At Any Price

by Theresa Leigh

  I had to know more about her, I knew that, right down in my gut.

  "What do you think?" Parker said. "Are you up for a few games?"

  I took another bite of my meal, and chewed thoughtfully before washing it down with the wine that our waitress had poured while I was staring at Charlie. Then I searched the room again until I caught sight of her curls.

  "Depends," I said to Parker. "Can I bring a date?"

  Chapter Nine

  Charlie

  Ducking back into the narrow hallway where our lockers were hidden, I quietly slipped my phone out of my bag and sighed with relief when I saw that Maisie had texted me right back.

  "All is well," she wrote, before sending a series of pictures of Malcolm playing in his jammies. The last one made me grin ear-to-ear. My son gazed up from my phone screen with a triumphantly toothy smile. Both of his grabby little hands were sunk way down in a sea of orange fluff that belonged to Maisie's cat Bonzo, who looked up at the camera as if pleading for help.

  I felt my shoulders go down as I exhaled slowly. I'd been worried about him the whole evening. This was his first time at a sitter's in his whole short life — first time away from my Mom and the first night he'd be put down somewhere than his own bed. With Malcolm seeming to be adjusting to Maisie's just fine — even after the mishap on the way over there — my worried focus was able to snap back to my mother and wonder how bad it was going to be this time.

  The good times with her were always wonderful. She was helpful and supportive and though she liked to lay the guilt on a little thick, she always came through for me, doubly so once Malcolm was born. People would ask me about being a single mother and I'd say I might be single but I wasn't doing it alone because I had my mom.

  But the truth was, I had her for only as long as it took for another bad spell to send her crashing into her bed where she'd lay unmoving for days, only the faintest stifled sob signaling that she was still alive at all.

  When I was a kid, my father would shield me from the blackest of her depressions. But when he died, it all fell to me. I was thirteen when I learned the truth. That my mother's mental illness would always be with her. She'd never get better. Just like she’d had to, I needed to learn how to cope.

  She'd been good now for so long, I'd made the mistake of thinking she was cured. That her love for her grandson, which was boundless and almost suffocatingly heavy, had pulled her through the worst of it. And for the whole of his twenty months, she'd managed, and because she had, I was able to work to provide for the three of us. I'd been working since I was fourteen because her disability checks just couldn't sustain us and this job at Indigo was the easiest I'd had it in a long time. It almost felt like a vacation. Which, I realized, was really sad.

  I tucked my phone back into my purse. She'd pull through it. She always came out the other side. I just needed to give her time.

  With that thought, I shoved my purse back into my locker and headed back out onto the floor. Two more hours left in my shift and I could go Maisie's and get Malcolm. He'd be fussy about getting woken up, but it couldn't be helped.

  As I walked back into the front of the restaurant, my mind was whirling with all the things I still needed to take care of for the evening's service. I always had a mental checklist running, dashing from here and there to take care of it all. My servers were in awe of me, I could tell, but I couldn't help it. The stress of running a four-star restaurant was nothing compared to the stress of my real life.

  And speaking of stress, a major source of it was still sitting at his table, his blue eyes glinting over his wine glass. I'd been avoiding Jameson's table as much as I could, but when their meal came out, there was no getting around it any more. Finn insisted that a member of the management team visit each client's table at least once during their meal, if not twice.

  I straightened my spine and whispered a quick prayer that I could get away quickly without stammering or making a scene and headed over with my head held high.

  "And I hope you're enjoying your meal so far?" I asked standing at the edge of their table with my hands clasped behind my back to keep them from fidgeting. And also, to keep them away from Jameson's hand. The memory of his touch still lingered on the top of my palm.

  "We are enjoying it," Jameson said, leaning back. I kept my gaze focused at a spot just over the top of his head, but out of the corner of my eye I could see him grin and knew that my discomfort was not lost on him. "I don't want to press my luck here," he said.

  "So don't," I said quickly interjecting, then reddened. So much for not blushing when I came over here.

