by Sophie Gunn
Of course, now she was the charity case of either one of the Enemy Club or a total stranger.
A total beautiful stranger. She was trying very hard not to notice how good Tay looked out there. There was something about a man with a toolbox…
Lizzie turned to Paige. “Stay inside.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Paige saluted. But then she followed Lizzie out the door so fast, it didn’t get a chance to slam. At least she stayed on the porch, riveted there by the death glare Lizzie threw back at her.
“Officer Wynne. Please tell that man to leave.”
“Hi, Liz.” Tommy tried to get her into one of his bear hugs, but she skirted the embrace. She wanted this to stay official. “Liz, this is Tay Giovanni.”
“We met. I told him to get lost.”
“That’s true, Officer.” Tay nodded in agreement, then kept on wiggling fence posts.
“Can I talk to you a moment, Lizzie? In private?” Tommy took her elbow and steered her clear of Tay. He whispered, “He’s very knowledgeable about fences.”
“Oh, no. You want him to stay. You’re supposed to be kicking him out.”
“But why, Lizzie? He really knows his way around a toolbox. And that fence is about to collapse. He says no one sent him. He says he doesn’t want money.”
Lizzie was growing exasperated. She wanted Tay to stay as badly as she wanted him to go. She wanted to make Paige happy as much as she wanted to teach her how to do the right thing and not accept men who show up out of the blue, granting wishes. She wanted what she also didn’t want, and the confusion of that made her head hurt. “If my friends didn’t send him, then don’t you think it’s a little creepy for a stranger to appear out of nowhere and start fixing things for nothing?”
“He corroborated your story about the wish. Said he thought, What the hell? He’s just a nice guy, Liz.”
Lizzie eyed Tommy suspiciously. “Why do you want him to stay, Tommy?”
Tommy sighed. “Lizzie, you know how Annie feels about this house. She kind of thinks it’s still hers. You can’t totally blame her. I mean, she grew up here. And she hates to watch it go to hell.”
Lizzie put her hands on her hips. “And she’s furious that Mom and Dad gave it to me. But they did because I had a kid I needed to support and no husband. She needs to get over it. It’s my house. I want him gone.” She was aware of the hardness in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t let this spin out of control.
“Look, all I’m saying is that the house being in bad shape puts her in a terrible mood whenever she comes by and she’s already pretty prone to terrible moods since the baby. So if you just let this guy fix it up—”
“So you don’t care if he’s an ax murderer, just so long as your wife is happy?” Lizzie gave Tommy’s shoulder a playful shove. She knew that Tommy was a good guy—the best. But she needed him to help her out on this one.
“I would care if I thought he was an ax murderer. Really, I swear I would. He’s an honest guy, Liz. I meet a lot of criminals.”
Lizzie raised one eyebrow. “In this town? Who? Old Mr. Tilsdale who forgets to put his quarter in the meter?”
“Okay, but still, I meet more criminals than the average guy.” He lowered his voice and pulled her farther away from Tay. “This guy isn’t a criminal. He’s for real. A nice guy. Let him do a good deed.”
“I’m not a charity case.” Was she going to have to climb onto the roof and start shouting this? She’d put up a neon sign on the porch: Please don’t fix things for the single mother. She can do it herself. She’s trying to set a good example.
“Mom, I’m going to miss my bus.” Paige was sitting on the porch railing, legs up, back against the post, watching her bus pull away, as unconcerned as a teenager could get, which was pretty darn unconcerned.
“Oh, heck.”
“I’ll take you to school, Paige,” Tommy called.
“With the lights and siren?” Paige asked. “Can I sit in the back and when I get out, you take off the handcuffs and I’ll go in, like it’s a perfectly normal Thursday morning?” She was hopping up and down with excitement, her little-girl charm showing through her layers of form-fitting shirts. Lizzie noted that the bottom one was black. When had Paige gotten a black camisole? Stay pink and sherbet-colored just a little longer.
