Alex stared down at Walter who rolled his eyes up to stare back. “I know how to have fun, too. You’ll see.”
The dog yawned, groaned and closed his eyes again.
Alex went to her office and slumped behind her desk. What was it about Evan Whiting that irritated her so? Yes, he seemed to be all those things she had rattled off to Kellie. But there was something else that bothered her about him and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. And, now, he was her competition, her enemy in the bid for the precious space she needed. He wanted the property next door, probably for nothing more than a parking lot, and he was going to set up a restaurant that would be competition for Uncle Jack’s place. Then she remembered what Kellie said about his plan—French and Italian cuisine. A smile tugged at her lips. “Boy, is he ever in for a rude awakening. Honey, if it doesn’t have barbecue and beer or biscuits and gravy on the menu, it’ll never last in Cade’s Point.” He wouldn’t be in business long enough to need a parking lot.
She sat up and jiggled the mouse on her computer. There was a way to find out more about the man if he was all that important. When the browser opened, she typed in ‘Evan Whiting.’
Chapter Four
Evan tugged several tissues from the box he kept in the console and wiped his faced. “Dogs. I can’t stand dogs.”
When he pulled away from the curb, he slowed to look at the sign on the front of the corner building: Harley’s Haven. Probably a halfway house for the sociopathically challenged. I’d bet Alex lives there and they release her to go to work and walk the dog. She probably wears a homing device so they can track her to protect society.
He turned the corner and headed to the bank. He had an appointment in half an hour with the manager to set up new accounts, both business and personal. He was going to get himself established in this town and make a success of his life. Even if it killed him.
The bank manager introduced Evan to the president who gave him a referral for a contractor to work on the house. Mark Jennings, the bank president’s younger brother, came highly recommended. Of course, that recommendation came from his brother. But in a town this size, it was going to be a challenge to find two people who weren’t related in some way. He’d bet on that.
Mark was a likable guy who was already familiar with Primrose. He agreed to meet Evan later in the afternoon and do a walk-through, make some notes, and give an estimate on the work to be done. He’d also review Evan’s ideas for changing the interior of the restaurant.
Evan returned to Out Back to get lunch. The pulled pork barbecue sandwich was exceptionally moist, but not oozing and with a tangy flavor that made his mouth water for more. He glanced at the kitchen doors every time they swung open, but there was no sign of Alex. Probably just as well. He needed to enjoy his lunch in peace. After forcing down the last bite of the best pecan pie he’d ever tasted, Evan sat back in his chair. He was stuffed. He wanted to go upstairs and take a nap, but a glance at his watch told him he needed to get to the house.
Mark’s truck was already parked in the over-grown drive and he was walking around the exterior. Evan parked and walked up the path to the porch.
“This sure is a great house,” Mark said.
“I imagine it was, once. But it’s a bit faded, don’t you think? And is that one column leaning a bit?”
“That’ll be an easy fix,” Mark said. “This place is solid. With a fresh coat of paint, I’ll soon have her lookin’ like the grand lady she is. Let’s take a look inside.”
After a thorough examination of the interior, Evan was relieved when Mark told him the only repairs would be to tighten up the stair rail and replace a couple of the spindles. Otherwise, all the house needed inside was a good cleaning. He gave Evan a card for Maid-for-You. “This is my cousin, Tonya. Her crew will scour this place from top to bottom.”
“Thanks.”
“I know it may not look like it to you,” Mark said, “but this is one remarkable house. Here’s another card for a landscaper, unless you plan to clean up the grounds yourself.”
“Me? No, I’m not that adventurous. Is this another relative?”
Mark grinned. “Brother-in-law.”
“Is everyone in this town related?”
“Pretty much. So be careful what you say.” Mark opened the front door. “I’ll have a crew out here in the morning to shore up that porch column and take care of the stair railing. If we come across anything else, I’ll call you first. You have a spare key?”
“No, but I’ll get one made and drop it off for you.”
