A Slice of Heaven

by Sherryl Woods

“Is that any way to talk about the man you promised to love for all eternity?” He was amused, despite her attempt to be insulting.

  “That man’s dead and buried to me,” she claimed.

  Maybe it was just one more thing Ronnie was wearing blinders to avoid seeing clearly, but he didn’t think so. He winked at her. “We’ll see, darlin’. We’ll see.”

  Dana Sue couldn’t escape into the restaurant kitchen fast enough. Despite her very best attempts to keep Ronnie at arm’s length, to make him feel her disdain, he was getting to her. His genuine concern for Annie was part of it, but she’d always known he loved being a dad, that Annie was the joy of his life. It was his persistence that was beginning to undermine her defenses. Some traitorous brain cell was actually beginning to believe he’d changed, that he wanted to make amends for the past, that he wanted her back and wouldn’t stop until he got her.

  Of course, there were still fifty billion cells or so that weren’t buying it, but that one susceptible cell seemed as if it might start dividing and eventually catch up. She had to prevent that. She needed a couple of hours with Helen’s cynicism to accomplish it, but that clearly wasn’t in the cards for tonight. Erik’s innate protective streak would have to do.

  “Did I see that ex-husband of yours come in with you?” he inquired when Dana Sue walked into the kitchen.

  She nodded.

  “You brought him here? Voluntarily?”

  “To be accurate, he drove, but basically, yes,” she said, already feeling better now that Erik was holding her feet to the fire. He might not have been around at the time of her divorce, but he knew enough of the details to make sure she didn’t cut Ronnie any slack.

  Erik regarded her with typical male bemusement when confronted with a female’s contradictory actions. “Why? I thought you hated his guts.”

  Dana Sue sank onto a stool out of the way of the busboys, who were coming in with trays piled high with dirty dishes. She considered denial, but it hadn’t worked with Annie. It wouldn’t accomplish a thing now, either. She gave Erik a resigned look. “Apparently not so much.”

  He looked stunned, or maybe that was just disappointment she saw darkening his eyes. She could relate. She was pretty disappointed in her weakness, too.

  “You’re falling for him again?” Erik asked, as if he didn’t want to believe she’d do anything so foolish.

  “Maybe.” She held thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart. “Just a little bit.”

  “Dear God in heaven. What should I do? Sign you up for an exorcism?”

  Dana Sue laughed. “Now that’s an approach I’ve never considered. I wonder if it would work.” If she thought it would, she might give it a try. But how was a woman supposed to rid herself of the feelings she’d had for a man for most of her adult life? If having him cheat on her and humiliate her hadn’t done it, what would?

  “I vote for telling him to get lost, and meaning it,” Erik said flatly.

  “Not as long as Annie’s sick.”

  Erik’s expression changed at once. “No, of course you can’t do it right now. How’s she doing?”

  “She’s being stubborn and uncooperative.”

  “That sounds like Annie.” He grinned. “And her mother.”

  “Ha-ha,” Dana Sue responded humorlessly. “That’s why Ronnie and I are here. We’re trying to come up with a way to get through to her. And he wants to hear every single detail of how she got into this shape in the first place. He’s not going to be happy when I tell him I don’t have all the answers.”

  “Then you’re not here so you can get all cozy in a dark booth in the back?” Erik joked. “That’s a relief.”

  She frowned. “I may be wavering, but I haven’t jumped off the ledge yet.”

  “Then, since Helen and Maddie aren’t here to do it, let me help drag you back from the edge of a very slippery slope,” he offered. “The man cheated on you. Isn’t that pretty much the scoop on Ronnie Sullivan?”

  Dana Sue nodded. “For a very long time, it’s been the only part that mattered.”

  “So, why would you even consider taking him back? I just don’t get it. You’re better than that, Dana Sue. You deserve a helluva lot more from the man in your life.”

  “You don’t really know him,” she began.

  “I know enough,” he said tightly. “I know he hurt you and Annie.”

