“So, did ya forget your umbrella, handsome?” asked Cookie, a large black woman who was the epitome of making her customers feel welcome and at home in her presence. A crisp white apron covered a red gingham dress, and she wore a white matching turban over her coarse salt-and-pepper hair.
“No, ma’am, don’t have one. Left it somewhere up north.” He slid his jacket off and took a sip of the coffee Cookie put in front of him.
“Um-hmm, just another macho ladies’-man type, no need for no kinda protection, no siree,” Cookie retorted, with obvious affection.
“Yep, that’s me, all right, Miss Cookie, just another no-good. What’re you gonna do with me?”
“Well, there’s lotsa pretty girls around here, ya know. Have ya seen anyone that strikes your fancy yet?”
“Now, Miss Cookie, I’ve got a lot more on my plate than looking for a woman.”
“Didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen a really pretty one, smart, too, but she keeps her distance. You know, the all-business type.”
“Um-hmm, not your type at all, is she? Don’t think you could mix a little business with pleasure? Those are usually the kind that are lonely, or scared of gettin’ hurt, or don’t think they have time. Maybe she thinks you’re just a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am fella,” Cookie suggested with lifted brows.
Judson tilted his head to the side and looked at Cookie.
“Well, anyway, I’m goin’ to feed you up right on this early Saturday morning. You sure are early today. You want your usual fried egg white and wheat toast, baby?”
Judson nodded his head.
“Oh, hey there, baby girl!” Cookie’s voice boomed a greeting toward the door.
“‘Mornin’, Cookie,” Nina returned, then paled, catching sight of Judson.
Cookie never missed a beat. “Well, get on over this way and share this table right here. I can’t have all my tables took up when other folks get here hungry.”
Nina and Judson looked around at all the empty tables. Cookie looked from Nina to Judson with a discerning eye and waddled over to Nina, her coffee pot sloshing as she went without spilling a drop. She took Nina by the arm with her free hand.
“Now then, missy. Sit. I got your hazelnut right here in my hand,” Cookie said as she took the clean cup Shoop-Shoop shuttled over to her, filled it, and set it across the table from Judson.
Nina didn’t move, neither did Judson. Staring was about all they seemed able to do.
“Sit, take that jacket off, and stay a minute,” Cookie commanded.
Nina plunked down into the chair like a robot and removed her jacket.
Judson’s eyes followed her descent.
“Um-hmm.” Cookie shuffled back to the counter.
“Good morning,” Judson said and took a sip of coffee.
Nina cleared her throat, said, “Good morning,” and took her own sip.
“I’m surprised to see you here. Do you come here often?”
Nina nodded. “Yes, it’s not too far from where I live. Well, you know that.”
“Yeah. It’s convenient to my place, too.”
Nina cocked her head. “So, you live in Deep Ellum?”
He nodded his head yes.
“I didn’t know.” Nina took another sip.
“I’ve been here about a month now. It was a pleasant surprise to find that the studio was in the neighborhood. Not much of a commute.” A smile lit his face, touching his eyes.
“True. It was one of the assets for me, for sure.”
“What you want to eat, baby girl? Brown sugar oatmeal with raisin sprinkles?” Cookie stood next to the table, a knowing grin crossing her full lips, touching her wise eyes.
“That sounds good, Cookie. And some really crisp bacon.”
“Oh? You back to eatin’ good again?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am!”
“Good to see it! Good to see it,” Cookie answered, then looked at Judson. “I’ll be bringin’ yours over with hers.”
“Thanks, Miss Cookie.”
“So, you’ve moved permanently to Dallas? Does this mean you’re no longer going to model? I mean, you’re pretty high up the ranks in that industry. Are you hoping to earn a good living from book trailers?” Nina asked and smiled up at Cookie as she returned to put her food, then Judson’s, down in front of them.
“Thanks.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Judson said and winked at Cookie.
“Y’all both very welcome. Eat up! I’ll be back with more hazelnut.”
“Mmm, I’ve got modeling gigs set up through the next year and a half. The agency agreed that I could commute from here to whatever locations are booked for the shoots. But I’m gonna keep writing. That’s the work I want to do. My agent’s here in town, and we’ve submitted something we feel good about. So we’ll see,” he finished and took a big bite of his fried egg whites and toast.
Nina stirred the brown sugar and raisins on top of her oatmeal into the mix.
“Really? I have an agent, too. I write screenplays.”
“Cool. Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. From what I’ve seen of your scripts, you’re a damn good writer. It would be interesting to see what comes from your head on your screenplays.” He bent his head down and cut his eyes up at her.
She flushed crimson. “Well, it does fall in line with my day job.”
“I get that. I have aspirations, too. If you look at my background, modeling, print, and television commercials and now the trailers, you might find this surprising, but my real desire is a serious writing career. Nothing like the crap I’m recognized for.”
His tone turned serious. “I’ve done whatever I’ve had to, you know, the modeling, to get by while I write. And to take care of my mama.”
Nina’s face softened, and he saw that.
“My mother sacrificed a lot for me,” he explained. “I wanted to get her out of that damned trailer park we had to live in after my dad died, and I was finally able to several years ago.” He took the last bite of his food and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.
