“I might have tried that, if you hadn’t given me a job.” She looked down into her cloudy coffee. She hadn’t meant to bring up her earlier precarious position.
Silence radiated from Tyler like heat from a fire. Apparently he wanted more. She just didn’t have it to give to him. “I can’t fill out those papers. I can’t give you a social security number, or a driver’s license. I just can’t.” She hunched defensively over her coffee, leaning on the bar. Her hazy reflection stared back at her from the high gloss of the wood. She avoided her own eyes.
“And I can’t pay you under the table.” Tyler’s pronouncement dropped on her with the heavy weight of finality. Grace leaned back in her chair, boneless, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. The game was up. She wondered if Sarah would want her to pack up her things today, or if she could stay one more night.
She took some comfort from the fact that at least Tyler didn’t sound terribly mad at her. More regretful than anything else. Perhaps she could come back here sometime and visit.
“Grace, look at me.” She owed him that much, for trying to help her. And she saw that he was truly not mad at her, saw instead a well of deep compassion tinged with sadness. “You know how important this restaurant is to me.” His gaze was steady and warm and she knew he was thinking of the night before and what he’d shared about why this meant so much to him. “Important enough that I won’t do anything that might hurt it, like breaking the law.”
“I know.” She felt suddenly ashamed of herself. “I shouldn’t have even thought that you might, or put you in that position. You’ve made this a wonderful space, and I know you’ll be successful here.”
“Thank you. Coming from you, I consider that an enormous compliment.” The fact that he was sincere, that he would say such a lovely thing to a woman he knew only as a recently hired waitress, made her regret even more her unfair judgments of him earlier.
Perhaps if I had more courage, I could simply tell him, right now, who I am and what I’m hiding from. But I can’t do that. I couldn’t bear the possibility that he might look at me and think that I was pathetic, some whiny little rich girl who didn’t know what problems really were.
Tyler refilled her coffee, unnecessarily, since she’d been too nervous to do more than warm her suddenly cold hands on the mug. The uncharacteristic absent-mindedness had her looking sharply at him. His brows were drawn in and down, deepening the lines between them, and his unfocused eyes stared at nothing. He returned the coffeepot to the hot plate and leaned back against a cooler. After a minute he looked hard at her, searching for something in her face, and then glanced at Spencer, still working at the far end. His glance bounced back and forth between the two of them for a minute more before he stood, having clearly come to a decision about something.
First, to Grace, “I won’t pay you under the table.”
“I understand—”
He cut her off and then called down the bar, “Hey, Spence, I have a question for you. If I had an employee and I realized after a couple of months that I’d switched two digits of her social security number, am I gonna bring down the wrath of the IRS if I correct the error on the last day of the year?”
Grace held her breath and thought frantically. She could see Spencer push his glasses up and cock his head in their direction. By the time she puzzled it out in her own mind, he was already speaking.
“I’m not a tax attorney, so don’t bet the house on this, Tyler. But I don’t think so.” Spencer shrugged. “It’s not going to get you in good with your accountant, but I don’t think the IRS will bother to pay attention.”
“What do you say, Gracie?” Tyler challenged her, leaning on the bar with his elbows, chin propped on interlaced fingers, crowding her. “It’s almost October now. Flip-flop a couple digits in your social security number, don’t even tell me which ones, and you’ll have until the end of the year to straighten out whatever problems you have. Of course, I’ll help you out any way I can.”
Stunned, she simply sat there, unable to think straight, sure there must be a catch somewhere.
“But on December thirty-first, New Year’s Eve, you sign on one hundred percent, and there’ll be no more hiding for you.
“Do we have a deal?”
Five
“Why are you doing this?”
She was stalling for time and Tyler understood that. That he answered her question anyway was just another sign of his generosity.
The decision to offer this way out seemed to have cheered him up somehow. He winked at her as he poured several ounces of Tullamore Dew, a fine Irish whiskey, in a snifter. “You could say it’s because I like taking risks.” He slid the snifter thirty feet down the bar rail without a second glance. Spencer lifted the glass in the air in a casual toast that spoke of familiarity with this method of drink delivery. “That’s on the house, Spence, for your legal wisdom.” A smile broke slowly over his face and she felt it like a kiss on the back of her neck that made her knees weak. “Or you could say that I’m still hoping to get into your pants, and that seems easier to accomplish if you’re still around.”
The coffee she’d managed to sip sputtered out of her mouth and onto the bar. Tyler laughed delightedly. She mopped it up with a napkin.
“Ah, Grace, you’re so easy to tease. It’s hard for a man to resist.” He grabbed one of her hands in his and stroked the back of her hand with a calloused thumb. “I was just kidding.”
“Yeah, right.” She shot him a dark look and ignored the chills walking steadily up her arm with each stroke of his thumb.
Another one of those lightening mood changes that kept her feeling so off balance swept over him. He turned her hand over so that her palm faced up and began intently tracing a shape on the sensitive skin there. Grace had only just figured out that he was drawing a heart, which made her breath catch, when he stopped and bent over her hand to press a single soft kiss to the center of her palm, on top of his heart.
