by Chiah Wilder
“Aren’t you ever going to let that go?” Lena laughed despite herself, and the release was more than welcome. “Besides, I don’t need some big, strong man hanging around me. I got it all taken care of, and it’ll be fine.” She’d be damned if she admitted to Fe that Tank had been on her mind earlier that night.
“Says the woman checking her place for errant bikers ready to kick her ass.”
Lena rolled her eyes. A quick canvas of the rest of the condo proved everything was the same as when she’d left the house for the restaurant that morning. The condo was small, and the open floor plan eliminated any places for a couple of bikers to hide. And there was no way anyone could fit into the closet in her bedroom. The walk-in was filled to the brim with different chef uniforms, fancy dresses for her catering business, and enough shoes to open a footwear museum.
Walking out of the bedroom, she opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. She stared out at the ocean, letting the darkness of the night envelope her. The lights along the coastline glittered under the moonlight, and she caught a few people walking hand-in-hand along the boardwalk. The waves rolled in with their soothing sound, and the tension that had had a stranglehold on her since the two men entered the bistro fell away. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Since she was a little girl, she’d always loved the ocean. Salty air, lacy waves washing ashore, squawking seagulls, breakers crashing against the pillars of the piers, and the seeming endlessness of the Pacific hugged and comforted her every time.
Felicia’s voice pulled her out of her musings. “Hey, have you eaten anything?”
“Not since this morning.”
Felicia clucked her tongue. It was something she did when she disapproved of a behavior.
“All right. I’ll get off the phone and grab something from the fridge. You don’t need to hound me about it. The next thing you know, you’ll be telling me Tank could have fixed me a sandwich and brought it to me on a silver platter.”
“It would be a start. And I bet he’d do it.” Lena could hear her best friend smile on the other end of the line.
I bet so too.
“Thanks for listening. I almost feel normal again.” Lena giggled. “There’s a bottle of white wine calling my name in the fridge, so I better get to it.”
“Don’t forget the sandwich, or you won’t be any good in the morning.”
“True. We’ll talk soon.”
Lena went back inside, walked into the kitchen, and made herself a sandwich with whatever was in the fridge—which happened to be cheese, tomato, and bacon, and a large glass of white wine finished it off. While she ate standing at the kitchen counter, she browsed her phone for extra security measures for the bistro and her home.
The thugs did one thing that she’d never forgive them for: they took away her sense of security.
A few days later, on a day with a bright sun in a cornflower-blue sky, Lena drove along Imperial Avenue, breathing in the briny air. Of all the routes to town, this one was her favorite, even though it took her several miles out of her way. The winding road wove around multi-million-dollar mansions layered into the rocky hillsides overlooking the ocean before curving around the bluffs, giving drivers and passengers alike front-row seats to the rocks, the beach, and the crashing waves, with ocean as far as the eye could see. Lena never tired of the view—it was breathtaking and humbling at the same time. This drive was her go-to place when the stresses and fears of life weighed too heavily on her. After what happened the night before, Imperial Avenue was the perfect antidote, and she didn’t have to pay a therapist a fortune for it.
A Mustang convertible pulled out of a space in front of the bistro, and Lena cruised into it. Grabbing her purse, she rushed into the eatery.
Customers filled every table in the small space, and there was an impressive line behind the cases displaying a colorful assortment of cookies and cupcakes. Decorating cookies was another way in which Lena relaxed, and early that morning, she’d baked dozens of them.
“Bad night?” Adalyn had asked when she saw the stack of baking sheets in the sink.
“The worst. One of the cases in the front shattered.” Lena hadn’t given too many details, not wanting to involve the employees in the drama. The business was hers, along with all the responsibility—good and bad—that came with it.
“Give me a sec and I’ll help out,” Lena said as she rushed back to her office. After securing her purse in the safe, she donned an apron and slipped behind the counter.
The following hour was a blur of baked goods, parchment paper, boxes, and ribbons. But by the end of it, most of the cookies and all the cupcakes were gone. The croissant sandwiches had also disappeared. She was happy, but the memory of the hoodlums doused it. She had to pay them fifteen percent of the restaurant’s earnings. Anger burned through her at the thought of her no longer working for the business and her future, but rather working so two losers didn’t have to. I have to do something about this. Then she remembered Sheriff Windsor and his deputies were on top of it, and she relaxed.
“You’ve got to be pissed more often.” Adalyn joked. “We couldn’t sell them fast enough. It’s been like that all day.”
“If it keeps up through dinner, you may be able to get another display case soon,” Sarah noted.
Adalyn raised her brow. “Isn’t the insurance going to cover it?”
“Clumsiness isn’t covered.”
Before Adalyn could ask another question, Lena ducked into the back area and went to her office. Picking up the file Heath had dropped off, she took her purse out of the safe and walked back into the bistro.
