She only shook her head, not looking at him.
“Ginger, did he hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t. I—I told him what he wanted to know.”
Joe frowned. Her answer didn’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?”
Tears began running down Ginger’s pale cheeks. “I betrayed my friend. I wasn’t brave enough.”
He actually felt jealousy rise in him. “What friend?”
“Don’t make me tell you, Joe, please? I promised myself I would never do that again, even if he used the knife.”
Joe stood and came around the table, pulling Ginger from her chair into his arms. “Honey, don’t cry. Was your friend Daisy?” He’d suddenly remembered her talking about the other waitress, Daisy, calling her her best friend.
She began shaking, and the tears turned into sobs as she nodded.
He drew a deep breath and pressed her closer to him. “Someone threatened you with a knife to force you to reveal a secret about Daisy?”
With her head pressed into his chest, she nodded.
He couldn’t imagine a secret about Daisy that would be that important, but he didn’t really care. Ginger was his concern.
“You didn’t have a choice, honey. I’m sure Daisy would understand that. Where did this happen?”
“When I started home one night, he was in the parking lot at the club. He grabbed me.”
“I think we need more lights in that parking lot. I’ll see to it. But that’s why you’re not going to walk the streets at night. Or the daytime, either. I’m going to teach you to drive.” He waited for her response, but she said nothing. After kissing her forehead, he eased her back down into her chair.
“Eat some more ice cream.” He sat back down in his chair, too. “You see, Ginger, if I was truly married, I’d protect my wife, just like I want to protect you. And you’re not going to be sent back to Estonia. We’re married, and we’ll stay married for at least a year. Then, when we separate, I’ll give you money to help you manage.”
“No! You’re giving me a chance to stay here. I can’t take your money.”
He should have known she would respond that way. “Okay, then, will you help me? Will you pretend like we’re married? I have money, Ginger. I’m going to have to spend some on you. But more important, I’m going to have to spend time with you, or no one will believe we’re married.”
“But how can I—”
“By working a lot less at the club. I can’t ask you to give up your school. You’d lose all the hours you’ve gone to class and studied. But I’ll provide the money if you’ll give me some time. For example, when they have the opening of the Men’s Grill Saturday night, I’ll need you by my side, not working. And I’ll need you dressed in a cocktail dress.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised his hand. “My friends will expect it.”
“Your friends seem very demanding,” she grumbled, which brought a grin to his face.
“Yeah, they are. Remember, I grew up here. They know me well.”
“So I must ask Harvey to take Saturday night off? He won’t like it.”
“Not just Saturday night. I don’t want you working at night anymore. We’ll need time to do some shopping and driving lessons. Mom is already talking about a big party to celebrate our marriage. I haven’t even told my godfather yet. He’ll probably want to give us a party, too.”
“Who is your godfather?”
“Archy Wainwright.” He grinned when her eyes widened in surprise. “He and Dad are best friends.”
“But the Wainwrights and the Carsons started the club!”
“Oh, yeah. And you can bet they’ll all be there Saturday night. Now, I know you’re tired and you need to get some rest. I’ll drive you to the club in the morning and change your schedule with Harvey. You can work five days a week, but not longer than nine-thirty to two. That will give us some afternoons to spend together, and the nights you don’t have school.”
“But I won’t make much money.”
“True, but I’m going to give you money to do things. You can save every penny you make. Go get ready for bed.”
“But the laundry—”
“The maid comes tomorrow. Do you want her to have nothing to do? Trust me, sweetheart. Everything will get taken care of.”
To his relief, Ginger nodded and went to her room. He’d convinced her more easily than he’d thought—mainly because she believed she owed him for marrying her.
He was beginning to think it might be him who owed her. Life was a lot more fun now that Ginger was with him.
The next morning Joe got up at his normal time, seven. He slipped into some jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the kitchen, where he found Ginger making a pot of coffee.
“Good morning. I thought maybe you’d sleep in today.”
“I’m used to getting up early,” Ginger told him. “I think we still have a few eggs and some bacon. Is that okay for breakfast?”
“Of course it is. But it’s my turn to cook for you.”
“You said the wife does the cooking.”
“Damn, I wish I’d never opened my mouth. You always remember what I said.” From what his friends told him, their wives never remembered anything they said. Not true of Ginger.
She smiled at him, relieving his mind. He was afraid he’d upset her last night. “You may make the toast.”
“It’s a deal,” he said. “And after you get off work this afternoon, we’ll do some grocery shopping. Then we’ll come home and you can study.”
“You won’t mind?” she asked.
As he answered, she moved to the refrigerator to take out the essentials for breakfast. “Not at all. What period are you studying?”
“The Civil War. It was a terrible time.”
“Yes, it was. We don’t fight ourselves anymore, except for gangs, drug wars, things like that.” He hadn’t thought of those things as war, but he guessed they were.
“There is crime in Estonia, too.”
“Uh, yeah. But you’re not going there again. Hand out the butter. I think I’ll broil the toast, since we have time. I like it that way.”