“No lights, no siren, but you can sit in the back if it’ll make you feel better.” Mercifully, he ignored the rest of her plan. “Don’t worry, Liz. I’ll get your daughter to safety.” Tommy started for his cruiser, with Paige trotting happily behind as if she were all angels and rainbows.
Lizzie chased after them. “Let me get this straight. You’re leaving me alone with him?”
“You really want me to arrest him for doing a good deed?”
“Yes.” She looked over at Tay, who was hard at work. Was there anything more beautiful than a man working with his hands? He looked up and caught her looking so she quickly looked away. “No.”
Tay strolled over from where he had been measuring the fence. “You have to watch her. She says that she wants things she doesn’t want. It’s very confusing.”
“Why do you care what I say? You just ignore me, anyway, and do as you please,” Lizzie pointed out. “Arrest him!” she said.
“Look, I’ll drop off Paige and go to the station and I’ll run a background check on him.”
Tay said, “Sounds like a plan.”
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Tay,” Paige said. Then she called to the house, “Bye, Figgy!” Figgy was Paige’s snowboard.
“Figgy’s our lead pit bull,” Lizzie said.
Paige rolled her eyes.
“I have his ID. He won’t try anything,” Tommy said. “Right?”
“Right,” Tay agreed.
Paige pulled out her cell phone and snapped Tay’s picture. “And I have his picture!” She looked inordinately pleased with her amateur police work. Lizzie knew that picture would be all over school within hours, probably tagged with something like, Check out hot guy at my place!
“Look! Here comes Mrs. Roth to save the day.” Tommy waved to Judy Roth, who was coming down her front walk in her nightgown, robe, and slippers. No way that woman could stay in her house when there was a police car on her street. “You have my permission to take this guy out if he tries anything, Mrs. Roth!” Tommy yelled to her. “Use your Glock!”
Mrs. Roth waved back and smiled. “Okay, yes, dear! It’s a lovely day for a walk.”
“Great. Now I feel safe,” Lizzie said.
“Then I’m off to prevent greater crimes, like Paige being late for school,” Tommy said. He lowered his voice, so just Lizzie could hear. “You’ll remember how to treat a decent, kind man if you try. I’m sure of it. I have his info; he won’t try anything with the whole neighborhood watching. Meanwhile, think about being nice. Okay? If not for him, then for me at least. Or for Annie. Or for Paige. Let him stay.”
CHAPTER
10
Lizzie watched Paige and Tommy disappear over the hill, lights flashing. God, Tommy was a pushover.
Tay was watching her.
“Why did you come back when I asked you not to?” Lizzie asked Tay.
“Like you said, I do as I please. Can’t help it, just my way.”
Exasperated, Lizzie turned on her heel. Why bother talking to a man who doesn’t listen? She left Tay to deal with Mrs. Roth, who was almost at the curb. Tay rushed over to help her across the street and Lizzie wanted to throttle him. What was he, a Boy Scout? He could go and fix Mrs. Roth’s fence.
Except, naturally, her fence was pristine.
Lizzie went back inside. The stubborn man could fix her fence. If he killed her and Mrs. Roth both, that would show Tommy.
Lizzie locked the door behind her. Put on the safety chain. Made sure all the windows were locked. Shut all the curtains. Only then did she get into the shower. But the hot water didn’t do anything to relieve her agitation. He just wants to fix your fence.
The truth was, it bo
thered her that he hadn’t noticed her as a woman. She was more than her broken-down fence. Not that she wanted to become the lover of a stranger who had nothing better to do than hang around where he wasn’t wanted. But still, it hurt.
She stepped out of the shower and toweled off faster than usual, as if he might burst into her bathroom with his screwdriver, look at her naked body, and say, I’m going to ground your bathroom wiring, install double-insulated safety outlets, and there’s not a damn thing you or your two-bit cop can do to stop me.
I’ve missed my chance at love.
