Close to You (13 page)

A hand touched her shoulder. She
turned to find Allison holding out a cup of coffee. “For
me?”

“
You need sustenance.” Her
barista glanced at Charles, her usually expressive face guarded.
“He’s talking to the insurance?”

“
Yes.” She sighed, trying
not to dwell.

“
They’ll cover the damages,
won’t they? It was vandalism.”

Eve frowned. “It was a hose left on. I
can’t necessarily prove it was vandalism.”

“
Crap,” Allison said
succinctly.

“
I know.” She was losing
today’s revenues and had no idea how much it’d take to fix it all.
Her father said he thought the water had seeped into the flooring,
which meant new floors as well as new drywall.

Where was the money coming
from?

And even if insurance covered it,
she’d have to close a couple days to get the work done, and even
then it was iffy whether it’d get done in time for Daniela Rossi’s
visit.

She was screwed.

One thing at a
time.
Calming herself with a sip of coffee,
she forced herself to focus on the moment. “There’s no reason for
you to stay, Allison. Go home.”

“
Are you sure?” She glanced
at Charles again. “You may need reinforcements.”

“
I’ve been dealing with him
a long time,” she said with a wry smile. “Besides, nothing really
buffers his impact.”

“
Okay,” Allison said
reluctantly. “But I can come back if you need me.”

“
Thanks.” She gave her a
hug.

“
Eve,” her father barked,
putting his phone away.

“
Good luck,” her barista
murmured, giving her a last squeeze.

She was going to need it. Taking a
deep breath, she went to see what her dad wanted. “Did you talk to
the insurance agent?”

“
They’re going to send
someone out to survey the damage.” He glared at her. “I’m going to
have a hard time selling this as vandalism.”

She frowned. “You don’t
think
I
left the
hose on?”

He gave her that implacable stare he
gave his employees when they’d screwed up. It didn’t help that she
was barefoot, with her jeans rolled up. She felt like a kid who’d
knocked over her milk.

“
Excuse me,” a deep voice
interrupted.

With a small gasp, she turned to see
Treat walking towards them.

Her first reaction was pleasure and
relief. But then she remembered Charles was there and tensed up.
She didn’t want Treat to hear her father extol all her
failures.

Probably noting her quizzical
expression, Treat said, “Allison let me in. She told me what
happened.”

“
Who are you?” Charles
barked, squaring off with hands in his pockets.

“
Treat Byrnes.” He held out
his hand and looked her father in the eye. “A friend of
Eve’s.”

Her dad shook his hand, which to Eve
looked like a battle for a moment. But then they let go, and she
could see grudging respect in her father’s eyes.

Treat turned to her. She expected that
he’d be cool after her father’s power play, but he looked mildly
amused yet concerned for her. “Allison said there was water
damage.”

She nodded, suddenly wanting to cry.
Blinking her eyes, she shored up. She couldn’t show weakness in
front of Charles. “Someone left the hose on in the
back.”

Her father snorted
at
someone
.

She ignored him. “It wasn’t on
Saturday as far as I know, so it must have happened Sunday. I
didn’t catch it because I’m closed on Sundays, and this morning
there was water everywhere.”

“
Can I take a look?” he
asked gently.

She nodded.

He smiled at her reassuringly and
headed to the back.

“
Who is he?” her father
asked, gaze following Treat.

“
A friend.” He didn’t need
to know Treat was going to be her lover soon. “He’s a
contractor.”

Charles grunted, watching Treat like
he was going to steal the family silver.

Treat came back quickly, wiping his
hands on his jeans. “It’s not as bad as it looks. You’ll need new
drywall and paint in a few spots, but the floors are okay as long
as you dry them out completely.”

Her father glared at her like it was
her fault. “That’s going to cost money, Evangeline.”

She tried not to wince. “The
insurance—”

“
If the insurance doesn’t
cover it?”

She was royally screwed. She gripped
her coffee cup like a lifeline.

“
If I may,” Treat said,
facing her, “I have a surplus of drywall, and I can get paint at
cost. If your insurance won’t cover it, I can do it for virtually
nothing.”

Her father turned his glare on Treat.
“Why?”

Treat regarded him steadily. “Because
I like Eve.”

It was a simple statement, a
declaration, and a challenge all at once. She felt both thrilled
and apprehensive. Giving Treat a look, she took her father by the
arm and herded him toward the front door. “You said you had a
meeting. I’ll talk to the insurance and get an estimate and send
you a report, okay?”

“
Fine.” He glanced at his
watch and grimaced. “And call your mother. She’s been nagging me
about you.”

“
I love you, Dad.” She
reached on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

He grumbled incoherently, shooting
Treat one last warning look before rushing out of the
store.

She heaved a sigh of relief the moment
the door closed behind him. “Thank God.”

Treat walked up to her and speared his
fingers into her hair, massaging the base of her neck. “That
bad?”

“
He means well.” She moaned
and dropped her head against his chest. “That feels
good.”

They stood there in silence while he
eased her tension. He finally broke the silence by saying, “I feel
like this is my fault.”

She looked up at him. “Did you leave
the hose on?”

“
No.”

“
Then it’s not your fault.”
She frowned. “It’s not my fault either. I’ve never touched that
hose. Ever.”

Treat’s brow furrowed. “You think
someone did this purposefully?” he asked carefully.