  He chuckled. "But that's what I do, Charlie," he said. He looked right at Parker. "Didn't you say you have to go to the restroom?" he said pointedly.

  Parker lurched like a puppet on his string. "Oh yes of course, definitely have had too much of that good wine," he said, chuckling needlessly to himself. "I'll be back."

  "Take your time," Jameson drawled. And then, after watching Parker closely until he had disappeared into the restroom, Jameson turned his eyes back to me. "Have a seat," he said.

  "I'm working," I reminded him testily.

  "It won't be long," he said calmly.

  And it was that calmness that drove me crazy. How could he be so calm? Didn't he understand that he was driving me crazy? Didn't he feel how uncomfortable this was?

  But why was uncomfortable? He didn't have the hang-ups I did. Or the stress. That much was clear. He'd probably never had a real problem in his entire life until I hit him with my car. And he'd even turned that into a flirtation. A flirtation that was sending unwanted tingles down my spine, reminding me just how long it had been since...

  "I was wondering when you got off," Jameson said, leaning forward with a look in his eye that was downright lascivious.

  "Excuse me?" I hissed, reddening further at the thought of getting off...

  "From work," he said. And his eyes twinkled with amusement like he could read my thoughts. "I was wondering what time you got off work."

  "Why?" I said warily, glancing over my shoulder. I'd been standing at this table for way too long. I need to go check on the rest of my servers, but my feet seemed rooted to the spot. "Why are you asking this?"

  "Because I have a confession to make," he said, leaning forward and lowering his voice.

  To my everlasting embarrassment, I felt myself leaning forward to catch what he was saying.

  "I'm about to close in on a very big business deal. But I need a little luck in my side, and so far, you been a pretty good lucky charm."

  "Who me?" I giggled. And then I hated myself for giggling.

  "Yes you," he said, and there was no teasing in his voice. He looked dead serious and that's what made me pause for a moment. "I'm just asking you to come with me, and be my good luck charm a little bit longer."

  "Me?"

  He shrugged and gave me a grin that hit me like a punch to the gut. "Yes you. What do you say? You look like you're working pretty hard. After you're done, want to come out and play?"

  I opened my mouth, ready to turn him down, when I looked up to see Finn watching from across the restaurant. He raised an impatient eyebrow. "I have to go work," I blurted and turned to run away as fast as I could. Utter terror gripped me even at the same time I was wondering what it was that had me terrified. I looked back at Jameson talking to Gina, who left and immediately came back with another bottle of the most expensive Cab Sauv on the menu. He took a sip and then caught me looking. Raising his glass in my direction, he then settled back in his seat. Waiting.

  Waiting for me to come out and play.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie

  I rushed around finishing up the rest of my shift and all the while Jameson stayed put.

  From my vantage point at the back of the restaurant, I could see that his dinner partner — the well-groomed Ken doll he'd called Parker — was starting to lose patience. They'd been sitting in the restaurant for nearly four hours now and Jameso
n showed no signs of moving.

  I should have done the moving for him. It was part of my job and all, and hell we needed the table.

  But maybe I liked having him here. Maybe I liked that his eyes followed me around the room like I was a prize he needed to keep his eye on. Maybe I liked that he thought I was his lucky charm. And yeah, maybe I also liked that he was clearly waiting for my answer and maybe I liked keeping him waiting even more.

  "What are you grinning about?" Gina asked slyly as she passed me on her way back to table four.

  I clapped my lips together. "I'm not grinning."

  "Now you're blushing!" she crowed. "Does it have anything to do with table four?" She lowered her voice, keeping a watchful eye out for Finn. "Look, whatever he asked you to do, do it. Because if you don't, I will."

  I clenched my fist. "He asked me to be his lucky charm," I said incredulously. "I mean, what the hell does that mean?"

  Gina's eyes went wide. "I have no idea, but girl you had better find out, because it sounds like something you sure as hell want to be."