Maybe she just wouldn’t bother to breathe ever again.
His voice was low and rough when he spoke. “Or you could say that from the moment you walked in this bar, I wanted you. And that with every day that passes, every time you tug on your hair in nervousness, or give an order to my family in my restaurant, I think I care about you a little bit more.”
The need for air, and space, became overwhelming. Grace found herself standing next to her bar stool, tugging to free her hand from the hold Tyler kept on it. This wasn’t happening to her.
Tyler was not falling for her. That was simply not possible and she refused to accept it.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she managed to gasp still pulling on her hand. “Let me go.”
He released her the moment she asked, suddenly enough to make her stumble and put a hand on the bar to steady herself. The disappointment in his eyes smacked her like an accusation. Her chest was heaving with deep, oxygen-desperate breaths, as if she’d just sprinted around the block.
“Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for,” he murmured, a twisted smile on his face. “I should have stuck with just getting in your pants.”
Her laugh was harsh and cracked on the high note. “Listen, Tyler, you can’t—we can’t—”
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” he interrupted. “We can pretend I never said that. Or, even better, that I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Yup, just wrong. Thought I was falling for you, got to know you better and figured out, nah, you and I are just meant to be friends, after all.” She stared at him blankly. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about that kind of thing.”
She didn’t know why she should feel almost offended. He was giving her exactly what she wanted. But what kind of man was he, that he could toss out those devastating words and then two seconds later write them off so casually?
Why did her heart hurt at the thought of Tyler regarding her as just a friend?
“I can’t think,” she said, sitting back down on the bar stool.
“First things first, Grace,” he said and crossed his arms over his chest, stretching his white button-down tight across his shoulders. “Focus on the job. Do you want to keep it or not?”
Two men in dirty jeans and scoffed leather boots walked in the door and came to the bar, setting hard hats down on the wood counter. Tyler strolled to take their order, and she heard him hassle them in a friendly way about quitting early for the day. He pulled them two pints of lager and walked back to her.
“Yes.” She wanted the job. Her options were nonexistent at this point, something they both knew.
“And on December thirty-first?”
She’d never planned on hiding out that long anyway.
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” And then you’ll hate me and I won’t have to worry about whether or not you might have been in love with me. What a bargain.
“It’s a deal.” He stuck his hand over the bar and, for the second time since they’d met, they shook on an agreement. Only somehow this time it felt as though she was cementing a deal where she lost something, not gained.
“And, um, that other matter?” She felt the heat rising from her cheeks and knew she was blushing furiously.
Tyler raised his eyebrows at her. “I’m glad you think so much of my determination. But you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He began wiping the bar down with a clean rag. “I don’t like getting shot down any more than another man would. I won’t try again.”
A half hour later Sarah showed up for her shift. Grace knew immediately that something was wrong. Sarah, who’d been so wonderfully supportive and friendly to her from the moment they’d met, rushed straight back to the kitchen with only a wave at Grace’s called-out greeting.
When Grace followed her to the back, she found Sarah tying on her apron. At the noise of the swinging doors, the other woman pressed her hands swiftly to her eyes and wiped them dry. A quick question had her spilling out the story.
“It’s silly, I know. Vets have to put dogs to sleep all the time,” she said. She wrapped her arms around herself and huddled in on herself. “And Piper was old and in pain. He couldn’t walk, couldn’t eat. But it’s just so sad.”
Grace found herself weeping, surprisingly, at the thought of an old dog, tired and ready to die. “Of course it is, Sarah.”
“Todd says I shouldn’t let it bother me.” Her sudden, guilty glance told Grace that Todd was the vet Sarah worked for, the one she was dating. “He says it doesn’t help to get emotional over death. That it’s a natural part of life, and my feeling sad about it doesn’t help the people who are there with their pet.”
“Death is a natural part of life, but so is feeling grief when someone or something dies,” Grace said. The wave of fierce anger at this Todd that washed over her caught her off guard. She knew most of it came from memories of hearing similar words from her family upon her grandmother’s death, and what they’d called her “excessive grief.” “And if I had to put a pet to sleep, I’d want a vet who could be sad with me. Not some unfeeling, uncaring block of ice who’s hardly human.” She surprised herself further by reaching out and enfolding Sarah in a hug. Sarah squeezed her back and sniffled one last time before letting go.
“Todd’s not like that, really. He’s just better at keeping his emotions separate from his work than I am.” Sarah wiped her eyes as she pulled a scrunchie out of her apron pocket and twisted her long, straight hair up on top of her head. “He’s an excellent vet.”
Grace made a noise of noncommittal agreement and handed Sarah a paper napkin. She would keep her mouth shut. It wasn’t her place to give sisterly advice.
“Did you find everything all right at the apartment this morning? I left you a note.”
“I got it.” The morning seemed a lifetime ago. She smiled at the thought. “Everything was perfect. I haven’t had that much hot water in weeks. I’m so grateful, Sarah, that you’re letting me stay with you.”
“Frankly, I don’t like living by myself, too many mysterious noises in the night and all that, so you’re doing me a favor, actually. Although don’t tell my brother that or he’ll never let me live alone again.”