From his car, Evan called the maid service and scheduled them for the day after next, once Mark’s crew would be out of the way. He did the same with the landscaper. Then he stared up at the house that seemed to stare right back at him through heavy-lidded cloudy eyes, like an old woman dozing off in her easy chair. He imagined what this place might have looked like at one time. With a little luck, Primrose would look alive again and he could move in by the end of the week. There was something appealing, almost romantic, about the notion of living in an old Southern plantation home that held an undiscovered side to his family’s history.
After visiting the utility company office to arrange to have the power and water turned back on, Evan was ready for a shower and a nap before dinner. It had been a long and exhausting day.
*
Alex spent the day cleaning kennels and bathing several of the dogs. She rather looked like a wet stray and probably didn’t smell much better. The physical labor had been good, though. She needed to work off the steam that built up after her encounter with Evan Whiting. She thought it odd that, in all the years she knew Amy Whiting, the woman had never mentioned her grand-nephew. Alex knew that Amy was never married and that her younger brother lived up north and they had minimal contact because of some old family feud that had caught the two of them up in its midst. Her father had left the family homestead in Mississippi to Amy because she had remained at home to care for both her mother and father until they died.
Amy had been a good friend to Alex, much like a mother, or what Alex had imagined a mother to be. Amy had encouraged her in her dream to open the shelter and had been a staunch supporter. She had taken Walter in to foster when no one else would take him and the shelter had no room for him. The dog had become her constant companion and had saved her life the day she had a stroke. Walter had been locked inside the house with Amy and had burst through a window to get the attention of a neighbor. Walter still bore scars and spots where roughened skin lacked fur. Amy had called them his love scars. That was something Alex understood because she knew better than anyone that love left scars.
Alex had taken Walter to the nursing home every Sunday for a visit with Amy until the old woman died. The house had been locked up and left untended.
Other than sharing a last name, Alex could see no resemblance between Evan and his great-aunt. Where Amy was kind, generous, and quick with a smile, her nephew appeared much the opposite. He was abrupt, judgmental and scowling most of the time as if someone had peed in his grits. And he was presumptuous, having sailed into Cade’s Point as if he belonged there. He was without a doubt the most obnoxious man Alex had met in a long time. And that included her ex-fiancé who had screwed her over in more ways than one before leaving town with a nineteen-year-old Miss Mississippi wannabe.
Alex glanced at the clock. She needed a shower before starting her shift at the grill, but there was not enough time to go back to her place first. She had a change of clothes in the car.
After parking behind the grill, she walked around to the steps and climbed to the upper level living quarters. In the bathroom, she shed her sticky wet capris, tank top, and underwear and turned on the shower. She pulled two plush towels from the linen closet and set them on the sink board.
The warm spray brought welcome relief. She tilted her head back and massaged the apricot scented shampoo into her hair. After stepping out of the shower and wrapping in a towel, she realized she didn’t have
a hair dryer. Though she was fairly certain she had left one in a drawer in her old room for circumstances like this. Uncle Jack was downstairs and the rest of the place was empty. She could hustle down the hall wrapped in the towel and dry her hair before getting dressed. She balled up her dirty clothes and tucked them under her arm, then lifted the hangars of clean clothing from the hook on the bathroom door. She threw open the bedroom door, and hurried inside, letting her dirty clothes fall to the floor as she hung the clean things on the hook on the back of the bedroom door. Then she shook her wet hair loose from the towel she had wrapped around it.
That’s when she noticed the man on the bed, leaning up on his elbows and staring at her, an unabashed grin on his face.
Alex gasped and clutched the towel that barely wrapped around her naked body. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“I should ask you that question. I paid the rent for this room. I didn’t realize it came with—amenities.”
“Uncle Jack didn’t mention renting the room out.”
“Maybe he didn’t feel he needed your permission.” He sat up, still ogling her. “So, what can I do for you?”