She thought of Margaret and her frown
deepened. “It didn’t turn on by itself. I just can’t believe that
anyone would hate me enough to go this far.”

He lifted her chin and placed a soft
kiss on her lips. “Let me fix this.”

She blinked. “You’d do this for
me?”

“
Of course. If it affects
you, it affects me.”

“
But the cost—”

“
I think I can get the
materials in salvage, and I’ll do the labor so there’s no cost
there.”

“
Are you sure?”

“
Without a doubt.” He
kissed her again.

“
Thank you.” She hugged him
tight, inhaling his scent, which was both comforting and a turn on.
“Mocha for the road?”

“
Yes please.” He held her
hand as they walked to the counter.

She smiled. She hadn’t thought she
could have found anything redeeming about the day, but she’d been
wrong. At this moment, against all odds, even the future looked
bright.

Chapter Eighteen

The smell of old bar assailed Treat as
he walked into Durty Nelly’s: stale beer and French fries. He went
straight to the end of the counter where his friend Rick was
already nursing a Guinness.

Rick didn’t take his eyes off the TV.
“I thought you were going to stand me up.”

“
Long day.” He raised his
hand and gestured for a Guinness from the bartender.

“
Tell me about it. I’ve
been on this case where the husband wants proof that his wife is
fooling around with her Pilates trainer. I followed that woman all
over the city today.”

“
Did you catch
her?”

“
Not with the Pilates guy,
but I have great pics of her and her masseuse, who’s a hot
blonde.”

Hot blonde
made him think of Eve, and he wondered what she
was doing tonight. He shook his head. “A lot of guys would kill to
have your job.”

“
It definitely has perks.”
Rick lifted his beer. “So what’s her name?”

“
Excuse me?”

“
The chick who has you so
distracted. I haven’t seen you this way since Denise Michaels
flashed you at freshman orientation. You weren’t even like this
with Phoebe.”

Treat nodded his thanks to the
bartender as he accepted his pint. “How was I?”

“
Indifferent. Both when you
married her and when she left.” Rick shrugged. “You didn’t love her
though. That was obvious from the beginning.”

“
I didn’t, Freud?” he said
with a small smile.

“
No, you felt responsible
for her.” Rick leaned his back against the wall and stared at him.
“So tell me about this new woman.”

“
No wonder they pay you so
much for your services.”

He shrugged modestly. “I’ve got a
sense.”

“
Her name is Eve.
Evangeline,” he remembered her father calling her.

“
And she’s beautiful,” Rick
added dispassionately.

“
But that’s not what’s
striking about her. It’s the way she approaches life. She goes for
what she wants. She’s practical but whimsical at the same time.” He
thought of her shoes and smiled. “Passionate. Fun.
Grounded.”

“
And vulnerable?” Rick
asked in an overly offhand tone.

“
Yes, but not how you
think.”

“
No?”

“
No.”

Rick arched his eyebrows in disbelief.
“You know you have a pattern, right? You like to rescue women,
which would be fine if it didn’t involve needy women.”

“
Eve doesn’t need to be
rescued.” He frowned, thinking about the garden hose.

“
Your expression says
otherwise.” Rick grabbed a handful of nuts from the bar. “What’s
her problem?”

Treat thought about the garden hose
and frowned. “I think my mother’s sabotaging Eve’s coffee
shop.”

His friend stopped watching TV and
faced him. “I think I heard you say you think Margaret’s sabotaging
your girlfriend.”

Treat told Rick about the reviews, the
book party, the Health Department, and the garden hose incident. He
described his mom’s behavior, trying to be as objective as he could
be.

Rick listened like the private
investigator that he was. Finally he said, “Can you prove any of
this?”

“
I was going to ask you
that.” He took a long swig of his beer. “I feel guilty because I
think my mom is causing Eve these problems, but I don’t know how to
prove it one way or the other. Any ideas?”

“
Are there surveillance
cameras in Eve’s shop?”

“
Not that I know
of.”

Rick shook his head. “You’re out of
luck, unless you have fingerprints, or if she
confesses.”

Treat shook his head. That wasn’t
happening.

“
But how would your mom
know that leaving the water running would cause so much damage?”
his friend asked.

He winced. “I may have mentioned that
Eve’s place was in risk of flooding if there was excess water out
back.”

“
Shit.” He shook his head
again.

“
Yeah.” Treat lifted his
beer.

“
I could follow Margaret,”
Rick offered, “but if I catch her making out with her masseuse, I
may have to poke my eyes out.”

Chapter Nineteen

After another pint each, Treat said
goodbye to Rick and headed home. On the way to his truck, he gave
in to impulse and called Eve.

“
Hey, this is a surprise.”
Her voice drooped, like she was exhausted. Classical music trilled
in the background, and he heard what sounded like the steamer on an
espresso machine.

“
Are you still at work?” he
asked with a frown.

“
Yes, but I’m almost done.”
She sighed. “I’m doing a singles’ night this week and I have a lot
to do to get ready for it.”

He glanced at his watch as he climbed
into his truck. “It’s ten o’clock, Eve.”

“
I know. Everything took
longer than I thought it would.”

“
Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be
there in fifteen. Does that give you enough time to
finish?”

“
Yes, but—”

“
I’ll see you.” He hung up
before she could protest—and before he could come to his
senses.

What was he doing? He’d promised
himself he wouldn’t try to save her, and here he was, riding over
there like a white knight just because she sounded
tired.