The mention of Tyler was like a splash in the face of dirty water from the kitchen sink.
“Tyler.”
She hadn’t meant to say his name out loud, certainly not with such an obvious amount of frustration in her voice.
“What did he do now?” Sarah asked as she started setting up for the night, refilling the dishwasher soap and stacking up the trays that held the dishes to the right of the sink. “When he stopped by the apartment this morning, I told him not to hassle you. That it sounded to me like you’d had plenty of trouble from men lately and didn’t need him coming on to you like some ham-handed farmboy.” She glanced over her shoulder at Grace. “I hope that was okay.”
It was probably harmless, but Grace was curious as to what Tyler had been told. “What exactly did you say to him?”
Sarah bit her lip and wiped her hands dry on her apron. “Not very much. Just that I thought you’d been involved with some guy who didn’t treat you very well. I didn’t mean to break a confidence, I just thought he might be better off knowing.”
Grace guessed that it was Sarah’s own problems with her love life that had caused her to focus on that part of the limited explanation she’d been given at the hotel, which was fine. And Sarah’s edited version also explained why Tyler was being so nice to her, letting her keep working. He thought she was hiding from nothing more serious than a bad relationship.
Another idea gave her pause. A bad relationship? Or an abusive one?
If Tyler thought a woman was hiding from an abusive boyfriend, his protective instincts might go into overdrive. And, she thought further, with pain, if he was attracted at all to a woman like that, learning that she was trying to escape from a situation like that might be enough to make him want to take care of her. And that might be enough to make him think he was falling for her.
“Grace?” Sarah was still looking at her as if worried she’d made a mistake.
“Don’t worry. I was just curious,” Grace reassured her. It’s just that I’m losing my mind over here. I can’t decide if I’m happy or sad, angry or pleased, about any damn thing and your brother seems to be tied up in the middle of it all somehow. Sarah still looked concerned, so she fibbed, “I assumed you’d tell him sooner or later.”
“What did he do, anyway? You sounded… Hmm…” Sarah chose her word carefully. “Frustrated.”
“Oh, he just told me he was falling for me.” Annoyed again, Grace grabbed a box of red-and-green cocktail straws and began ruthlessly shoving them into side compartments of a napkin holder. She waited for the shriek of disbelief.
“Wow.” Sarah’s voice came as a low, awed mutter from somewhere behind her. “Big brother’s in love.” The kitchen doors squeaked on their hinges and then thwapped back and forth against each other. “Hey, Mom, Tyler’s in love with Grace.”
“He is, is he?”
“Of course he’s not,” Grace snapped, stomping her foot as she turned around. This was worse than getting caught kissing the man in front of his mother. “He simply said he thought he might be. I told him he was crazy. Then we straightened out some other business and he decided that he wasn’t after all.”
“Right,” Sarah said decisively. “He’s trying not to scare you off. Good plan.”
“Good plan? He’s insane,” Grace retorted, then looked apologetically at Tyler’s mother.
Susannah had carried an enormous bowl of tomatoes from the restaurant-size refrigerator and now began to chop them on the island.
“My husband Michael told me that he loved me the night we met.”
Both younger women listened, Sarah smiling as she heard again what was obviously a treasured family story.
“He was a saxophone player in a blues band playing at a club my girlfriends and I had snuck into. I was seventeen. At the band’s first break, Michael
came over to our table and told me I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.” Susannah shook her head. “I looked pretty good that night.”
“You’re still the most beautiful woman I know, Mom.”
“Hush. Flattery will not get you a slice of the key lime pie I’m making tonight.” Susannah wrinkled her nose at her daughter. “Let’s just say he was pretty charming and handsome as sin besides. He sat next to me and we started talking. When the band went back onstage after their break, he stayed with me and we just kept talking. We sat there until the bar closed, and my friends were begging me to leave, so he walked me to the door of the club and kissed me for the first time. Then he told me he was in love with me.”
“What did you say?” Grace asked after five seconds during which she made a vain effort not to be charmed by the story.
“Say? Nothing.” Susannah laughed. “I smacked him in the face. I thought he was making fun of me. I didn’t believe him until he kept showing up at my house every night for weeks.”
“That’s my mom. Always the romantic.” Maxie strolled through the kitchen, yanking a baseball hat off her spiky mop of cropped curls, apparently having caught the tail end of the story.
“Be quiet.” Susannah threw a ripe tomato at her youngest’s head, who caught it one-handed and bit into it like it was an apple. “Someday you’ll fall in love and find out that it’s not all light and music. Love can be frightening, if you’re not ready for it.”
“No thanks. I’ll pass.” Maxie took another bite. “Besides, who’s in love? Not Sarah and Dr. Defective, please.”
“Max!” Sarah shouted and threw a dirty wet dishtowel at her sister’s head while Grace choked back laughter unsuccessfully. Max seemed to inspire a lot of thrown objects. Sarah gave her a dirty look for laughing, and struck back below the belt. “Tyler’s in love with Grace.”
At Your Service (Silhouette Desire) Page 8
