The Remaining Sister (Sister Series, #9)

by Leanne Davis

  “I never thought our womanhood was the draw. Does it bother you that I’m your boss?” He slid the plate across to her. She sat on a bar seat and took the meal, sinking her fork into the tortellini with white sauce on it.

  “No.”

  She lowered the forkful she was about to set on her tongue. “Honestly? It doesn’t bother you? You don’t feel uncomfortable for getting personal with the same person who tells you what to do? I sign your paycheck. Don’t you think it’s kind of unusual?”

  He shrugged but his shoulders still looked relaxed and at ease. “I know what my job is and what I was hired to do. You made it pretty clear and specific, as you always do. Perhaps that’s the reason why I rarely ask for further instructions—”

  “Or speak to me ever.”

  “Yeah, that too. It doesn’t matter to me whether a man or a woman tells me how to do what I’m hired for. Besides, you’re successful, far more than I am at this point, so why the hell would I think it reflected negatively on me? It has little or nothing to do with me, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Well, yeah. Duh. But most men might not agree with you or see it that way.”

  “Bit of a generalization, isn’t it?”

  “Just a conclusion from personal experience.”

  He came around the bar and sat on the stool next to her, facing her.

  But she looked forward and continued eating, then said, “I’m not though.”

  “What?” His tone emphasized his puzzlement.

  “Successful. It was all Ebony’s influence. She did everything. The café was her idea. She thought of it years ago during her first year in college. She studied business specifically with that in mind. She asked her professors for their advice on this exact scenario and how she should go about financing and opening such a venture. She learned how to make a business plan and secured the financing before we set up the space. She did so much research, you can’t even imagine it. She found a small business loan that was specifically designed for women-run businesses that not only offered low rates but also required little to no down payment or collateral. Ebony presented her business plan with all the costs and cash flow outlined along with her predicted target customers. She even had statistics on how many truckers used this highway and other pertinent demographics. It was so impressive. And it was all her doing. Ryder had some money to invest but she refused to let him. She insisted that it be only our joint venture. She was like that. Stubborn as a mule and proud as a lioness. A very annoying and impossible-to-please combination, but it also took her quite far in life. I mean, look at what she accomplished. She filled her life with everything she wanted before she died. And she was so young. All I did was cook and write the menu. She ran the whole restaurant.”

  Suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of her sister, Chloe’s stomach twisted in repulsion and she set her utensil down. “Then she disappeared and left all of it to me. My sole responsibility. My way.” She shook her head, staring down, ashamed to admit what she never told anyone, not even Ryder or her parents. “I can’t do it. All this time, for the past three years, I’ve had no idea what I’m doing. Not since the moment I realized it was all under my care and management. I floundered and instantly flubbed it up. The mistakes I made… I could sit here listing all the things I’ve over-ordered and the money I wasted, not to mention all the paperwork I’ve screwed up. I’ve had to pay plenty of late fines, and naturally, the insurance costs only keep rising and on and on it goes. There were bills I didn’t know I had to pay and so much paperwork. Stuff I had no idea how to figure out. Like accounting—what a nightmare. That’s why I never bothered to read your employment file. I don’t do any of those things right because I never worked as a manager or an office person, let alone, someone who knows anything about interviews and hiring staff. With you it was easy. Dok provided the answer for me and filled a position I needed filled. Meanwhile, I didn’t have to do anything. It was like magic. One less thing for me to fail at. You started when Ebony had just vanished. I never learned how to do what Ebony did. She was the real talent and business woman. Truly, I was no more than the cook. Did you know that? I used to cook. Before Tiana. She’s my aunt and I had to hire her because there was no way I could keep up without Ebony. I miss just cooking now. That’s what I wanted to do. I still want to cook.”

  “You’re doing it.”

  “What? Cooking? A few pastries now and then isn’t what I call cooking.”

  “No. I mean, you’re doing everything Ebony did. You do manage everything, from the office work to ordering supplies to paying us. No one would suspect differently. You’re managing all of it.”

  She peeked his way, surprised and pleased that he noticed she did, and thought so.