The thought surprised her. Somehow, fourteen years had passed, and she hadn’t noticed. She had become a mother, a house-owner, but no longer a woman.
She walked across her bedroom, which was dominated by her beautiful, brass antique bed. Her feet were cold on the hardwood floorboards, leaving misty footprints across the room that evaporated after her as if she were being followed.
But she wasn’t being followed. She was alone. That was what was causing the dull ache inside her. All this work, all this pride, all this struggle—alone, without a man to love her and for her to love back.
She looked at her naked body in the maple mirror, the pale morning sun slanting across her thirty-year-old thighs. Decent face, in proportion. “Cute” was the usual word used to describe her button nose, sprinkling of pale, barely-there freckles, and cheeks that tended to Raggedy Ann–red circles when she blushed. But cute didn’t make it past her chin, when her body turned womanly. She sucked in her stomach. Examined her unremarkable legs. Her skin was so white as to be almost blue in spots. Great breasts, there was that. She had always been satisfied with them. Her job made her arms strong, her legs maybe not shapely, but strong.
She put her brown hair up in a practical bun and pulled on her plain cotton underwear and bra and then her server’s dress. She had started at the diner at age seventeen, one year after Paige was born, in a size six, then worked her way up over the years to a ten. Now even that was getting snug.
She examined her butt in the mirror and frowned.
Dante Giovanni did not follow her home for her body. So what did he want?
She cleared a spot in the condensation and peered out the bathroom window. He was nailing a picket into place, his hammer echoing in the otherwise silent street. Mrs. Roth was letting herself back into her house, apparently satisfied with whatever Tay had told her. I’m just doing my good deed to help this poor, single mother…
It would be all over town by the time she got to work.
She watched him work his way down the fence, allowing herself a moment of appreciation for how good he looked. Broad shoulders, thin waist, strong legs, arms that could hold her just right.
Okay, moment over. Time to get back to reality.
He did seem to know what he was doing out there. But enough was enough. She had her daughter to think about. Letting strange men have their way with her fence wasn’t responsible.
I’m sick and tired of being responsible.
To her surprise, she kicked her trash basket, sending it flying across the room. She watched it land and roll, shocked at her impetuous move.
As she got down on her hands and knees to clean up the spilled candy wrappers and crumpled receipts that had spilled out of the basket, she thought about Tommy’s last words before he left: Think about being nice. Okay? If not for him, then for me at least. Or for Annie. Or for Paige. Let him stay.
She took a deep breath.
What if I let him stay for me?
She let the idea sit a few minutes, to see if it would settle into place. It almost felt right, but not quite. Something still nagged at her conscience.
What if I gave him something in return for fixing the place up? Then it would be a deal between equals.
But what could she give a man like Tay?
Hot naked sweaty sex.
Okay, despite the fact that he’d shown no interest in anything about her beyond her falling-down house, trading sex for services was just wrong. It was too icky to even think about a trade like that.
There had to be something that Tay wanted. Something else. It didn’t have to be tawdry, even if part of her wished it was.
Maybe he wanted love.
The thought scared her to death. She had to sit down, breathe. Remember, Lizzie, he didn’t even notice you. Not one little bit.
She pulled herself together. Think. Maybe he needed something in this town. He obviously wasn’t from around here. There was hardly anyone she didn’t know.
Anyway, she didn’t have to guess. They were grown-ups. She’d ask him what he wanted and he would tell her.
Then, if they made a deal, he could stay and fix her place.
She thought about going out there to confront him with her plan, but she hesitated.
Best to wait for Tommy to do his background check first.
No sense in taking risks with a stranger fallen from the sky.
Plus, she really should think about this some more. Because no matter how much she told herself that she just wanted a rational exchange between equals, she knew that deep down, she wouldn’t mind more.
She’d have to get another opinion.
Or three.