  “I can’t deny that,” Dana Sue admitted. “But I’m just starting to remember that there’s a lot more to him.”

  And that scared her almost as badly as what was going on with Annie.

  Ronnie was chatting with the waitress about the night’s specials, and awaiting Dana Sue’s return, when he spotted Mary Vaughn Lewis coming in the door. When he’d left town, she’d been married to the mayor’s son, the top real estate agent in the region. Knowing her driven personality, which was only one degree less driven than Helen’s, he imagined she still was.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the waitress, a perky teenager who’d introduced herself as Brenda. “I think I’ll wait till Dana Sue is free before I order. I see someone I need to speak to.”

  “Sure,” Brenda told him. “I’ll let Dana Sue know.”

  “Thanks.” Ronnie slid from the booth and headed to the table where Mary Vaughn was already seated, her cell phone plastered to her ear. The instant she recognized him, she said something to whomever was on the phone, then snapped it shut. She stood up and threw her arms around his neck. “Ronnie Sullivan, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” she said, giving him a smacking kiss on the lips. She lowered her voice. “You do know Dana Sue’s probably around here somewhere, don’t you? Are you ready to risk her coming after you with a butcher knife?”

  He laughed. “Thanks for the warning, but she’s well aware I’m here. That’s probably why she hasn’t come out of the kitchen in a while. That and the fact that she knows I’m going to grill her some more about Annie.”

  Mary Vaughn’s expression sobered. “That poor child. How’s she doing?”

  “Better,” Ronnie said, not wanting to get into that discussion. “Do you have a minute? There’s something I’d like to talk about with you.”

  “Have a seat,” she said at once. “I’m meeting someone, but he’s always late. I doubt tonight will be an exception.”

  Ronnie pulled out her chair, then took the one next to her. “You look great, by the way,” he told her. She had the trim build of an avid tennis player, a sport she’d taken up when she’d decided the country club would be the best place in town to meet rich potential clients.

  “So,” he asked, “are you still a big real estate mogul in town?”

  She laughed. “The biggest. Why?”

  “Are you by any chance handling the real estate that’s on the market on Main Street? I didn’t notice whose signs were in the windows.”

  “Most of it,” she said. “And the one or two listings that aren’t mine, I can get you into. What’s up?”

  “This needs to stay between you and me for now, okay?” he said.

  “You know me, I’m the soul of discretion,” she claimed.

  Ronnie laughed. “Must have been hard for you getting to that place,” he teased. “Used to be there wasn’t a thing going on at the high school that you didn’t know and share.”

  She winced at the reminder. “Not a trait that works in this business. I know things—” She cut herself off. “Of course, if I told you, that would pretty much prove your point, wouldn’t it? You can trust me, Ronnie. I swear it.”

  He nodded. “I’d like to take a look at the old hardware store property. When did it go on the market?”

  “Only a couple of months ago,” she told him. “It broke my heart to see one more business die. Rusty had a heart attack and, what with worrying about him and making sure he followed doctor’s orders, Dora Jean couldn’t handle the business. Not that there was much left of it, anyway. She just put a Closed sign in the window, called me and told me to sell it, lock, stock and barrel.” />
  “When could I see it?”

  She pulled out a day planner that was crammed with business cards and slips of paper. When she finally found her schedule, she skimmed a finger over the entries. “Eight in the morning tomorrow,” she said finally. “Otherwise, not till after six. The day’s jam-packed. I’m meeting with a developer at nine to talk about getting an exclusive on selling the homes in the new subdivision he’s starting. Six hundred houses, if you can believe it. Then there’s a Chamber of Commerce lunch at noon that will drag on till two. And then I’m showing properties to a couple relocating from Michigan.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve already shown them everything twice. I’m beginning to think they just like looking.”

  “Put me down for eight,” he said at once.

  If he liked what he heard and saw during his tour of the property, maybe he could get Mary Vaughn to consider letting him tag along to meet the developer. At the very least, he might be able to wrangle an introduction later, so he could pitch the kind of services he’d be offering to contractors once he had the doors opened. Once again it seemed as if fate had stepped in.