  “There’s so much more I could do. Ebony had so many great ideas and the motivation, ambition, drive, and know-how to make them happen. She wanted to expand our services into personal catering and had so many creative ideas on how to get more loans. Me? The risk of taking on more debt just scares me. I try never to do it. I can barely manage what I’m doing now. How could I add to that? She was the visionary. The go-getter. She was the real owner. Truly. I’m just the dumb cook who keeps letting so many things fall through the cracks.”

  “You don’t have to be like Ebony. Or do it her way. Can you make a living at it?”

  “Yes. Actually, I do. I won’t be rich anytime soon, but yes. Satisfactory for me.”

  “You also provide a decent living for your employees, right? Me. My mom. Petra. Tiana. Tara. You not only employ five residents but you also create a place for all the citizens of Silver Springs to congregate. You’re beloved by this town and so is your café. Your café has become a staple, maybe even the focal point of this village. People talk about it with pride and assume everyone else knows about it. It’s where couples go on special dates and large groups meet to discuss activities or fundraisers. So it’s not nothing. You don’t have to do any more than you already do to enjoy and feel a valid sense of pride in what you’ve accomplished.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She’d never heard Chet speak that way. “Um… I… really?”

  His version, however, sounded a whole hell of a lot more impressive, interesting, and important than her version. Her version was that she could barely function and always seemed to be behind the eight ball. The café was nothing more than an over-blown truck stop.

  “Really. You didn’t know that? Did you see all the people at the funeral? The whole town was there for you, more than for Ryder or your parents or even Ebony. People were bereft for you. Your pain is theirs. Your loss is theirs. They see you all the time and interact with you. You’re the person who always smiles and greets them and takes care of them. That can’t be found at a cold franchise in town from a stranger. You create a community of kindness around you, an atmosphere of joy. People feel welcome. You provide a sense of belonging and community. The last thing people with my kind of personality could ever create. People notice that about you. And they value and cherish it because they know you are genuine about it. They care for you. Your sister had talents and lots of unique qualities that she brought to this business, but so do you.”

  She blew out a slow breath. “That’s far more flattering than I deserve.”

  “No. I don’t believe in flattery. I can’t be bothered.”

  She laughed because something rang true about his words in their deadpan tone. She knew he wouldn’t bother. That was something she could attest to. He was serious, blunt, and intense, rarely bothering with idle compliments or small talk. She finally replied, “Thank you. That means a lot to me. And I know you wouldn’t say it unless you meant it.”

  His gaze stayed steady on hers. “Now what, Chloe? Do you want to stay here? Not on my couch, or would you rather go home? Or go to your parents?”

  She sucked in a breath. Here it was. Time to own this, even if it was still undefined for her. It was so impossible to describe or give a clear-cut label to. Too soon. Too awkward. Too uncomfortable.
And yet, all she wanted was to climb into his bed and stay there. She longed to be held by him. She ached to feel less small and not so alone in a world that once seemed so lovely, safe, engaging, and worthwhile. Now she felt like she was continuously fighting to avoid being swallowed whole.

  “I’m scared to go home,” she admitted, taking the cowardly route.

  He sighed, narrowing his eyes on her. “Okay, so on my couch it is.” Hopping to his feet, he started to turn to leave her.

  “Wait!” she sputtered, shocked at how swiftly he moved. “What do you mean?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb with me, Chloe. If you’re here because you’re scared to stay alone after last night’s visitor, I get it. You can sleep on my couch. I’m not going to beg you. I thought it was something different. Good night.” Turning around, he left her there.

  Damn. Literal to the crazy. He didn’t ever suffer from waffling or insecurity. He didn’t fail to say something because he was nervous, embarrassed or just plain scared to voice the words. Maybe he chose not to label it. Sometimes, people needed someone to talk them into it. But not Chet.

  She stepped after him. “Chet. Stop.”

  He was at his bedroom door. Again with the inquiring look, and he even raised his eyebrows. She stared down at the ground, twisting her fingers together. “I don’t want to stay on your couch. You’ve got to read my signals a little bit better, okay? I don’t always just outright voice my intentions.”

