Keeping Guard (7 page)

Finally, after wandering down each row of gifts, Kylie picked up a hand-thrown coffee mug with a picture of Yorktown painted on the front.

“I have to buy this.” She held it up with a grin. “Then every time I look at it, I'll be reminded of how grateful I am that you gave me a place to stay.”

Nate's heart panged at the proclamation. Just yesterday he'd been counting down the hours until she left. Now, for some reason, the thought of her leaving made him feel heavy.

He felt that way only because Kylie was an efficient cook, he told himself. And she required no pay for her work. Those were the things he'd miss. Not Kylie herself.

He had to admit that the day had been pleasant, though. Aside from her not-too-subtle questions about his experience in running a restaurant, he'd enjoyed her company. Her warm disposition had been a nice distraction from the obligations in his life.

“Ready?” Kylie appeared with a paper bag in hand.

“Let's go.”

When they stepped outside, a familiar face in the distance caught Nate's eye. The man, clad in mostly rags and an old military jacket, emerged from between two historic houses. He paused, his back hunched, and stared at them. Nate pulled Kylie closer to him.

She looked up at him with those wide, mesmerizing eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” He nodded in the distance. “That's Frank Watters. He's the town bum, for lack of a better term. He's generally harmless, but he can get a bit aggressive sometimes.”

Nate waved to him as they passed. Frank waved back, his gaze lingering on Kylie just a few minutes too long for Nate's comfort, though. The last thing Nate wanted was for Kylie to leave one danger behind in Kentucky, only to find another here.

M
onday and Tuesday passed quickly. Two large tour groups came in for lunch, which kept both Kylie and Nate busy in the kitchen. By the time Kylie got back to her apartment each night, she showered to get the smell of grease off and then fell into bed exhausted.

By Wednesday morning, despite her busyness, the fact that the sting was scheduled to happen Friday lingered in her mind and caused her heart to race. Would the setup work? What if it didn't, what if her stalker knew she wasn't the one doing the demonstration? What would Kylie do if this plan failed? She'd have to cross that bridge when she got there, she supposed. For now, she'd simply pray that everything went as planned and that the madman who'd made her life miserable would be caught and thrown in jail.

She checked herself in the mirror again, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, and then headed downstairs to begin another day. When she walked into the kitchen, chaos greeted her. Nate ran around, chopping vegetables one minute while talking frantically on the phone and running to the freezer to retrieve food the next.

Kylie braced herself for whatever news he would share. When he finally slammed the phone onto the counter, he turned to her with weary eyes. She wanted to touch his arm, try to calm him down. But she would be overstepping her
boundaries if she did that. Instead, she kept her distance, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What's going on?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Carrie called in sick. Says she has the flu. I've been trying to call Suzy, but she's not answering her phone—probably on purpose because my number is coming up on her caller ID. Melanie and Caitlyn both have classes all day today. Without any waitresses, we might as well close.”

Kylie's mind raced as she quickly tried to troubleshoot. “Why don't you get Harvey to come over and help? I bet he'd jump at the chance to have something to do.”

Nate's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Harvey? I cannot imagine Harvey as a waiter. That would be a disaster.”

“Not necessarily. He's good with people. He eats here all the time, so he knows the menu. We could help him with the rest.” Nate wasn't giving Harvey nearly enough credit.

Nate shook his head. “It's a terrible idea.”

Kylie shrugged, pushing away the irritation that rose when Nate quickly dismissed her suggestion. “We'll have to manage with just the two of us then. That or go with your idea and shut down for the day. What's it going to be?”

He remained silent and thought for a moment. “Wednesday's a slow day. We could do it, just you and me. Don't you think?”

“We could do it. It doesn't mean it will be a success, but we can give it our best shot.”

His face turned stony. “I know you don't approve of the way I operate, Kylie, but this is the way things are going to be. We're going to be the staff today and see how it goes.”

Kylie bit back the smart remark at the tip of her tongue. “I suggest you make up a new menu for the day then, something simpler. You might even want to think about doing that permanently, for that matter.”

He scowled again. “That's what people love about this
place—the selection. But I agree that a smaller menu today is a good idea. You get the kitchen prepped while I go type up a new menu. We open in an hour.” The next second, he disappeared into his office.