Once everything was ready, they sat together and had a leisurely breakfast.
“I like starting my day like this,” he told her with a smile.
“But what about work?”
“Right now I’m finishing up a few little details at the club. But I’m thinking about starting my own architectural firm here in Mission Creek.” For months that idea had been floating around in his mind, but last night, knowing he’d need to stay here in Mission Creek for at least a year for Ginger’s sake, he’d finally made the decision.
“You won’t have to go to a big city to find work?”
“Were you worried about that?” he asked, seeing the frown on her face.
“Maybe. I don’t want to leave Mission Creek. But you were living in Chicago, you said. I was afraid—I mean, you might want to go back.”
Joe smiled. “I thought I would, but now I don’t think so. I’ve enjoyed being back home with my family.”
“They are very nice.”
“Yeah, if they don’t tease you to death. I’ve got to go shave and shower before it’s time to go. It’s only eight-thirty, but I’d better get started. Let’s stack the dishes in the sink and leave them to the maid. She should be—” The doorbell rang.
“She’s here.” He hurried to the door. “Come in, Maria. I want to introduce you to my wife.” He led the way to the kitchen. Then he realized what he’d forgotten. “Uh, Maria, I got married this past weekend. This is my wife, Ginger.”
He hurriedly got down a cup and poured some coffee for Maria.
“Oh, no, Mr. Turner. I need to start work.” Maria nodded to Ginger, but she didn’t sit down.
“Uh, I need you to explain to Ginger what you do. She may have some other chores for you. In fact, I wondered if you could spare me another day. Maybe Friday as well as Tuesday?”
�
�Yes, I guess I can. Mrs. Wilson doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Perfect, Maria. Talk to Ginger about what you do.” He leaned over and kissed Ginger before he slipped out of the kitchen.
Instead of heading for his shower, he went instead to Ginger’s bedroom. It hadn’t occurred to him that they couldn’t let Maria see that they weren’t sharing a room. He opened the drawers and closet and scooped up the few clothes Ginger had put in there and hurried back to his room. He was making a second trip when Ginger ran into him.
“What’s Maria doing?” he demanded in a whisper.
“She’s cleaning the kitchen. But, Joe, you don’t have to pay her to do what I should do.” Ginger finally noticed that he was carrying her books for school. “What are you doing?”
“I’m putting all your things in my room. Maria mustn’t know we aren’t, uh, sharing the same room.”
“She will tell?”
“I can’t ask her to lie for us. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“But why would they ask her?”
“Because they will think she’ll know. Go gather up what’s left and bring the towel you used.”
Ginger felt strange going into Joe’s room. Not only was his bedroom bigger than the entire apartment she and her mother had shared in Estonia, but Joe wasn’t in sight.
Then she realized the door to his private bath was closed and she could hear the shower running. She almost stopped breathing as she pictured him with water sluicing down his broad chest.
Unlike most of the men at the club, he didn’t play golf. His favorite exercise, she recalled, was racquetball. Once she had brought a pot of coffee to some men waiting for a court. Joe had been playing and she’d paused to watch him. He was fast and strong.
She shook her head as if to dispel the memory, then remembered why she was in here. Purposefully she opened the walk-in closet, found some space on several shelves and put her personal items there. Then she headed for the kitchen, thinking it best to give Joe some privacy.
But when she went into the kitchen, she discovered Maria had already washed the dishes. “Oh!”
“What is the matter, señora?”
“I—I was going to have a little more coffee, but—”
“Of course, señora,” Maria said, reaching for a clean cup. “I will pour it for you.”
“No. I don’t want to make more work for you.”
Maria gave her a curious look. “It is my job.” Then she poured the coffee. “Do you want to drink it while you watch the news?”
“The news?” Ginger asked. She didn’t own a television and had never made a habit of watching it. But she didn’t want to disagree with Maria. She was already causing her extra work. “Yes, please, that will be fine.”
“Does señor want more coffee?”
“No, he’s in the shower.”
Maria walked past her, carrying her cup of coffee, and Ginger followed her. Maria clicked on the television, then set the coffee on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen.
Ginger stood there, uncertain what to do. She couldn’t go back into the kitchen and bother Maria. She couldn’t go into Joe’s bedroom and disturb him. And she no longer had her own bedroom.
Would she sleep on the sofa tonight? Or perhaps she could slip into the bedroom she’d been using after Maria left. If not, what was she going to do?
Her knees felt weak at that thought. She sank down to the sofa and picked up the coffee cup. That was what she would do. She could get her clothing for the next day each evening and sleep in the same bed she’d been using. But before Maria came, she would strip the bed and put everything in Joe’s room.
Surely Joe would want that. It would take time, but she wasn’t going to work as much. She could handle a little extra effort. Was it possible, as Joe had said, that she would be able to stay here for a year? Maybe stay in Mission Creek for years without having to worry about being returned to Estonia? Or to her mother?
Should she call her mother and let her know that her daughter was now married and beyond that evil man’s reach? Would it help her mother?