  “Why not? If you want something to be a certain way, then say so. If you don’t, tell me. It’s a waste of my time otherwise, but also because you’re my boss, Chloe. This doesn’t have to affect things if you’re honest and real. But if you aren’t, it could. I could be coming on to you when it’s not welcome. I can’t just go by subtle signals you want me to pick up on. Be clear because I take you at your word.”

  She was sure she looked like a barnyard owl with her eyes as wide as saucers. He made a huge and valid point. But she’d never known anyone who could be so direct.

  “And for that matter, from here forward, if you want to have sex, just say so. If that’s the extent of what you prefer to have between us, just tell me. It’s fine. If you want something more, then say what it is. If I offend you or upset you, you have to tell me. If you want or need something, then plainly tell me.”

  The way he said it suggested his past experiences. “You’ve had this happen before?”

  “Yeah. Expecting people to guess your intentions by poking around and finding a different meaning from what you say? Seems like a waste of time to me. I’m not interested in that.”

  She held his gaze. His arms were crossed and she gulped as she replied, “You don’t dick around.”

  His lips lifted. “I just wanted to be clear. I like being clear and honest. I don’t see why that is hard for anyone. Or why it’s too much to ask some people not to jerk me around. Combined with my past experience, I have concluded that’s where most of the avoidable misunderstandings come from.”

  She bit her lip. “You’re right, it is. But, Chet, sometimes, things just aren’t that clear-cut. Sometimes, well, sometimes a person is just emotional or upset or moody. It sounds like you expect me to be clear-cut in my thoughts at all times. I can promise you right now that I can’t provide that yet. Not while my emotions over Ebony’s murder continue to rage. And even about Ryder and Tara. It sometimes obscures what I want to think or even feel. Including what I am even doing here. I’m not playing games with you. I really don’t know why I am here.”

  He leaned his shoulder into the door as she spoke, setting his gaze solidly on her. She’d give him credit for that; his focus was laser-like when he gave his undivided attention to her. It was both disconcerting and flattering. She couldn’t decide what she thought or felt about him at all. Not even a little. How could she? She was still mired in grief from the trauma, shock, guilt, shame, and loss. His sudden interest in her wasn’t anything she was prepared to encounter. How could she find the right words for it?

  “I can’t give you any guarantee that I’ll be as clear-cut and straightforward as you want me to be. I need a little understanding and some time and I would appreciate your forgiveness when my emotions get the better of me, like they did with Tara, and I lose it. To hear you describe it, we couldn’t last two hours with each other because I’m an emotional wreck and you insist on conversing exclusively by using clear and concise logic.”

  “You’re missing the point. I can handle your emotions, as well as your confusion and grief even. Just be clear about what you want from me. I consider you an adult who says what she means and I will respond to you as such.”

  “So despite my ragged emotions, you’ll always believe what I say and assume I mean it?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Huh,” she grunted.

  “I accept whatever anyone says with the same gravity, unless I know differently.”

  She believed him. “Why would you want me now? Why start something with someone at the same time as the beginning of an emotional quagmire? It’s just starting, Chet. I’m not going to get miraculously better. It might take years. I might be a wreck and overly emotional or have volatile mood swings and cry a whole lot. Why on earth would you be willing to take that on?”

  He dropped his arms to his sides and straightened up. “Because I like you. A lot. I like being around you, and that’s enough for me.”

  “That’s it? Because you like me?”

  His gaze darted around as he shrugged. “What better reason could there be?”

  She didn’t know. His simple and honest answer rang true. “You’re not the kind of man who can spin elaborate prose or garnish your words with charm, but Chet, because of that, I believe every single word you say. It seems as if you are always deadly serious. No games. No crap. And I doubt you would ever lie to me.”

  “No, you’re right about that. I don’t lie.”

  “Or cheat. Or steal. Or even fudge on stuff, do you?”

  “Not really. No.”