Kylie sighed and began preparing vegetables for salads and soups. Catering could be stressful enough, but working short-staffed at a restaurant would be a nightmare. Still, Nate ran the restaurant like he'd probably run his crew while in the Coast Guard. He acted like keeping his father's wish alive was a life-or-death situation. Even worse, Kylie feared if they both survived today that maybe Nate would consider making his staff even smaller in order to cut back on payroll costs.

Honestly, Nate seemed like two different people. One Nate ran the Revolutionary Grill, got stressed and looked like he carried the burden of the world. The other Nate she'd experienced on Sunday, and he was laid back, relaxed and capable of carrying on a decent conversation.

She shook her head and continued working when she heard a rap at the back door. It was Darlene, her arms full of pies and cakes. As soon as Kylie opened the door, the heavenly scents of cinnamon, sugar, chocolate and cream drifted up to her.

“Thanks, Darlene.” Kylie took a couple of pies from her as Darlene stepped inside.

She looked around the quiet kitchen. “Where is everyone?”

“We're short-staffed, to say the least. We're doing an abbreviated menu today.” Kylie held up the desserts. “Too bad we can't just do desserts.”

Darlene leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Can't you talk some sense into Nate? You can't run a restaurant with two people. Anyone knows that.”

“I've tried. It hasn't worked, though.”

The sounds of the first customers rolling in alerted Kylie. She quickly told Darlene thanks before scurrying to work.
Thankfully, the improvised lunch menu was easy and required short prep times. Nate acted as waiter and brought back orders, putting on a forced smile as he served customers.

At two, a lull allowed Kylie a moment to breathe. She and Nate both grabbed a quick bite to eat in the back, listening for the bell at the door to signal someone had come in. Her whining, aching feet quieted down for a moment as she sat down with her salad.

“It's not too bad with just the two of us here, is it?” Nate took a bite of his tuna salad sandwich.

Kylie wiped her lips. “It's not ideal, but we're making it through.”

“I'm glad you're here, Kylie. I don't know what I would do if you weren't.”

The sincerity in his voice surprised her. Finally, she nodded in acknowledgment. “Glad I can be here.”

The bell jangled. Nate started to stand, but Kylie motioned for him to stay put. “Let me.”

She wiped her mouth again, stood and started toward the front, grabbing some menus on her way. Two men, both dressed in business attire, stood at the entrance. She plastered on a friendly smile as she approached them.

“Welcome to the Revolutionary Grill. Will there just be two of you?”

An older man with silver hair nodded. “Yes, ma'am,” he said with a British accent. His gaze remained on her for a moment longer than Kylie expected. She pushed down her nerves, blaming them on paranoia, and led the men to a table by the window.

After handing them menus, she explained the specials. The man's gaze remained on her, almost as if he were studying her. Kylie's heart sped. Was this man her stalker? She wiped her palms, suddenly sweaty, against her jeans.

“Can I start you with something to drink?” Her mouth
felt dry as she mumbled the words and she noticed her hand shaking as her pen poised on the order pad.

“Just water, please,” the staring man said. His companion, a younger man—maybe an assistant—said the same.

Kylie nodded and hurried back into the kitchen. Nate was cleaning up their lunch, a satisfied grin on his face. The grin disappeared when he looked up.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded and grabbed two glasses. Her hands trembled as she poured water into the glasses. “I'm fine.”

Nate approached her and his hands covered hers. She stopped pouring and looked up at him. “You're not fine. What's wrong?”

She offered a half-hearted laugh, one that wasn't quite believable even to her own ears. “I'm just being paranoid. One of the customers out there…it's just the way he keeps looking at me.” She shook her head. “I'm probably reading too much into things.”

He took the water from her hands and with a steady gaze said, “Let me serve these.”

Kylie didn't argue as he hurried into the dining room. She leaned with her palms against the counter, trying to catch her breath.

Was this it? Had her stalker found her again?

 

Nate forced a tight smile as he approached the two men seated by the window. He placed their water on the table, trying to appear casual as he scoped them out. “Two waters. Do you gentlemen need more time to look at the menu, or are you ready to order?”

“Anything you'd recommend?” The older man leaned back in the booth, his arm draped against the back of the bench. Nate noted his crisp suit and expensive watch.

Nate shifted his weight. “The crab soup is always popular.”

The man fixed his gaze on Nate. “Is the Revolutionary Grill your restaurant?”

“It is.”

His gaze drifted around the dining area. “I like the Colonial theme.”

“My dad opened the place. I took over for him after he died.”

