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Authors: Olivia Reid

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BOOK: It's Not About You
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I really didn't care how damn pretty he was. Not at that moment. I was tired. My back ached and my dawgs was a bark'n! I needed a bath and real food! I was just glad Flower was opening in the morning. I wanted to sleep in.
 

"I'll take it. All of it." He pointed to the box.

I rang it all up and after tax, his bill was thirty-two dollars and seven cents. He gave me the biggest grin and it looked adorable on his face. I ran his card, it cleared and I handed it back to him just as he stuffed a twenty in the tip jar. "Oh… uh uh. No, Mr. Oliver—"
 

"No. It's okay." He held up his hand and took the box. Debbie had his coffee ready and he took it with his free hand. "It's my pleasure." Mr. Oliver turned and headed to the door which gave me a great shot of his butt.
 

Nice.
 

He turned and backed the door open and held up his coffee. "You have a good night, Grace."
 

When he was gone I opened the register and started counting the money. I'd done it twice when I realized Debbie was staring at me. I looked over at her. "What?"
 

"Garnish. I've never been garnish before."
 

I decided at that minute she had inhaled too many of the bolder coffee fumes. Grows hair in your nose. "Debbie—let's get finished and go home."
 

"You didn't see that, did you?"
 

"See what?"
 

"That guy! Pretty Eyes has been coming in here for like a year. George always flirts with him—swears his gaydar says straight—and no one ever sees him with a girl. Do you know him?"
 

"Ah," I said as I scribbled down the day's take-in after tallying three times, then slipped it into the deposit bag. I zipped it closed. "We met in line before I was hired. Called me an older woman."
 

"Maybe that's it." Debbie snapped her fingers. "Maybe he likes older women."
 

I laughed. Actually I snorted. It was a nice dream, but that kind of stuff only comes true in soap operas. But here in reality land—no. And given my profile in the polished chrome of the coffee makers…it didn't happen to me.
 

Who ever invented phones should die.
 

I just wanted to get that out there. Really. Because when they ring at seven 'effing thirty in the morning, all I want to do is choke the life out of the person using it.
 

So began my Tuesday morning with a call on my one to ten shift. I picked the phone up and looked at the face. With a groan I answered it. "Yeah?"
 

"Grace?" George sounded a bit irritated. "Why isn't the store open?"
 

Okay that woke me up. I sat up in bed. "I don't know—is Sam not there?"
 

"No. And I can't get her on the phone either."
 

"Do you have your key?"
 

"Yes." He snapped a bit and I just chalked it up to him being mad. "I knew this was going to happen…"
 

Well, I'm glad someone did. "George, I'll
 
be there soon as I can. And keep trying to reach Sam." I disconnected and immediately dialed Sam's number. It went straight to voice mail. That was never a good sign because that meant it was either off or the battery was dead.
 

After a quick shower to wake up, I called the local precinct and asked for Lt. Kevin Taylor .
 

"You mean Sergeant Taylor?"
 

Sergeant? Wow. Geez. Moving up in the world. "Yeah. Is he in?"
 

"Just a moment. I need to tell him who's calling."
 

"Grace Murphy."
 

I counted to six before he picked up. "Grace? What is it?" He knew if I called him at work it was because of a problem.
 

"It's Samantha Browning. Her boyfriend's been beating her up again. Coming to work with bruises, and she mentioned last night how he hated having to wait on her."
 

"Grace you know I can't—"
 

"Kevin, she's not at work. She was supposed to open up the coffee shop this morning and she's a no show. You know how much she loves that place."
 

There was a pause. "Grace, how come you know this? Did George call you instead of me?"
 

Oh. That's right. Kevin didn't know I had a job. I never did make it over to the station to fill out that order—which was another thing I needed to do. "I'm managing the
Trade In Beans
location by my house. Anyway," I continued before he could say anything. "I'm heading over to Sam's house—"
 

"Grace, don't. Not if it is Eddie beating up on her."
 

"She's only a few blocks away. I just took a shower. Meet me there?"
 

"This is so not regular, Grace. But I'll be there. Just don't go in before then, understand?"
 

By the time I was dressed ten minutes had gone by. I left Kyle a note—he was up and working out—and headed to Sam's.
 

I knew Sam before I started working at
Trade In Beans
. She was Tanae's age and they'd gone to school together. Sort of. That is when Sam was in school. Her dad was pretty much out of the picture and her mother had terminal cancer. So Sam worked and lived to take care of her younger sister and visited her mother regularly.
 

What I didn't know was how bad it really was until I pulled up just as Kevin did. The yard was nearly bald with little to no grass in front. And what there was looked more like weeds than anything else. The half-started flower beds were overgrown with more of that weird looking weed and the curtains were all closed.
 

Kevin got out of his car and held up a hand. I was used to seeing him in his uniform, but he was dressed in a suit and the car was his own. He looked good. But Kevin had always looked good, from the first day we met when I was still married. The Prick always accused me of having an affair, and the truth was I never did. But if I was ever going to—it would've been with Lt. Kevin Taylor.
 

