by Noelle Hart
“That's not necessary, Mom. I have to get back to work. I just stopped by for a quick chat.” He refused to fret over his mother's increasing alcohol intake. How she anesthetized herself wasn't his concern. Not now that he had his own life away from this mausoleum of a house. And what had gone on and might still be going on in it.
The brandy arrived on a tray in a pretty decanter from the central bar and was quietly placed on the table. Ligaya, a middle aged refugee who was sending her earnings home to her family, asked if she should serve. Olivia waved her off with a gracious smile, then poured a generous amount into her tea cup.
Olivia eyed her son as she sipped. “So you've been seeing her three months now. What do you know about her?”
Impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, polished designer shoes gleaming as he crossed his legs and fiddled with his tie, Drew chose his words carefully. “I know she's right for me. I know you'll like her.”
“You always were a talented evader, Drew. You would make a good lawyer. Now answer my question please.”
He shifted his weight, playing for time as he formulated an answer. His mother was only the first of two speed bumps, although he had no intention of letting either of his parents change his mind. “She enjoys her line of work...”
“Which is?”
“She runs the greenhouses for Valley Farms out on Old Valley Road. Currently shares an apartment with a roommate in Oak Bay not far from here. She's got a great sense of humor and is kindhearted. Loves animals and kids and wants a houseful of each. Lots of them. Animals, anyway.”
Olivia didn't miss the defiance in his tone. An only child, Drew hadn't been allowed pets, for viable reasons. His father had ruled their household with strict austerity when it came to hearth and home. Frankly, it had been a cold upbringing and each day she lingered on thoughts of what might have been, her mother's heart aching for him. He'd turned out well enough despite his father's rules.
“And you,” she asked, sipping her brandy, “what do you want?”
“I want that too. All of it. The noisier and messier the better.” When she laughed softly, “Okay, maybe not the mess. My point is, she's a lovely woman. She's twenty-eight and ready to settle down. So am I. When can I bring her to meet you and Dad?”
“Oh my. This is serious. You've never wanted to bring anyone around before.” Then, because she knew her husband Stanley –- never Stan! –- would demand to know, “What does her family do?”
“They're simple folks. Own a hardware store in the Village.”
“Ah.”
Drew watched her eyes glaze. “It's a big successful business if that's your concern.”
“Well, it's not important to me. You know that, Drew. But it will be to...”
“I don't give a damn!” Drew interrupted vehemently. “I don't care what he thinks. If he gets petty over this...” He rose and paced, the stress sudden and fierce. “...I'll marry her anyway.”
There it is, fretted Olivia, still intact. The anger, the resentment. She'd hoped the violent outbursts in his teens had merely been overactive hormones working themselves out, that now as an adult he'd reined them in.
Drew perched on the edge of his chair. “Look Mom, I wanted to run this past you first. I know it's still early in the game but I know she's right for me and I'd like to have your approval. Both of yours. After all, she'll be a fixture in my life and you'll be seeing a lot of her.”
“Have you asked her yet?”
“In so many words. Not officially. I kind of let the cat out of the bag the other night.”
“What was her reaction?”
“In her own words, she needs to mull it over. Unofficially of course.”
“I should hope so. That's a good sign, Drew. It means she's not impulsive but thinks things through. I just hope you're not being impulsive.”
Drew looked at his watch. “I've got to get back. Just landed a new account so there's work to do.”
“I'll speak to your father and see when it's convenient to bring her for dinner.”
Olivia saw him to the door and gave a small wave as he drove away in his spiffy little sports car, then made her way back to her chair and her brandy. Somehow she'd always imagined that such news would fill her with joy. Instead she felt numb. She knew her son. On the surface he gave an appearance of calm control. But that little slip just now, that slight diversion when he'd succumbed to a momentary lapse of temper; it had shown her what he might still be capable of.
The apple rarely falls far from the tree.
A shudder ran through her and she took a long pull from her cup.
*
Drew maneuvered through the heavy afternoon traffic. His mind should have been on the work ahead but it kept slipping back to the look on his mother's face when he'd made his announcement.
She'd been worried. And with good cause, because he was worried too. For the same reason she was no doubt. Was it genetic? A predisposed condition at birth? Whatever it was he knew he had to figure out how to curb it. Turn it off entirely. Should he see a psychiatrist? Damn it, he didn't want to be this way! He didn't want to feel what crept silently into him without warning whenever he so much as touched Kylie. Not again. His last relationship had died just as soon as it had started. Hell, all of his relationships had.
This time would be different. He knew Kylie was worried that he didn't find her attractive. He'd scrambled to make up that hog wash story about ensuring their compatibility and not making sex the focus of their relationship to stall her. When he'd seen her in that brothel red dress he'd nearly taken her then and there. And instantly felt the blinding need rise to the surface. It was a curse!
Kylie was a find. He'd felt drawn to her the minute they'd met. This was a woman he could share his life with. And in all fairness to her he had to set her mind at ease. His mind too. If he couldn't bed her without...
...he didn't want to go there right now.