A sad smile shadowed Nina’s lips, and she nodded.
“You’re a good son.”
“I don’t know about that, but I am a grateful son. Where did you grow up in Fort Worth?” he asked, curious.
“In a rundown trailer park,” she answered, meeting his gaze straight on.
“Oh, then you know how that is. Not quite the family home kids think back on fondly,” he stated.
She shook her head no.
“So, what kind of novels do you write?”
“Spy novels.” He looked out the large glass window to his right, Nina’s left.
“Looks like the rain’s stopped, and the sun’s trying to peek out.”
“Good. I bet I can make it to work before it starts up again,” Nina said, following his gaze.
“So you do work on the weekends.” This was a statement, though he delivered it half-teasingly.
“Not every weekend. We just want to get these trailers done. We actually got a call yesterday from another publisher.” Her face glowed.
“Congratulations!” he said, happy she felt she could tell him about her newest publishing client.
“Thanks.” She looked down at her place, a blush touching her cheeks.
“I’ve got to go to the hospital to check on Deannie. I guess you could consider that work,” he said with a little laugh.
“We’re planning on going up there, too, to explain why we had to go forward with the shoot yesterday and let her watch back the footage.”
“I know you’ve looked at it. What did you think?” Judson asked.
“It’s the best so far. Seriously, we couldn’t be more pleased…Did you and Shasta happen to tell Deannie we shot yesterday when y’all visited the hospital?” Nina asked tentatively.
“No, and believe it or not, it didn’t even come up. She was pretty groggy and focused on herself. As a matter of fact, we don’t think she even remembers her
demands that we not do the shoot. You could probably just go to the hospital to show her the footage and pretend she never made those demands. It’s not like you’d be lying if she doesn’t question you,” he encouraged.
Nina leaned back against her chair. “She mentioned nothing about it?”
“Not one syllable.”
Nina nodded.
He noticed Nina’s bowl and plate were nearly empty. He motioned to Cookie for the check.
“I know it’s still early, six-fifteen, but if you’re going that way would it be all right if I walk you to the studio?” he asked, almost timid.
There was a short pause.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” She ducked her head and looked into his eyes.
His lips twitched up at the corners. He reached for his wallet in the rear pocket of his jeans. The smile faded.
“Damn.”
“What is it, baby?” Cookie asked as she shuffled over with the check in her hand.
He turned a bright crimson. “I’ve left my wallet at home.”
“No problem, I’ll treat,” Nina said and grabbed her wallet from her little purse.
“I’ll do the treatin’ around here. Now the both of you get on goin’.”
“That’s not necessary, Cookie. I’ll just run to my place and get my wallet.”
Cookie tore the ticket to tiny shreds, threw it into the air like confetti, and asked in her bossiest voice, “Don’t y’all have someplace else to be? Now get on!” She shooed them away with her hands.
Shoop-Shoop tapped out a musical beat with his hands on top of the stainless steel counter for emphasis.
They jumped out of their chairs, slid their jackets back on, and headed toward the door. Nina stopped, turned around, and ran to the table to retrieve her purse where Cookie stood with her arms crossed and glaring, then dashed through the door toward Judson.
“Man, she means business!” Nina chuckled as she exited the coffee shop.
“No joke! I still want to walk you to the studio, but I do need to go get my wallet. If that’s okay. It’s not far.”
“That’s fine. I could use the walk,” Nina said and zipped her jacket against the dampness in the air.
They walked through the streets of Deep Ellum in comfortable silence. God, he wanted to hold her hand. When they reached his building, Judson told her, “I’d like to show you my place. It’s nothing fancy, but I’m proud of it. Or you can wait down here in the lobby if you’d like.”
He could tell she was thinking it over, then she said, “I’d really like to see your place. This is one of the buildings I looked at before I got my apartment. I’m curious to see what they’ve done with it.”
“Good. This way, ma’am,” he said playfully and led her to the elevator, thrilled that she trusted him enough to go up with him.
He would be on his very best behavior.
Chapter Ten
Surely she had lost her mind, going to Judson’s loft with him alone after the torture her body had dealt her over him.
She was just plumb dang nuts, as her granny would have said, what she had actually said about Nina’s mother, but Nina couldn’t help herself. Somewhere along the way her fears had evaporated. She would just go with the flow, see what he was like out of the work environment. Nobu hadn’t been enough, and this would help her know for sure that she’d conquered her fears regarding Judson Lane.
Her insides had done a funny little dance as they walked side by side down the sidewalk.
As they strolled along she’d admired the confidence in his step, the way he seemed to command the sidewalk. Not a runway strut or anything, more like a cowboy stride but long and deep and sure. There was no denying he was a Texas boy. And she liked it.
She thought about what she’d learned about him over breakfast. Instead of the pampered, easy childhood she’d judged him to have, he’d lived in a trailer park with his mother after his father died. Both of them had grown up in a trailer park. In Fort Worth. With tragedy. And they’d both survived. Her head wrapped around that one as the elevator glided to the third floor. She clutched her little purse to her side, her fingers digging in, but she stayed in the moment. Without fear, only nervous anticipation.