  "How the hell do I find out?"

  She looked like she was going to self-combust out of sheer frustration. "Um, I don't know, maybe ask him?" she exploded. "If you don't I will."

  "I'll have you fired, Gina," I threatened weakly.

  "No you won't," she crowed, taking a step forward. "I'm going over there!”

  "Stop it! Okay, okay I'll ask him."

  As soon as I said the words, my whole body broke out into goosebumps. I took a step forward as Gina dashed off to bring out the plates to table four, but when she returned and saw that I had made no further progress, she pointed a threatening finger at me. "You have ten seconds."

  "You're fired," I grumbled, making her laugh. Defeated, I heaved myself over to Jameson's table, feeling like my legs were made of lead.

  I stood at the edge of their table and waited for the words to come but they didn't.

  Jameson raised an expectant eyebrow at Parker, who seemed to stiffen and recoil. "Yes, I just have to take this phone call," he said, looking down at his phone that was obviously not ringing. "It might be a few minutes."

  "Take your time," Jameson said calmly, and I tried not to go slack jawed at how quickly the other man leaped to do what he wanted. Jameson had power quite unlike the loud, swaggering machismo of the farm guys I'd grown up with. He didn't boast about it.

  He clearly didn't need to.

  "Hi again," he said, once Parker had disappeared. "You decided you wanted to play?"

  I swallowed and forced myself not to ask why me of all people? Instead I said. "What exactly are you asking me to do as your lucky charm?"

  He grinned. "Your presence is all I require. Lucky charms don't work if you don't have them with you."

  "You mean a date?" I asked, and then wanted to smack myself in the face.

  He chuckled a little. "It can be a date if you'd like."

  "No thank you," I interrupted quickly. "I don't date."

  "That's too bad," he said and stretched his arms out in front of him. His crisp button down shirt pasted itself against his skin showed every rippling muscle underneath. I tore my eyes away before they bugged out of my head. "So then it's not a date," he continued. "It's just two people going out to the casino...”

  "To the casino?" I asked eagerly, before catching myself.

  "You sound excited. "What, is my lucky charm a little bit of a gambler?" he teased.

  "No," I said. "But I haven't been up there to see it yet. I hear it is really beautiful."

  "That's good, because I'm looking to have a partial stake in it."

  I closed my mouth before it could fall open in awe. Just how fucking rich was this guy? And why the hell was he interested in townie trash like me?

  He fixed me with his gaze, his mocking blue eyes suddenly serious. "I will be in town for the next thirteen hours, Charlie."

  "That's it?" I asked.

  "I'm leaving tomorrow," he said with a flick of his hand. "So after tonight, you're under no obligation to ever even see me again."

  "Boy, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," I joked, feeling wild and off-balance.

  "You are special," he said with a grin. Were his eyes twinkling? Holy shit, I'd never met anyone whose eyes actually twinkled before. "You're my lucky charm. And I need my lucky charm to be sitting next to me tonight." He leaned forward. "I hear these guys are hardcore gamblers and I don't want to lose my shirt.”

  The thought of him shirtless made my mouth go dry for a moment. I swallowed thickly.

  There was no possible good thing that could come out of this. This wasn't me. Not anymore, anyway. Not since I became a mother. I hadn't been out in the evening for any reason — much less a date — for the past twenty-two months. Hell, probably it'd been even longer than that since I got sick of the dirty looks I got sitting at the bar and sipping my soda with my big belly on display.

  Just a night with no consequences. With a gorgeous guy who seemed hell bent on showing me a good time.

  Hell, maybe I should hit rich guys with my car more often.

  "Well," I hedged. "I guess I could call the sitter."

  "There you go," he said encouragingly.

  "I mean," I realized. "It's kind of weird I even have a sitter tonight. Usually my son is with my mom and I have to hurry home to take over..."

  His grin spread wider. "But..."

  "But tonight he's with a sitter and I didn't tell her a time I'd be back..."

  "See?" he said. "You're your own lucky charm too."