  Just then Mary Vaughn’s dinner companion, a well-dressed, older man Ronnie didn’t recognize, arrived. Ronnie stood up and shook his hand as they were introduced. Though he was wearing a suit and tie, he looked as if he spent a lot of time on a golf course.

  “Dave Carlson, Ronnie Sullivan, an old school friend,” Mary Vaughn said.

  “I won’t intrude on your evening,” Ronnie told him. “I was just scheduling an appointment with Mary Vaughn for tomorrow.”

  The man shrugged. “I’m used to it. Besides, she’s one of my top Realtors, so I never complain when she’s conducting business that could bring in more money.”

  “Ah, you’re her boss,” Ronnie concluded.

  Mary Vaughn frowned at the man. “And ever since my divorce the man I go home with at night,” she said, then added rather pointedly, “at least for now.”

  Suddenly Ronnie felt as if he’d stepped into a minefield. Were they married or not? It sounded as if there was tension around that issue.

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “See you in the morning. You two have a good evening.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Ronnie wove his way back to his booth in about two seconds flat, picked up the menu and hid behind it.

  A moment later, Dana Sue slid into the booth opposite him. “So why were you huddled with Mary Vaughn?” she asked, tilting the menu down to look into his eyes.

  “Business,” he said evasively.

  She regarded him uneasily. “Are you about to start looking at houses, Ronnie?”

  “If I were, would that bother you?”

  “You know it would,” she said.

  “Why? Because it would mean I’m staying, just the way I told you I was?” He gave her a knowing look. “Or because it would mean I wasn’t waiting around for you to invite me to come back home?”

  She scowled. “Are you looking at houses or not?”

  “Not,” he said, then pointedly glanced at the menu. “What do you recommend tonight, sugar? The fried catfish or the scallops?”

  She looked as if she wanted to recommend that he do something that was physically impossible, but she apparently thought better of it. “The catfish is one of our bestsellers,” she said, her voice tight.

  “Then that’s what I’ll have,” he said cheerfully. “With a side of information.”

  Her expression turned wary. “About Annie?”

  “No. As a matter of fact, what I really want to hear about is your social life,” he said, clearly startling her. “Anybody special in your life since I left?”

  “None of your business,” she said flatly.

  “Just trying to get a feel for the competition,” he told her, enjoying the quick rise of color in her cheeks.

  “You are so not in the race,” she claimed.

  “You so do not want to challenge me like that,” he retorted with amusement. “Not unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

  “What consequences?” she asked, a hint of alarm in her voice.

  Below the table, he touched his knee to hers. In the booth’s close quarters, there was no place for her to flee, not without causing a scene. His gaze locked on her mouth. Then, before she could snatch her hand away, he picked it up and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, then lifted it to his lips and skimmed a kiss across skin that had been nicked more than once by a paring knife. Though she did her best to feign indifference, he could feel her pulse scramble in her wrist, and saw her eyes darken with the first stirring of desire.

  Satisfied that he’d gotten the hoped-for reaction, he lowered her hand to the table and winked. “That, for starters.”

  Her hand shook as she picked up her glass of water. She took a long swallow, seemed to debate tossing the rest in his face, then murmured, “You’re a pig.”

  “You’ve called me worse,” he noted.

  “You’ve deserved worse.”

  “No doubt about it,” he agreed. “Now that we’ve established that, let’s go back to your social life. Who’s in your bed these days, Dana Sue?”

  “I am not discussing this with you,” she said heatedly. “Either we order right this second or I am out of here.”

  “Let’s order,” he said at once. “I can eat and ask you questions at the same time. Maybe food will improve your mood. It used to.”

  She glared at him, beckoned to the waitress and placed an order for the chocolate decadence cake and nothing else. “He’s having the catfish,” she said tersely when Brenda rushed right over, clearly eager to impress her boss. “And a side of rat poison, if Erik knows where it is.”