“Here we are.” He broke into her thoughts, holding the elevator for her.
Once they reached the paneled wooden door to his loft, he dug his keys out of his jeans pocket and fumbled with them as he tried to unlock it.
“You doing okay, there?” she asked, her lips pulling into a little smile.
His butt looks great in those jeans.
“Yeah, got it,” he answered as he pushed the heavy door open and stepped aside. “Go on in.”
Nina stepped into the darkness but could see the open space of the loft and felt welcome immediately. The entrance was opposite of a wall of enormous windows which looked out over the neighborhood, and against the dark sky, she could just make out the Dallas skyline.
“Wow. Some view.”
“It’s what sold me the place. It’s really beautiful in full light.”
She could feel him standing very near, just behind her, and fought the urge to turn around.
“My tub’s what sold me mine.”
“Your tub?”
“Yeah. It’s a big claw-foot. I love it. If it was a man, I’d marry it!”
“That’s interesting…”
“I’m just saying, my tub brings me comfort and joy.”
“Like a man would? Sorry, I’m not buying it.”
She turned to face him in the dusky light. He truly did have the face of Adonis, perfect eyes, nose, lips, all those corny things you read about heroes, but his face made her realize these words were not even remotely corny when applied to him. “What do you mean you don’t buy it?”
“I don’t think you’re the kind of woman who looks for anyone or anything to bring happiness. I think you depend on yourself to find that.”
She nodded. “You’re right.”
“Thought so.” He grinned and flipped on some lights. “Quick tour?”
“Sure.” She loosened her grip on her purse and followed him through the inviting space of his loft. A light wood bookcase reached from floor to ceiling on a twelve-foot high wall. It had a ladder and very little room left for more books.
“Looks like you’re about out of room for any more books.”
“Yeah, I’m a pretty voracious reader. But I actually do have more shelves upstairs,” he said, watching her gaze scan the myriad books.
“Not an e-book guy, huh?” She sent him an impish grin.
“I like those, too. But there’s something about holding a book. Feeling it in my hands. I just can’t get rid of these.”
“Have you read every one of them?”
“Every single one.”
“Any of them romances?” She lifted an inquisitive brow.
“Yes, actually.” He moved toward one of the heavy-laden shelves. “Here’s the trilogy we’re shooting now. And, I’ll admit Pride and Prejudice is one of the best stories ever written in my opinion.”
“I like that one, too. And I love the movie version with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen. Deborah Moggach wrote that particular screenplay, and it’s the best one I’ve ever seen for that novel.”
A chocolate leather chair and a half and matching ottoman sat nestled in a cozy corner, crowned by an angular contemporary reading lamp. She pictured him there reading, perhaps writing on a laptop, then turned back to his generous library.
They shared a few silent, comfortable minutes looking through his collection.
“The living area focuses on the view, so I’ve tried to arrange the furniture to support that,” he said and moved toward chocolate leather couches arranged to get the perfect view of the Dallas skyline.
“Did you have a decorator? This is picture perfect,” Nina commented, taking the room in all the way to the top of the windows reaching twenty feet to the ceiling.
“No, no decorator, not yet, at least. A
nd, I still need some more art. I’ve brought what I collected through the years, but would like to fill in the holes.”
“This place needs big art, with the high ceilings. There’s lots of big art to be found in Deep Ellum.”
“I’ve been looking around, and I’ve seen some pieces that got my attention,” he said, watching her face.
“I’d say you don’t have anything to worry about. This place is breathtaking.”
Judson chuckled. “Maybe I should’ve offered my place to shoot trailer number one.” He shot her a teasing glance.
Her producer’s eyes went into focus, and she examined the possibilities in her mind.
“I can see your wheels are turning.”
She looked up at him and gave him a winning smile. “Always.”
He waved his arm toward the kitchen, then flipped a switch to illuminate it. “Here is the kitchen, which is mostly unused to this point.”
Spotlights threw light on the impeccable, stainless steel appliances accenting black granite counter tops.
“Do you cook? This is a fabulous kitchen. And so totally contemporary,” she commented, running her fingertips along the smooth surface of the double-door stainless-steel fridge.
“One thing I like so much about Deep Ellum is the blending of the old and the new. I wanted a place that reflected that, as your studio does. And, I do cook from time to time, just not much since I moved into this place. I’m by no means a chef. I just watch cooking shows when I have a little free time.”
“I suspect you’re able to do anything you set your mind to, Judson Lane.”
He shrugged. “I try. Care to take a look upstairs? If not, it’s okay. I’ll just run up there to get my wallet.”
“I’d like to see the upstairs. If it’s near as nice as what I’ve seen so far, it’s certainly worth a little tour.” She took another look around and started up the stairs behind him, not as a lamb to the slaughter, but as a woman to fulfillment.
Just as the downstairs windows extended to the upper loft area, the bookshelves did, too.
“Oh, I see what you mean about having room for more books. Did you have these built for the place?”
“I did. I’d seen something similar online and had them installed before I moved in.”
Hatten, Catherine - Trailer Trash [Deep Ellum] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 8