The man straightened, brushing off the cuffs of his dress shirt. Then he narrowed his eyes and leaned toward Nate. “Do you mind if I ask the name of the waitress who was just out here?”

Nate's muscles tensed. “I'm not sure that's a good idea. Why are you asking?”

The man seemed to sense Nate's apprehension and let out a quick laugh, raising a hand as if urging Nate to slow down his rushing thoughts. “I'm sorry. I realize how I must have come across. It's just that she looks like someone who hosts a cooking show I'm interested in.”

Nate forced himself to remain calm. “Why would you be interested in a cooking show?”

The man laughed again and shook his head, looking at his companion as if the moment were hilarious. “I'm really botching this.” The man stood and extended his hand. “I'm Arnold Stephens, one of the producers on Cuisine TV. We've been pursuing a small cooking show in Kentucky called
Kylie's Kitchen
, trying to convince them to take the show national on our network. Your waitress looks just like the host from the show. Forgive me for the way I came across.”

Nate relaxed some, but still wasn't convinced about the sincerity of this man. The best criminals seemed trustworthy and had clever excuses for their actions. Nate wouldn't acknowledge that the man's hunch was correct. Instead, he poised with his pen on the order pad.

“Sounds like you have an interesting job. I'll have to pass that message on to my waitress. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to
look like someone famous.” Nate cleared his throat and raised his notepad. “Can I take your order?”

Arnold snapped his menu shut and handed it to Nate. “I think I will try the crab soup.”

His friend said he would have the same.

Back in the kitchen, Kylie still leaned against the counter, looking like she'd seen a ghost. Her skin was white, her hands trembled, her breathing shallow. Her eyes fixated on Nate, waiting for his impression.

He leaned on the counter across from her. “He says he's from Cuisine TV.”

“Cuisine TV?”

“Yeah. Arnold someone? Says he's been trying to talk you into going national with your show.”

Kylie's shoulders slumped and her head dropped back as she looked at the ceiling in what appeared to be relief…or was it disbelief? “Arnold Stephens?”

“You've heard of him?” Nate finally asked.

Kylie nodded and rubbed the space between her eyes. “My producer at our local network has been talking to him for the past few months. Mr. Stephens's crew has come out to the set a couple of times, even. That could explain why he looks a little familiar to me.” Her gaze fixated in the distance. “Did he say why he was here? He's not looking for me, is he? How would he know I'm here? He couldn't know I was here.”

Nate shook his head. “I didn't get the impression he was looking for you, just that he'd stumbled upon you. I'm not sure, though. You feel pretty confident that he's not your stalker?”

Kylie's pensive expression returned. “He lives in New York and produces a daily cooking show. I'd have a hard time believing it could be him.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “Should I go say something?”

“That depends. Do you want your show to go national?”

“I think so. I don't know.”

“If you go talk to him, he's going to want to know why you're waitressing at a restaurant here in Yorktown. What would you tell him?”

She shook her head as if cold water had just been thrown at her. “Of course. You're right. I'll just get the soup ready and let you serve them. There are more important things right now than my show. First, I've got to put a nightmare to rest behind bars.”

Nate could see she was frazzled and tried to offer a reassuring smile. “Okay, two bowls of crab soup.”

“Got it.” She grabbed two bowls and ladled the creamy soup into their depths. She placed them on a tray and handed them to Nate.

Nate tried to keep a cool head as he stepped back into the dining area. He couldn't let down his guard yet. It seemed too big a coincidence that the Cuisine TV producer just happened to show up at his restaurant while Kylie was here. He'd be cautious.

“Here we go. Two bowls of my dad's famous crab soup and some freshly baked bread.” Nate set the food on the table. He brought the tray to his side and looked at the men. “Can I get you anything else?”

“This smells delicious. I think we'll be fine,” Arnold answered.

Nate paused before walking away. “If you don't mind me asking, what brings you to Yorktown? To the Revolutionary Grill for that matter?”

“I'm always scouting out new restaurants for different shows at the network. This week, I'm hitting the Historic Tri angle, as I believe you locals call it. Yorktown, Jamestown and Williamsburg.”

“I'm honored you chose to come here.”

“Your place caught my eye right away. It's got a great location with the river out front, and I like the Colonial theme.”
He held up a spoonful of soup. “Now I'm ready to try your food.”

Nate nodded toward him. “I'll let you do that. I'll be back in a few minutes to see if you need anything else.”

Nate walked away, feeling in his gut that this guy knew more than he'd let on.