  The girl’s pen paused in midair and her eyes widened. “What?”

  Dana Sue gave her a weak smile. “Just kidding. The catfish, fries and vegetables will do.”

  “Okay,” Brenda said, and hurried away.

  Two seconds later, Erik came storming out of the kitchen and arrived at their table with an intimidating scowl on his face. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his gaze on Ronnie.

  “Your boss is in a snit,” he answered. “Not to worry. I’m used to her moods.”

  “If she’s ordering the chocolate decadence cake for herself, she’s not in a snit. She’s trying to kill herself.”

  “Erik!” she warned.

  She spoke in a tone that even Ronnie recognized as meaning she was way past the end of her patience. Erik didn’t seem fazed, however, which Ronnie thought was something in his favor.

  “Well, dammit, I am not contributing to your downfall by bringing you that cake,” Erik said. He whirled on Ronnie. “And if you gave a damn about her, you wouldn’t have let her order it.”

  Ronnie knew he was missing something here, something important. He faced Dana Sue. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Something that’s none of his business or yours,” she said, tossing her napkin on the table. “Men!” she muttered, as if it were a four-letter word. She rose and stalked off.

  Ronnie was relieved to see that she’d headed for the kitchen, rather than out the front door.

  “Maybe you should tell me what’s going on,” he told Erik.

  “Yeah, I should, but I need to get back in there and stop her from doing something stupid. Your catfish will be right out.”

  Ronnie stared after them and debated following. He wasn’t entirely sure if he’d just witnessed some weird sort of lovers’ tiff or something else entirely. Whatever it had been, it was clear that those two had something between them. Ronnie honestly didn’t think it was a relationship, not a sexual one, anyway, but they were clearly close enough that they confided in and protected one another.

  So what secret did Dana Sue have that she didn’t want to share with him? Until a couple of years ago, Ronnie had known everything there was to know about her. He knew how she couldn’t start her day without coffee. He knew she wore socks to bed when the weather turn
ed cool. He even knew exactly where every one of her erogenous zones were, including one that had never been on a chart in any sex manual he’d ever seen.

  And though she’d never said a word about it, he knew how desperately she missed her mom and how terrified she was that one day she, too, would develop diabetes.

  At that thought, a lightbulb went off in his head. Diabetes! No wonder Erik had freaked when she’d ordered the cake and nothing more. Since Ronnie had been gone, Dana Sue had apparently started having problems with her blood sugar, problems she didn’t want him to know anything about.

  He could call her on it, or he could pretend that her argument with Erik had simply gone over his head. For now, maybe it would be better to do the latter. Give her time to tell him herself. In the meantime, he could keep an eye on her, see if she was taking proper care of herself. Not that he knew what that looked like, but he could find out. The Internet was a godsend when it came to researching that kind of stuff. And the Serenity Library had computers he could use to do it. Old Mrs. Harrington, the most tight-fisted widow ever to walk the earth, had shocked everyone by donating them.

  At the memory of Dana Sue’s mother and the diabetes complications that had led to her death, Ronnie found his appetite had fled. When his meal came, it could’ve been sawdust. He ate it anyway. As proud as Dana Sue obviously was of the food at Sullivan’s, he didn’t want to even try explaining why he’d left so much as a bite on his plate.

  Then, plastering a smile on his face, he risked poking his head in the kitchen. At first glance, he didn’t see Dana Sue, but Erik gestured silently toward the stove.

  She had her back to him. She’d tied on an apron and was sautéing five different dishes at the same time, then serving them up onto plates that already had garnishes in place. She added a decorative swirl of sauce, then tapped a bell to call for a waiter.

  She lined up three more orders in clips hanging just above her head, and started the process again. Her movements were efficient and fast, her concentration intense.

  Ronnie slipped over to Erik. “Do you need her here?”

  He shook his head. “Karen was handling that till Dana Sue came in. She’s just taking a break.”