At a stoplight he pulled out his cell and punched her number on speed dial. She answered on the second ring, her voice breathy.
“Hi Drew. In the middle of things here. What's up?”
“I'm thinking we should take that red dress for a spin after all. How about tonight? Up for it?”
A lengthy pause. “Are you sure?”
“I do want you Kylie. Let's test drive each other before we agree to a permanent merger.”
On the other end of the line, Kylie grinned ridiculously. “All this at three in the afternoon? Did you have a liquid lunch Drew?”
The light humor in her voice dispelled a split second knee-jerk reaction of annoyance. “Not a drop baby. I'm coming your way around seven tonight. Be ready. We'll go to my place.”
“I'll be waiting in red dress mode!”
The humidity in the greenhouses had Kylie soaked through with sweat, the grunt work of re-potting covering her with grime. One of the workers had called in sick – probably playing hooky and enjoying a dip at Thetis Lake – so she'd had to pull up the slack. Her day up until now had been a mix of misery and delight as she'd knuckled down in the sweltering heat to perform tasks she normally enjoyed. The summers were short-lived on Vancouver Island and soon the days would give over to typical Northwest rain. Cold drizzly rain. She swiped away a droplet of sweat and thrilled to the fact that Drew had changed his mind. She couldn't wait to tell Jolene.
More important, she couldn't wait for seven o'clock to roll around.
*
Jolene pushed back a copper curl from her forehead and looked her boss squarely in the eye. “But it's all the way out of town. The reason why I'm never late for work is because this place is so close to where I live. I don't have a car. How will I get home when I work the evening shift?”
Even to her ears it sounded like a whining excuse.
In his office above the diner, Will sat at the big, solid oak desk that had been his father's and gesticulated with a pen at Jolene. “There are these big long vehicles called buses. They pass right by the new location unt
il the wee hours of the morning. I know. I checked.”
Jolene huffed out hot air. “I'm a woman. A young, attractive one.” Her glance slid sideways to where Lyle sat sprawled in a corner armchair staring out the window. “At least to some people I am. Have you seen the characters who ride the buses late at night?”
Will knew that all this protesting wasn't about transportation. It was about who stayed at which location. They'd already informed the staff that Lyle would be staying here in his usual capacity as head chef and that Kim would be taking up the gauntlet at their new diner in Langford, a step up for him that came with a much needed raise.
That meant they had to find a new sous chef for their current diner, and soon. With luck they'd be opening in Langford just after Hallowe'en.
“You're my best waitress,” said Will. “I want you to lead the way for the newbies. I'll make it worth your while.”
“Won't there be newbies here? Someone has to train them too.”
Will tossed the pen onto the blotter and his hands in the air. “I'm offering you a leg up here. I don't get it. Don't you want to move up the salary scale?”
When Jolene simply stared into her lap, Lyle swiveled his large frame so he faced them. “I have an idea.”
Jolene jolted. This was probably the first time he'd said anything remotely meant for her ears outside of a food order. Her eyes came up to meet Lyle's. There was heat in their steady gaze and she felt herself blush. Oh God. Was there a worse humiliation?
“How about I train her in the kitchen as my assistant? Jolene, you've seen what Kim does. He's a trained sous chef, graduated from cooking school and everything. I'm going to miss him a lot. I like having someone I can trust next to me in the kitchen. Can you handle a grill Jolene?”
Jolene was in shock. This was the first time ever he'd said more than two words to her. Now suddenly he was saying a whole lot of them, including her name. Twice. She found her voice but even to her it sounded timid. “I grew up with four younger siblings. I can hold my own in the kitchen.”
Will was frowning. “Lyle. Maybe we should talk this over in private.”
Lyle wasn't having it. Their eyes clashed. “I want her here.”
The statement was delivered with such conviction that Will blinked. “I see.” Then, mumbling, “Said the blind man.” Lyle might be looking through a fog where Jolene was concerned but Will saw things crystal clear. Lyle had it bad. Will wasn't sure that the two of them working side-by-side would be wise, considering.
Jolene felt sweat trickle down her spine despite the air conditioning. I want her here. The warmth of those simple words spread throughout her system like syrup; sweet, slow and comforting. She couldn't bring herself to look at either of the two men and felt the tension level in the room rise by degrees.
“We need a fully trained sous chef,” said Will. “Someone who can handle the prep work. That means knowing how to use that monster mixer of yours, that chopping gizmo I've seen Kim use and more important, someone who can work in tandem with you when we're at full speed.”
“I'll train her. Kim and I will put her through the paces.”
Still frowning, Will studied Lyle and Jolene who were both wearing expectant expressions, their combined energies a united front. He felt their mutual will impose upon his own and knew a long debate would be a waste of everyone's time.
“When will this training take place? We can't afford to take her off the floor just yet.”
Lyle stood and wiped his hands on his ever present apron. “Tomorrow morning. Jolene, this comes with a raise in salary. But you'll have to put in some hours before your usual shift for the next few months until we get you up to snuff. So how about it? Want to work with me?”