  I felt myself smiling back at him. Normally with guys this handsome, there was a coldness to their smiles, but Jameson's grin was pure joyful mischief.

  "Oh God, though, I'll have to pay Maisie an arm and a leg..."

  "I'll pay her," he jumped in. "Whatever she costs."

  I blinked. "Seriously?"

  "Worth it," he said. "To have my lucky charm by my side."

  My head was spinning. I looked at him, suddenly wary. "You know I have a kid, right?" I reminded him.

  He cocked his head to the side. "I kind of noticed when you hit me with your car. And even if I'd somehow missed that, I didn't think you'd hired a sitter just for the hell of it."

  I felt my cheeks heat up. "You're not weirded out by that?"

  A flicker of confusion rippled over his face. "That you have a kid? That depends. Is he a lucky charm too?"

  I lifted my chin. "He's my lucky charm."

  Jameson nodded. "I'd like to meet the little booger. You know, sometime when he's not bleeding on the side of the road"

  "Too bad you're leaving tomorrow," I deadpanned.

  "Yeah." He went oddly quiet for a moment. Then his smile brightened again. "So that means we make tonight count."

  For nearly three years I'd kept my head down, so I hadn't felt it. That familiar feeling flooding my nervous system and flashing through my veins like silvery little minnows.

  Possibility.

  Optimism was my downfall. Hoping for the best was my Achilles heel. It's what led me to cross my fingers instead of doing something when the condom broke. It's what made me blithely announce that I was keeping the baby, even when I had no resources to care for one. Because I was always on the lookout for the possibility, that one moment that would change my life for the better, forever.

  I hadn't felt it in years. I'd forgotten how addicting it was.

  "Yeah," I said slowly. "Let's make it count." He grinned and grabbed my hand and the shock that went through my body settled into my core where it swirled and mingling with the fizzing joy of possibility that popped like champagne bubbles under my skin. "Can you meet me outside in about twenty minutes?"

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlie

  The alleyway between the restaurant and the bakery next door was dark so I couldn't see Jameson behind me, but I felt the warmth radiating up off his skin, which raised perverse goosebumps along my arm. It made no sense how I could be flushed so hot, yet fr
eezing cold at the same time, and yet, here I was, trying like hell not to babble into the phone. "Hi!" I said brightly. "How's he doing?"

  "He ate three entire sweet potatoes," Maisie laughed. "I've never seen a kid eat like this before."

  I smiled warmly. "That's my boy," I said, then took a deep breath. "Hey, uh, listen," I said, turning and darting another look at Jameson's glinting eyes. "Something come up. Any way you can watch him another couple hours?"

  "Oh, sure no problem," Maisie said breezily. "He's asleep anyway. Out like a light."

  "Wow! Really? How awesome, that's great, he must like you because he never goes down easy at home," I babbled. The way Jameson was nodding his head along with my conversation, a little grin playing around his mouth, had me completely flummoxed.

  "What time will you be back?" Maisie asked.

  I widened my eyes. "Not late!" I squeaked. The corner of Jameson's mouth turned down, and I shrugged and spread my hands. "What?" I mouthed.

  He shook his head. But I missed what Maisie was saying. "What was that?" I said.

  "I said it is not a problem," she repeated. "See you soon."

  I sighed with relief as I hung up my phone.

  "See?" Jameson chided gently. "Good things happen, you just have to put it out there."

  I rolled my eyes. "Things don't usually work out like that," I reminded him.

  He smiled again. "Sure they do," he said. "You ready?"

  I looked down at my work uniform. "Are you kidding me?" I gasped. "There's no way I'm going to the casino dressed like this. People will be asking me for their drink order."

  Jameson laughed. The way that this skin around the corners of his eyes crinkled made me feel strangely comfortable. Like it was a flaw, but a good flaw, one that meant that he laughed a lot.

  He shrugged again. "Then I'll follow you home so you can change." He grinned. "In my dented car."