He held up a hand which was an indication for me to hang back. He went up the porch steps and knocked. "Hey Sam? You home? It's Detective Kevin Taylor."
 

Detective?
 

Kevin made detective?!
 

Well damn…I didn't even know that. I knew he'd been studying to take the exams and he was close to passing, but no one told me he'd actually pulled it off. Well, Detective Hottie!
 

When no one answered he pulled a radio from his belt and said something into it. Then he moved around the back of the house. He was gone for a while and I stood outside of my car like an idiot because I wasn't leaving till I knew what was up with Sam.
 

He came back around with the radio to his ear. He motioned me to come and the two of us wadded into knee high grass. There might not any in the front but the back was choking in it. Sam lay on the back porch, on her front.
 

"I just radioed an ambulance. She's beat up, just like you said. And I'm going to put out an APB on her boyfriend. You got a last name? All I ever knew was Eddie."
 

"No." I sat on the porch beside her and rubbed her back with my hand. "But Debbie might. Or Flower. The girls I work with."
 

"Good then get them to come to the station if you can and I can get more information." He sighed. "Looks like he beat her and then left her out here to sleep last night. Good thing it was a warmer night than usual."
 

The idea that someone could be this cruel to another human being was beyond me. I mean…really? She's dating that big of a dick?
 

"You look good, Grace."
 

That was a comment out of left field. An appreciated comment and I'll take all I can get. But left field. I gave him my best shy smile. "Uh…thanks? You look good yourself. And detective?"
 

He nodded and showed me his gold badge. "Two months ago. Had a little party." He paused. "I didn't think you'd come so I didn't invite you."
 

"Obviously." The insult kinda hurt. "Why not?"
 

"Well you know—the way you were always worried about Burt and him showing up—"
 

"I'm divorced, Kevin."

That statement got a seriously strange reaction. Kevin sort of smiled and frowned at the same time. I heard a distant siren.
 

"Wow. So…he actually signed the papers."
 

I made a rude noise. "Not that easy."
 

"Oh. What'd he do?"
 

The ambulance arrived at the front. Kevin ran around the house and directed them to the back. I stood with him as the EMTs did their thing. I knew one of them. Zach Kingston, the father of one of Tanae's school friends. We nodded to each other but nothing beyond that. He was working and I didn't want to interfere.
 

"You going to look for her boyfriend?"
 

"Not yet. We don't know for sure he did this. And if he did, she has to press charges."
 

My heart sank. Sam wasn't going to do that. That much I knew. She was going to keep letting him hit her until he killed her.
 

Kevin was looking at me. "I'm sorry Grace. But that's the law. And….I work homicide now."
 

I was learning all kinds of new things about this man I tried to date. "Damn Kevin. A lot happened since I last talked to you."
 

"Yeah. I'd say that was true for both of us."
 

I watched as they loaded Sam on a stretcher. They had a brace on her neck and had her wrapped in a warm blanket. I texted George with what I knew and asked him if he needed me to come in.
 

"Are you seeing anyone?"
 

I'd just sent the text when he asked me that. Luckily I was looking down at my phone so he couldn't see my look of OMG. I schooled my face into something a little less panicky and looked up at him. "No time right now. I just started at the coffee shop and I promised George I'd put everything into getting it running smooth."
 

I couldn't read the half smile on his face. And it made me just a little bit nervous. "So…you think if I stopped by for a coffee soon, you could make it for me?"
 

Now I laughed. "Oh. No. Kevin—I haven't mastered the machine yet. I'm just managing. But I can serve a killer scone." Thinking of scones reminded me of pretty blue eyes. Michael Oliver. That youthful face, straight white teeth, damn those eyes.
 

Was it so bad of me to be looking at a handsome age appropriate prospect and yet thinking of guy who was probably young enough to be my grandson?
 

I think I just reached a whole new level of bad talk show topics.
 

Zach came over and he and Kevin stepped away. They spoke in low voices and my phone buzzed. I looked at the
 
message.
 

If you can come in and handle morning shift with Flower, I'd appreciate it. I can cut you time and a half. Just keep me posted about Sam.
 

I tucked the phone back into my back pocket and waved at the two of them. "Zach—can you keep me up to date? Gotta go to work!"
 

Zach nodded. "Will do, Grace."
 

Kevin nodded but kept talking to Zach.
 

I jogged around from the back of the house and turned in the direction of my house, all the while thinking of scones and blue eyes.
 

I got hit with a bazillion questions when I walked into the shop. I took everyone in a corner, including George, and told them all I knew. Everyone was mad and George said if the jerk came into any of his stores, he wasn't gonna get served at all.
 

I hated to tell this nice man that I doubted Sam's boyfriend drank fancy coffee. He probably started his day with Jack Daniels and a smoke, given the general look of the back of Sam's house.
 

BOOK: It's Not About You
6.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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