It was the first time contacting her mother had occurred to Ginger. She knew the number by memory. After a quick look at Joe’s closed door, she picked up the phone from the lamp table. Dialing the number, she tensely waited for someone to answer, hopefully her mother.
“Hello?”
“Mama, it is Virvela,” she said softly.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you, but I want you to know I am married. I’m not coming back.”
“You must! They will beat me again.”
“I’m married, Mama. He can’t marry me.”
“He didn’t want to marry you. I am the one who insisted on marriage. I did that for you!”
“Well, I’m not coming back. Goodbye, Mama.”
Her mother was scolding her in her native tongue as Ginger hung up. She didn’t even realize she was crying until Joe came out of his room and approached her.
“Ginger? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did Maria say something mean?”
“No. Maria was wonderful. I—I’m sorry. I know I should’ve asked but I called Mama. I told her I was married and would not be coming back.”
“She was unhappy?”
“She said they would beat her again. She said the man did not want to marry me, that she insisted he do so.”
Joe reached over and wiped her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what he wanted, sweetheart. He can’t mess with you now. You belong to me.”
“I don’t want to cause you trouble.” She wiped the new tears away. “What if—”
“No. You’re safe. They don’t know where you are. But don’t call her again, okay? At least not before we talk about it.”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Come on. We’re going to talk to Harvey now. We’ll fight one battle at a time, okay?”
She nodded but couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.
He pulled her against him. “If you keep crying, everyone will think I’m being mean to my wife.” She looked up to protest and Joe kissed her. “You know, you have the softest lips, Mrs. Turner. And your husband sure does enjoy kissing you. Good thing it’s part of the job.”
“But no one can see us now. There’s no need—”
Maria appeared at the door as if on cue. She smiled when she saw Joe’s arms around Ginger.
“Oh, hi, Maria,” Joe said with a grin. “We’re just leaving.”
“Sí, señor.”
He turned Ginger around and led her to the door, her hand snug in his. Ginger didn’t protest. For once she felt safe and secure.
Six
Harvey greeted Ginger with a smile, but his smile didn’t extend to Joe. “What are you doing here, Joe? Are you finally going to discuss the opening with me?”
“No, Harvey, I’m here to discuss my wife’s schedule with you.”
Harvey immediately looked at Ginger. “You told me you wanted to continue working. Tell him.”
Joe sat back and looked at Ginger. He could tell she was sympathetic to Harvey. He hoped she kept her word to him.
“Mr. Small, I didn’t realize how much time it would take to…to be Joe’s wife. I can’t work as many hours. I’m very sorry.”
“So you want Sundays off?”
Ginger sank her teeth into her bottom lip and looked at Joe. He knew what she wanted. “No, Harvey,” he said calmly. “She’s cutting back to about twenty hours a week.”
“What? You can’t do that! I’ll be shorthanded. That’s impossible.” Harvey straightened his shoulders and stared at Joe, as if daring him to do such a thing.
“My wife has no need to work at all, Harvey. You know that. So it’s your choice. Some or none.”
“Ginger,” Harvey began, pleading in his tone, “if you cut back so many hours, I won’t have anyone to fill in. It will be difficult—”
Joe leaned over and kissed Ginger’s lips as she started to speak. “H
oney, you’d best go get started or you’ll be late. I’ll finish the conversation with Harvey.”
Ginger looked at her watch. “Oh! I didn’t realize it was so late. Sorry, Mr. Small.” She hurried from the office.
“You did that on purpose!” Harvey accused, staring at Joe.
“Yes, I did. You’ve been letting her work too much ever since she started here. If I were you, I’d accept the decision. Otherwise, I’ll convince Ginger to quit altogether and your management practices will receive much closer scrutiny from the club president.”
With a deep frown, Harvey nodded, which made Joe wonder what else he was doing that was against the rules. Standing to leave, Joe remembered something else. “I’m going to look at the employee parking lot. I’ve heard the lighting isn’t good.”
“It wasn’t part of the redo. There’s as much lighting as there ever was.”
“Yeah. I’ll let you know what I find.”
Then he walked out.
While they prepared the Yellow Rose Café for lunch, Ginger told Daisy about her change of schedule.
“I’m so glad, Ginger. You were working too much.”
“But I—I didn’t tell you about the INS because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I’m not a citizen. I was saving money for when I was sent back to Estonia.”
“But now that you’ve married Joe, you won’t be sent back. That’s terrific!”
Ginger wasn’t ready to celebrate. “We have to pass a test.”
“What kind of test?” Daisy asked. “Like the one in that movie about getting a green card? I rented the video a couple of months ago. It wasn’t hard. They asked personal questions, that’s all. If your marriage is real, it won’t be hard.”
Ginger smiled, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, while she frantically thought of all she didn’t know about her husband. She would never pass such a test. In spite of Joe’s promise, she realized again that she could be sent back in three months.
When two o’clock rolled around, it seemed very strange to walk out of the club. Joe was there waiting for her in the parking lot.
“Ready to do some shopping?” he asked, smiling at her.
The Last Bachelor Page 6