Heat flooded Alex’s face. She tried to stoop to pick up her clothes, but found it impossible to do so without giving Evan Whiting a free peep show. “I didn’t know anyone was here. I need to get my hairdryer. I think I left it in the chest of drawers.”
Evan nodded. “It’s in the top drawer—right beside my boxers.”
She reached to open the drawer, but hesitated.
“Don’t worry. They won’t bite.”
After withdrawing the dryer, she backed toward the exit. Taking the hangars off the hook, she opened the door and kicked the ball of laundry out into the hall. “Sorry for the intrusion.”
He gave her a slow, easy grin. His velvety brown eyes darkened. “No problem. I honestly thought I was dreaming. But you didn’t drop the towel.”
She stared at him, anger now heating her chest. The man was insufferable. She slammed the door, then carefully bent to pick up her things. She dressed hastily in the bathroom, blew her hair dry and hurried downstairs for the dinner shift.
Uncle Jack was at the bar filling glasses from the beer taps. “Why didn’t you tell me you rented out my room?”
“Your room? You haven’t lived in that room for four years.”
“Yes, well, I just walked in on Evan Whiting.”
“Oh. I guess I shoulda told him to lock his door. Is he okay?”
“Is he okay? I’m sure he’s fine. I, on the other hand…. Well, I wasn’t exactly dressed for company.”
“I don’t think I want to hear more.” Jack set the glasses on a tray. “Would you deliver these to table five?”
She took the tray. “I wasn’t naked. Exactly.”
“That’s comforting.” He headed through the swinging doors and into the kitchen.
When they had a break, Alex leaned against the bar. “Uncle Jack, did Evan tell you why he’s here in Cade’s Point?”
“Yep. Gonna open a restaurant.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Nope.”
“Well, why not?”
He shrugged. “The last restaurant that opened here, closed up within a year. And we’re still standing. I hear he’s opening his place in the same spot.” He grinned. “Hey, he’ll be your neighbor over at the shelter.”
“Yippee.”
He narrowed his gaze. “What is it about the man that you don’t like? Does this have anything to do with Jeff?”
“Jeff is history.”
“Yes, and a part of Yankee history. Don’t lump every man north of the Mason-Dixon Line in with that fool. Evan Whiting has Southern roots, too, in a sense. Besides, none of us has had a chance to get to know him yet.”
“I know enough.” She smiled. “More than he thinks I know.”
“Uh-oh. Why do I think that spells trouble?” He delivered two beers to a couple at the end of the bar, then returned. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Evan Whiting was a well-respected chef in New York not so long ago. He opened a French restaurant that made it to the top ten list of places to eat in New York City.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“That’s not the whole story. He poisoned twenty-six people with bad crab meat. It got his restaurant shut down and he became the defendant in a slew of lawsuits. Don’t you think the Health Department needs to know this before they issue the man a permit to serve food here?”
“Alex, don’t go startin’ trouble. Those things can happen in food service. Remember when Tommy Wilcox ended up in the hospital after our Friday night fish fry?”
“That was different. He had an allergic reaction to shrimp. It wasn’t our fault.”
Jack leaned across the bar, facing her. “Don’t make trouble for Mr. Whiting.” He stepped back and picked up a rag to wipe down the bar. “And don’t eat seafood at his restaurant.” He grinned and winked. “You got customers on number three.”
Alex headed for the table to get orders. Evan came in and took the same two-top he’d inhabited at each visit. She tried to avoid him, but each time she looked his way, he grinned at her and waved. Then his grin faded as he scowled and waved again. It finally dawned on her that he wanted to order dinner. Uncle Jack was nowhere to be found. She had no choice.
Standing at Evan’s table, she stared at her order pad and announced the specials.
“It all sounds great, but I think I’ll have the chicken wraps with a side salad. I like things all wrapped up.”
She couldn’t stop the heat that spread into her cheeks and was sure she was blushing furiously.
“I think I’d like a cup of the gumbo, too. And I’ll have iced tea. Unsweet, please.”
She nodded and turned to place his order.
“Oh, Alex?”