“I’m heading out to the print shop to get some flyers done. Heath turned over the new branding he’s been working on for the past few months, and I want everything to be ready for the next holiday sale we put together. Are you guys going to be okay?” Lena asked as she took the flash drive out of the file and dropped it into her purse.
Adalyn smiled. “We’ll be fine. We have the meeting for the Offerman wedding later tonight too. Anything you need me to prep for that?”
Lena smiled back and shook her head. Thankfully, Adalyn was always on her game. Lena made a mental note to give her a promotion when everything finally wound down from the wedding season. Without a doubt, her star employee could manage it, and Lena had enough in the bank to facilitate a small pay raise for one of her hardest workers. Well, she would, so long as she didn’t have to pay off those thugs. Her body tensed at the memory and she rolled her shoulders, trying to shake it off.
“I’ll keep my phone on if you need me,” she informed her before walking out the door.
Hissing, she braced her hand over her eyes at the early afternoon sun. That was one thing she wasn’t used to much of anymore; she rarely came outside when there was sunlight. There was too much work to be done inside, and by the time everything was marked off her list, it was dark. Still, the short walk through town to the print shop wasn’t unwelcomed. As she strolled down San Juan Street, she made sure to pay attention to the buzz of the crowds, the pungent aromas from the lunch rush at the corner cafes, and the fronds of the palm trees swaying in the midday air.
After the realization that she was living life with her head down, coupled with the brush of danger the night before, she was trying to take more time to appreciate the little things, like being able to walk around the town square, enjoying the temperate wind twirling through her loose hair.
Lena stopped in front of the printing shop Mr. DeLuca—the owner of the ceramic store a few doors down from the bistro—had highly recommended.
A customer pushed past her with a murmured apology as he entered. A burst of cold air circulated around her feet, then quickly dissipated into the warmth of the summer day. For a split second, she dreaded going into the artificial light of the shop, but she couldn’t lollygag all afternoon. She had a ton of paperwork to finish back at the office, and then she had to meet with the Offermans.
An electronic buzz squaw
ked loudly when she entered the shop, and she flinched. It was hardly as charming as her happy bell, but to each their own. Various computers, shelves of organized paper, and enormous printers behind the counter made her break out into a sweat. As embarrassed as she was to admit it, technology had never been her strong suit. When she thought about how much money she’d spent on computer courses, she cringed.
Lena lightly fingered the flash drive in her purse while she waited behind the customer who had bumped into her outside.
There was a teenage boy waiting on him, bumbling around a bit. He kept talking in small fits and starts, as if he was overwhelmed, and he whirled around in place, looking at the various computer monitors before frantically typing something into the laptop in front of him.
“I need some help here,” the teenager called out in a pleading voice, laced with urgency and panic.
“I’m coming. We’ll get it all sorted, don’t worry about it,” a deep, gravelly voice said from the back room.
Every cell in her body stood at attention. That voice. It sounds like Tank, but it can’t be. I can’t picture him in a printing store.
“What seems to be the problem?” Tank asked as he crossed over to the clerk.
It’s him. A million butterflies fluttered in her stomach. I have to get out of here. He hasn’t seen me yet. But she didn’t budge from her spot. Just seeing him made her giddy, nervous, and happy all at once.
Straightening her shoulders, she watched as Tank’s tattoos danced along his tanned and oh, so very toned arms while he looked over the kid’s shoulder. She couldn’t help but notice that his jeans fit him perfectly in all the right places, and that the tight-fitting gray T-shirt he wore molded to his chest in the best possible way. Yeah, he fit the part of the sexy bad boy parents warned their daughters about.
“It’s all fixed. Your order will be ready in two days.” Tank walked over to the counter.
“Thanks for your patience, Mr. Rinaldo. Sometimes these machines can be fickle.”
The man in front of her nodded. “It’s no problem, Tank. You always take good care of your customers.”
Silently, she prayed her pulse would go back to normal and her body would cool down. Focus. Glancing behind her, she stared enviously at the door. I have to get out of—
“Lena?” She jerked around and looked at him. “I was wondering when we’d bump into each other. I was ready to give Dawson a call, though. You’ve been on my mind.”
“I’ve been busy. Your shop was recommended to me.” She took the flash drive out of her purse and waved it in the air. “Business. Pure business.”
“That’s what they all say.” He winked, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief as he patted the teenager on the shoulder. “It should work now for the next customer. Do you have any questions, Dylan?”
“Nah, we worked out the bugs. Thanks, sir.” Dylan typed in a series of strokes before making his way toward one of the massive printers to the left.
Tank turned back to her. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Come over here and I’ll get you squared away.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll take real good care of me,” Lena muttered under her breath, hearing her best friend say the exact same thing as she pushed the flash drive toward him.
“I need five hundred of these—white paper, color ink.”
Nodding, he typed something into the computer without diverting his attention from her.
A smile stretched across his lips. “So serious, and all business.”
“That’s me, all the time.”
“Well, let’s do this.”