The next few days, Tay drove around Galton looking for a place to stay that would be better for the animals than the too-small hotel room they’d been holed up in. It was taking too long to find the money, and he was starting to think about the possibility that someone else had found it first. At least the town was tiny enough that maybe he could pick up some clues to who did find it. And the town really was small. He’d been here a week, and he was already getting the lay of the land. Despite his lifelong loyalty to New York City, the more he drove around during the day, or walked the streets at night waiting for sleep, the more he liked the place.
Galton University sat at the crest of the main hill, surrounded by a series of gorges crisscrossed with bridges, some as wide as two lanes, others so narrow only one person could cross at a time.
The closer to campus and the top of the hill, the more exclusive and fancy the houses. Lizzie’s house was nine blocks up the hill—exactly halfway. But its location seemed misleading, as if somehow the house had fallen up the hill, coming to land in its current spot, the worse for the struggle.
The town stretched out from the base of the hill, starting with the diner that nestled at the bottom of the steepest street, to a long flat plateau that spread to the edge of an impressive lake.
One endless day, he’d been driving around the lake when he’d spotted a For Rent sign. On an impulse, he’d driven down the long driveway to find a tiny cabin under huge pines. He called the number on the sign. It turned out to be a month-to-month rental belonging to an old, bearded hippie who accepted Dune and White with a shrug of his shoulders. All creatures are welcome here, he’d said. We don’t discriminate.
It was a nice place, a huge improvement over the hotel they’d been stuck in. The best part about it was that it was away from town, where he was always afraid he’d run into Candy. He didn’t like being in the town with her. She’d made clear that she wanted him gone, and he’d honor her wishes. It wasn’t fair for her to have to worry about running into him. As soon as he found the money, he’d leave. Then he’d figure out some better way to use the money to help her from afar. He had no idea how, but he had to concentrate on one step at a time.
So for now, the place worked. It was modest, built into a hillside, fully furnished in grad-student shabby. But Tay didn’t mind a bit, even if it was a hundred steps down from his loft in Queens. Here, he and his broken-down truck fit in perfectly, no neighbors spying from behind their drapes, wondering what he was doing up at all hours. Here, he could sit out on the deck till dawn, when he could finally fall into bed and sleep. No more walking the town at night, scaring the locals.
He had told the old hippie he’d be gone before the month was over. Probably in a few days.
But it wasn’t looking good for that scenari
o.
He had two problems. The first one was simple: He couldn’t find the money. The second was more complicated: He was out of places to look. Which meant he had hours and hours of his day to fill and every hour he didn’t do something, he thought about the accident, the hatred in Candy’s eyes, the crunch of metal on metal, the sad walk to the grave while the rain fell around them.
He certainly couldn’t go back to work on Lizzie’s house. His inner Boy Scout sure had steered him wrong with that.
She definitely didn’t want to see him again. Once her brother-in-law checked his record and learned about the accident, she would have the guy chase him off with a shotgun. Or maybe Mrs. Roth with her Glock. That was okay. He got that.
Well, it was a little okay. Because in truth, he had a third problem: He wanted to see Lizzie again. He had liked her run-down house, her bunny jammies, her insistence that she didn’t need any help even though she was a little more wild-eyed every time he saw her, as if something was gaining on her, and she was a deer frozen in headlights, unable to move no matter how fast it bore down on her.
He wondered what was bearing down on her.
Stop it, Tay. She doesn’t want your help.
He also liked that she didn’t care what her house looked like. She seemed like the kind of person who lived her life for herself, damn the neighbors, which he admired. She’d be friends with whom she pleased even if they were her former enemies, feed whatever birds showed up on that crazy bird-feeder-store of a porch, stroll out in her jammies to threaten a stranger with nonsense, even call the cops just so she didn’t have to owe him anything.
What a great life, to not owe anyone.
She seemed to know it, and clung to it with all her might.
He didn’t blame her.
He used to live a life like that in New York City. He’d loved working his buildings all week, then playing pickup baseball in the parks on the weekends, having a few beers or walking around the museums with friends. Or, the last year and a half, hanging out with Emily.