Stopping, she turned around. “You need something else?”
“You left something in my room.”
A fist of panic clutched her throat and her mouth went dry as she observed her bright red bikini panties balled up in Evan’s left hand. She strode to the table and reached for them, hissing, “Give me those.”
He chuckled and released the scant wad of fabric. “You surprise me. I wouldn’t have taken you for the hot red bikini type.”
Alex shoved the swatch of material into her pocket, her ears now flaming. She thought she might pass out or disappear in a puff of smoke. She hustled among the tables and through the kitchen, dropping off Evan’s order before stepping out the back door. Drawing in a deep breath of the cool evening air, she tried to slow her pulse. The sight of her undies in his fist, along with the glint in his warm brown eyes, had undone something in her. It wasn’t only anger or embarrassment that had her heart racing and her face on fire. Heaven help her. She was attracted to the man.
“Aw, crap.” She pulled the panties from her pocket and tossed them into the Dumpster before going back inside.
Chapter Five
Friday night in Cade’s Point was pretty much the same as Tuesday night. Dead. Evan paced the small room, boredom sucking the breath from him. He wasn’t a gambling man, but he needed lights, noise and other people. He grabbed his keys and hurried down the steps. As he headed north on the highway, the lights of the casinos glowed in the summer night sky.
Evan followed the arrow directing him to the Horseshoe. He turned his keys over to the valet, stepped inside the brightly lit hotel lobby and followed the sounds into the casino. He was assaulted by dings, bells, loud music, and wall to wall to bodies. Obviously, these folks hadn’t gotten the memo about the downturn in the economy. He slipped a twenty into a one dollar slot machine and watched the credits disappear, spin by spin. While he sat there, a waitress came by and took drink orders. Evan ordered a Jack and Coke and slipped another twenty into the machine while he waited for the drink. This time he hit and cashed out for a hundred.
He tipped the waitress five dollars and cashed in his ticket.
Though the food at Out Back was surprisingly good, Evan was in the mood for a thick, juicy steak. He stopped one of the slot attendants. “Excuse me. Is there a steakhouse in the casino?”
“Yes, sir. Binions is in the back, to your left.”
“Thanks.” Evan took his time sipping his drink and wandering amid slot machines until he saw the restaurant entrance. He approached the hostess. “I don’t have a reservation, but I was wondering if you might have a table available.”
“Yes, sir. Just one?” the hostess asked.
Evan hated that question. It was the ‘just’ that bothered him, as if dining alone were indicative he had some social disease or was in some way deficient. “One, please.”
The hostess studied a seating chart and invited Evan to follow her to a small table right smack in the center of the restaurant.
“Do you have anything a little more out of the way?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, sir. This is the only table.”
Evan sat, feeling self-conscious as couples at surrounding tables glanced his way. He wondered how long it would take for him to get used to being single again. Perhaps this hadn’t been his best idea but, before he could change his mind, a waiter appeared with a glass of water and rattled off the specialty wines and the dinner specials.
He was soon glad he stayed. The Ahi Tuna appetizer was exquisite. The organic spinach salad was delicious. The sixteen ounce New York strip steak in béarnaise sauce was perfectly prepared with a hot pink center. Evan closed his eyes and savored the flavor. When he opened them again, he noticed the couple seated at an intimate table near the far wall. There was something so familiar…. Alex and some geeky looking guy.
He’d gotten a good glimpse of Alex earlier in the week when she burst into his room wearing only a bath towel—those long legs and the way her breasts tested the knot in the towel. He’d had a hard time getting to sleep after that. For as much as he found her personality to be abrasive, he also found her body to be alluring.
She threw her head back and laughed at something the man with her said, exposing that elegant neck and the hollow at its base that invited a man’s lips. Evan took a gulp of water. She wore a sleeveless dress of deep jade green that he was certain, close up, would magnify and brighten her eyes. As if feeling his stare, she turned and looked directly at him. And her smile faded.
Rescued Page 4