Boy, do I! Jolene looked up at his towering figure and smiled broadly. “Working close to home and a raise? Of course I'll put in the time. Thank you, both of you, for the opportunity.”
As they left the office, Will held Lyle back. “I hope you know what you're doing, pal. Just 'cuz she's a good waitress doesn't mean she's good in the kitchen.”
“You heard her. She was raised with four younger siblings. That gives her experience. It isn't always about getting a piece of paper from a school that says you can cook. Sometimes the more practical experience pays off. She's a hard worker, never late, the customers love her. Kim and I can fill in any gaps.”
“Why the sudden interest, Lyle? Up until now you've been in neutral with her.”
Sudden? He'd built a carefully constructed wall for nearly half a year now, and frankly he couldn't hold it up much longer. Maybe having her work in his space would show her just how human he could be and take that gleam of hope in her eyes down a notch. Possibly put a damper on his own overactive imagination too. Lifting a shoulder, he feigned indifference but it was a thin veneer at best. “I want somebody I can trust, that's all. I think she's proven herself.”
“You could take her out on a date instead.”
“This is business.”
“My ass!”
“I intend to keep it that way. Consider this: a few days sweating over the grill while taking orders from me might have her jumping at the chance to work at the new location.”
“So that's your strategy? Make her want to put distance between the two of you? What if it backfires, Lyle? What then?”
“How can it? If it turns out she's a good sous chef then we'll be ahead of the game.”
“I meant, on a personal level.”
Lyle grimaced. “Then I'll move to the new location and Kim can come back here. Problem solved.”
The door to the office slammed in a rare show of temper as Lyle made his way back to his kitchen. When he got there, Jolene was waiting.
“I just wanted to say thank...”
“You can thank Kim. It was his idea. He thinks very highly of you.”
That was bull and they both knew it. Jolene moved closer, enjoying the play of nerves she detected. “Nonetheless it was you who brought it to Will's attention and I appreciate it. I won't let you down.”
He could smell her perfume and something else. Womanly scents. Pheromones or whatever the scientific term was, ones distinctly Jolene. Ones that tempted, lured, enticed.
What the hell had he done?
“Be here at 9:00 am sharp.” He eyed her copper curls and despite himself fingered a soft tress, feeling its silky texture. Absently, “You'll need to wear a hair net.”
His words were all business but Jolene caught a glimpse of what she called a healthy sexual undertone, made even more so by the fact that he didn't seem aware of it. At least she hoped she was interpreting that correctly. Leaps and bounds if she was. She allowed her heart to soar a little.
Kim sauntered in and broke it all up.
“See you tomorrow.” Jolene left, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.
*
Kylie did not wear the red dress.
Instead she chose a plain black knee length sheath with a high neckline in front and a teasing, barely there back, and paired it with summer strappy heels. Out came the candy apple porn lipstick; after all, wasn't this night just for him in the privacy of his apartment?
She called to say she would come to him in her own car. Granted her five year old SUV wasn't exactly an elegant ride for such attire, but who would see her and more important, who would care?
Things didn't go according to plan. As she neared the turn off onto the side road that led to Drew's harbor side apartment building, her right front tire blew out and she narrowly missed ramming into a light post.
Rattled, Kylie got out to assess the damage.
Out of the darkness three burly guys materialized and surrounded her in the pool of lamp light. Although sensing no threat, she realized she should have stayed in her vehicle and called for help instead. The night was eerily calm, with no one else in sight.
One of them kicked the flat tire. “Got a spare?”
Forgetting about her lipstick, Kylie chewed on her lower lip. “I'm
pretty sure it's flat too.” She really must invest in new tires. The street sign advised that she was in a no parking zone. “I need to move my truck. Will it damage the rim if I drive it to say, over there?” She pointed to an unoccupied spot in the street leading to Drew's building.
Another of the men was examining the tire. “Got a nail in it right here. Shouldn't be a problem moving it if you go really slow.”
“Thanks. I'll just leave it there.” She got back into the truck with three pairs of eyes burning into her bare back as she slid behind the wheel. Firmly closing the door she lowered the window. “Thanks again fellas. I'll take it from here.”
“Uh, Miss,” said one of the trio, “do you have a cell phone? Want us to call you a cab?”
Kylie looked into his lined face and saw genuine concern. He must have felt her nerves zinging so he added, “I have a daughter about your age. I'd like to think that if this happened to her she'd find herself in good Samaritan company. About that cab?”
“I have a phone, thanks. I'm very close to my destination so I won't be needing assistance.”
“How close?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“How close is your destination?”
“It's within walking distance. Again, thanks...”
“Then we'll walk you the rest of the way. Do you have a jacket? The night's got a chill.”
Kylie read between the lines. He didn't think it was wise for her to be out walking the streets in a bare-backed dress. And not because the night was chilly.
“I'm a retired policeman, Miss. My name is Brad Humphrey and these are my sons Steven and Jay. We were walking back to get our car, that big green monster over there. You'll be safer with us if we walk you the rest of the way.”
Looking closely at the three faces Kylie saw the age differences and how the two younger ones wore expressions of respect for the older one.
