I don’t know what to do broke her, and she told me not to worry, that she’d hire me back when I returned.

  I’m pretty sure it was more about stemming my hyperventilation than it was about my superb work history, but I wasn’t complaining. It was a blessing. Not hey-we’ll-pay-you-while-you’re-gone level of blessing, but still a significant burden off my shoulders.

  I’d called the bank in Charmed and inquired about the teller job Allie had mentioned, so I had an interview in three days. Possibly a good thing.

  A coworker had a niece in need of short-term living arrangements while she finalized a divorce, so my rent house was safe. Ralph was still with me for reasons I didn’t yet know but Tilly had left me a message under a new number, promising to fill me in. Soon. Having a new number did nothing to make me really believe that.

  And I’d had Aunt Ruby’s cable and internet access turned back on so we’d have something to do other than stare
at each other and play board games.

  All the boxes were checked.

  All except that getting married one.

  I was in the car—my car—headed back to Charmed. Headed to Carmen’s office first, actually, where she would be waiting today with a JP friend of hers willing to break state law and issue a marriage license and marry us in the same day. As if we needed one more strike against us.

  Nick would meet me there at one o’clock.

  To marry me.

  So I could keep Aunt Ruby’s house.

  And so he could help his daughter or fund the mob or make women’s underwear or whatever the hell he needed the money for. We never covered that. We never covered anything. We never talked about anything, because we played fucking Scrabble and then went to bed and then drove home the next day with music blaring so we wouldn’t have to. After a coffee debate first thing that morning, where he spent twenty minutes telling me the evils of caffeine after two cups. He’d told me he loved coffee. If I weren’t so desperate, that could have been grounds for nixing the whole thing right there.

  And now it was twelve-thirty and I was sweating through my sundress that I’d decided to wear, since it was my very first time to get married.

  I swerved to the shoulder, opened my door, leaned out, and threw up.

  “Oh my God,” I choked, groping behind me into the center console for a fast food napkin. “What am I doing?”

  Ralph barked from the back seat.

  “I really don’t need your commentary right now,” I said, wiping at my eyes. “I’m kind of having a moment.”

  My cell rang in the next one.

  “Shit,” I muttered, hitting the button on my steering wheel. “Hello?”

  “Hey!” Carmen’s voice rang through the speakers. “How’s the trip?”

  “Great,” I said, patting my face. “Just puking on my wedding day.”

  “God, I’m sorry, Lanie,” she said. “This whole thing is crazy.”

  “You think?”

  “Are you having second thoughts?” she asked.

  “Second, third,” I huffed. “Nineteenth.” I sat back and tried to regulate my breathing. “But there’s not really a choice unless I want to hand everything over to Bryce.” My fingers closed on an empty CD case and I picked it up to fan my face. “It’s just not how I pictured it all going down.”