  She nodded, smiling at his deadly earnest reaction. She sensed he applied his philosophy throughout his life and she liked to believe that. Especially at a time when she wasn’t sure of anything else. For some reason, knowing she could be sure of whatever he said comforted her.

  She sighed. “I don’t see why anyone would want to even start a relationship with me right now. I don’t know what will happen. Or how I will react. I can’t imagine that it would be good. Neither my moods nor my disposition. I can’t imagine ever feeling happy again or wanting to go out and have fun. How could anyone choose to be part of that after losing so much?” She lifted her eyes up and stared at his. He already had his gaze fastened on her.

  “I don’t need constant amusement or artificial fun. I accept you exactly as you are. I saw you at the funeral. There’s nothing I don’t get about this situation right now for you.”

  Gasping, her breath seemed to be impaired and she worried it would strangle her. How could anyone want that? Much less, choose it? But she wanted very much to believe him. He said and did exactly what he meant to. No games. No pretenses. Not even confusing facial expressions. Always neutral. So maybe he could handle her unpredictability right now. The only thing she knew was she wasn’t okay, and not going to be anytime soon. Maybe not even years from now. And she foresaw it getting worse before it could begin to get better. “I should leave. No one deserves something so capricious. Wait. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I mean, why else would anyone even try to approach me when you did? Maybe I’m reading this all wrong.” She pressed her knuckles into her aching eyes. She couldn’t get a grip on it or figure out anything, let alone, this.

  “It’s what I want.”

  She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, shocked at his statement, his honesty, and so much more. It was the only thing that could manage to extract her heart from the black hole it had fallen into since the moment she first learned her sister was dead. She blinked her eyes open and w
hispered, “I came here because, well, I feel so alone by myself and when you are around—”

  “What?” he stepped away from the doorway and walked towards her. His arms came out and he pulled her close to him. In response, her hands slid up his chest towards his shoulders and wrapped around his neck.

  “The only thing that makes it feel tolerable is you.”

  “Then let that be all the explanation you need.”

  She drew in a breath and finally nodded. “Okay, I don’t want to go home or sleep on the couch.”

  He embraced her tightly and long, holding her right there in the small hallway. His head burrowed into where her neck met her shoulder. His breath was warm on her neck and ear, and she shut her eyes and leaned against him. She felt safe and protected and wanted and warm. Otherwise? She was cold. Numb. Dead. It scared her when it was otherwise. This special person who was still a stranger, but whom she knew for three years was enchanting her. How could she make sense of it? Being so fucked up in her emotions and her thoughts, maybe it didn’t matter if she couldn’t explain it. Chet couldn’t either and didn’t seem to want to.

  He finally released her and held her hand as he brought her towards his bed. She glanced around, seeing the room was only big enough for his bed and one nightstand. But it was meticulously clean, which she expected after how well he’d taken care of her house and the café. He placed her on the bed, coming up behind her, and tugged the covers over them.

  The dark soothed her. His calm but commanding way in which he took care of her helped her feel like she was nearly back in control. And definitely not so alone. She didn’t need to question it any longer. Falling asleep after his silence, she reveled in his comfort and companionship.

  Chapter Ten

  IT WAS AS IF Chloe went into hibernation. However, she didn’t go home to do it, which was where she should probably have gone. No. After that night, she hunkered down and hid away in Chet’s place. And he let her. He didn’t even once hint that she should go home and give him his space, as any reasonable person might have demanded. Or requested. Or expected. No. Chet embraced her. She woke up the next morning and felt awkward with him. But she didn’t hesitate to say yes to his suggestion that they go out to breakfast. They ate at a little coffee shop in Silver Springs, not her café, which she still avoided. Upon passing it, however, Chloe didn’t fail to notice the parking lot was full. Sunday mornings drew crowds before and after church so the place was usually hopping. It was odd how detached she felt toward it though. It belonged solely to her now. It was all hers. She spotted Petra and Tara when the car passed by in a blur. She didn’t care and quickly turned away, uninterested in what was going on there. Neither the staff, the customers nor the business in general managed to draw her interest. Chloe wasn’t sure which days Chet worked now that Petra was making the schedule.