Lena focused on answering a million and one questions about paper quality, weight, finish, and other printing options she never knew existed.
When he asked if the graphics were Pantone colors, she threw up her hands and laughed. “Are you making up some of these questions so I’ll stay longer?”
“I’m not lame. What kind of pansy-asses have you been hanging around? I don’t make up shit just to talk with a woman.”
Suddenly, she noticed they were the only two people in the lobby. Dylan must have gone to the back room without her noticing. And for some reason, knowing that they were all alone ramped up her adrenaline until she was trembling.
“And I can call” —he looked at the computer screen— “Heath and ask him about the Pantone colors.”
“So there really are Pantone colors?”
“Yeah.”
Heat crept up her neck. “Oh.”
Pulling out the flash drive, he dropped it into a plastic case. “How soon do you need these flyers?”
“Next week’s okay.”
“I can probably have them back to you sooner than that, but I’ll note that in your file.” He tapped something into the computer, then put the plastic case into a large envelope and sealed it. “That’s all done.” He came over to the counter and leaned toward her, scanning her face. “Business is finished. So, how’ve you been?”
She licked her lips. “Good. You?”
“I can’t complain. Is your catering office nearby?”
“Not really. I heard your store did excellent work, but I had no idea you owned it.” Scrunching her nose, she said, “You do own it, right?”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “I do. You’re not the only business owner in town.”
Laughing, she playfully smacked his forearm. “I know that.” His eyes followed her movement. “I never would’ve pictured you owning a printing business.”
“Why not?”
“No reason.”
“So when you tell me you’re busy building up your business, I get it, but I also know it’s healthy to take a step away from it once in a while.”
“I keep getting reminded of that, and I am trying.”
“Prove it. Go out to dinner with me.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Asking. I want to get to know you better.”
A nervous laugh escaped past her lips. “I’ve got some deep issues, and I’m a bit obsessive, so be careful what you wish for.”
Warm fingers ran down the side of her face, stroking her cheek. “Everyone’s got issues, but they still need to eat.”
The simple touch of his hand on her skin sent sparks sizzling through her veins. She shifted in place.
“You know I’m right,” he pressed.
Maybe he was. Life was stressful enough with the constant strain of keeping up with a booming business, but now extortion had been added to the mix. By her calculations, she’d have to double her output to make up what those lowlifes were stealing from her. And when was the last time she did something that wasn’t work related? I can’t even remember. And going out on a date hasn’t happened since… forever. She took him in, his elbows propped on the counter, resting his chin on his hands, a wide grin adorning his face.
“I’m not asking you to sail around the world with me for a year. I’m just asking about one meal. It’s not that complicated.”
But the way her body behaved when he was near her, she’d have to disagree. Dinner with Tank was very complicated. But with everything else going on in her life at the moment, what was one more fly in the ointment?
“Okay.”
He straightened up, his grin growing wider. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.” A small buzz of excitement swiped down her arms and legs as the earlier butterflies nested in her belly.
“What day works for you?”
“Any day, really. But it’ll have to be after nine. I know that’s late for dinner, but––”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make a reservation for nine thirty and pick you up. Does Saturday night work?”
Saturday. This really is a date. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Do you want me to pick you up at work or at your place?”
Lena didn’t want him knowing about the restaurant. If things worked out between them, she’d share that part of her life, but if they didn’t, then she wouldn’t have to w
orry about him coming to her place of business and bugging her.
“I’ll meet you. I’m usually all over the county, so it’s easier that way.”
“Right.” He turned away and went over to one of the printers. “Come over here. I’ll make you a stack of flyers for free so you can hand them out at parties between now and when the high-quality ones are done.”
Taking in a deep breath, Lena went behind the counter and stood a sizeable distance away from Tank. Frankly, she couldn’t trust herself around him. He was giving off a ton of sexy vibes, and if she didn’t get out of there soon, she feared she’d do something that would embarrass the hell out of her.
She pressed her lips together as he fiddled around with the printer. Turning, he handed her his phone with an empty contact screen. Without thinking too hard about it, she typed in her information, with a quick note in quotations next to her name.
Looking at the screen, he gave her an incredulous look before tucking the phone back into his pocket. “What the fuck? You noted yourself as ‘the caterer’ in my phone?”
“I don’t know how many women you have listed in there.”
He let out a long, low whistle and smiled. “I can see I’ve got to stay on my toes with you, Lena.”
“Just for one night.” The words just flew out of her mouth, but she didn’t bother to take them back.
“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?”
“That all depends on your behavior, Tank.”
Lena couldn’t keep a straight face. She laughed as she slipped her fingers around the stack of freshly printed flyers he handed her.
“That’s really endearing.”
“What?” Her laughter died away when she met his suddenly serious gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“The way you crinkle your nose up when you laugh. It’s cute as hell.” He said it in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it made total sense that he was pointing it out. “And now you’re looking at me like I’m nuts. Aren’t you used to compliments?”
