Authors: Mariah Stewart
“I gotta find some better material,” Jason muttered. “So where are the boxes you need moved?”
“In Jesse’s office, but you don’t have to …” Too late. Jason was out the door, down the hall, and into Jesse’s office.
“These on the floor?” he called back to her.
“Yes. The ones …”
“Where do you want them?” He was carrying them, one on top of the other.
“In here.” She showed him into the new file room. “Anyplace is fine. Thank you.”
“Two more. Be right back.”
She liked the way he moved, all easy saunter, like he had all night.
“This should do it.” He returned with the remaining boxes and put them down on the floor next to the others.
“Thank you so much. I’d been reduced to pushing them all the way from the front of the office and it was taking me forever.” She leaned back against the filing cabinet. “You’ve saved me about a half hour, not to mention my back and my arms.”
He took two steps toward her, took her hands and drew them upward until they rested on his neck, then
lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. As kissers went, she thought, Jason was an A-plus. The tickle she felt whenever he got too close was more like an electric charge that went straight to her gut. By the time she caught her breath, he’d eased away from her, but her face still felt the brush of his five o’clock shadow and her heart was still racing.
“How ’bout I help you lock up?” His hands had slid to her waist as if they belonged there.
“You don’t have to …”
“It’s dark, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around.”
He planted one soft kiss on her forehead, then took her by the hand. On their way out of the room, Sophie turned off the light.
“I just have Jesse’s room and the kitchen to close up,” she said.
“I’ll take care of the kitchen.”
He let go of her hand and walked to the back of the hall while she went to the front. She restacked a pile she’d knocked over earlier, picked up three files she’d decided she’d need to read through before acting on the most recent correspondence, and swung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. Then she snapped off the office light, as well as the overhead in the reception area, and took the key from her bag.
“Got everything?” Jason asked, and she nodded.
She locked the door behind them and he followed her to her car, opening the door for her so she could drop the files on the backseat.
“Thanks again for everything,” Sophie said. “For dinner, for helping move stuff …”
“Any time.” He brushed a strand of hair back from
her face. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do. I usually knock off work around six thirty or seven.”
“Will do.” She got into her car and he closed the door. “I’ll let you know when I get my kitchen stuff unpacked so I can show off my skills. I promise you’ll be knocked out.”
He leaned in through the car window and kissed her on the lips. “I already am.”
“Did you have a pizza delivered last night?” was the first thing Violet asked when she came into the office on Tuesday morning.
“Sort of.” Sophie looked up from the file she was reading. “Jason stopped by on his way home from picking one up and he offered to share it with me.”
“That was nice of him.” Violet stood in the doorway for a moment.
Sophie assumed she was waiting for her to say something, so she did. “Yes, very nice.”
“He’s a nice boy,” Violet added.
Was there any point in reminding Violet that Jason was thirtysomething and no longer qualified for boy status? Probably not. Besides, everything was relative.
“Yes, he is. Very nice.”
“I know your grandfather is very fond of him, too,” Violet persisted.
“I assumed. Jason’s doing a lot of work at Pop’s.”
“And doing quite a fine job. Your grandfather is very pleased.”
“Good. I want him to be happy.” Sophie went into
Jesse’s office and surveyed the floor. She selected a stack of case files at random and carried them to her office. The light in her small room in the back was better, she told herself, softer, and the chair was more comfortable. Then, too, there was the matter of Jesse’s desk being too cluttered to spread out another file.
She read through the case, found the information she was looking for, made the calls Jesse had wanted her to make, then jotted down a few notes for the file. She worked her way through the stack, then took a five-minute break to take a call from Cameron.
“Hey, Ellie tells me you’re buying the old Walsh place. Cool.”
“It
is
pretty cool.” Sophie smiled. “We go to settlement one week from today.”
“And you think it might need some work?”
“I know it does. It’s just a matter of how much and what it will cost. I was hoping you could help me out on both counts.”
“Absolutely. When can we get in to take a look?”
“At your earliest convenience. I have a key,” she explained.
“How about tomorrow afternoon around four?”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you there. You know where it is, right?”
“Sure. Everyone knows Walsh’s.”
Sophie tapped her pen on the blotter after they ended the call, thinking she’d have to come up with a name for the place, and soon. She couldn’t keep calling it “the old Walsh’s” or “the restaurant.”
At one, she ate the lunch she’d brought from home, changed her clothes, and resumed the task of sorting through files and putting closed cases in the new file
room. Violet left at five, and at five thirty, she started to glance out the front window every fifteen minutes. It wasn’t until seven that she admitted she’d been watching for Jason, and it took her another twenty minutes to own up to the fact that she’d been hoping he’d stop in. His help aside—if not for him, she’d probably be in traction from lugging all those heavy files from one end of the office to the other—she found that the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. She liked the fact that he was thoughtful of not only her, but her grandfather and his nephew as well. That family meant a lot to him. That he made her smile, made her laugh … and oh, yes, made her heart race and her knees weak. Made her want more when he kissed her.
Funny, she thought, as she prepared to close the office for the night, but when she broke up with Christopher, the last thing she wanted was another relationship. He’d burned her so badly, she’d thought it would be forever before she’d be able to trust anyone again—before she’d even
want
to trust another man again, before she’d want another man to touch her. And yet here she was, a mere three months later, watching the street and watching the time, disappointed that Jason hadn’t stopped in again tonight. Not that he was obligated to, of course, but still … it would have been nice to see him again tonight.
She gathered her things and went through the office, turning off the lights.
Maybe tomorrow night
, she thought as she locked the front door.
A girl could hope.
Jason stood at the take-out counter of the new Thai restaurant and scanned the menu for what seemed
like the fiftieth time. Thai Gardens was a new place, located on the highway just outside of town, but a woman he’d chatted with at Walt’s last Friday night mentioned that the food was really good there. At the time, he doubted she’d talked it up so that he could buy dinner for someone else, since she’d clearly been wrangling for a dinner date, but the obvious type had never interested him. Actually, Jason had no type. He’d dated women of different sizes and shapes and hair coloring, athletic women and couch potatoes, smart women and women who were … well, endowed in other ways.
There were times when he almost wished he did have a type: it might have made it easier to know what he was looking for. Up until recently, he hadn’t really been aware that he was looking. But it occurred to him that he was over thirty, a small business owner—and now a property owner—so he’d crossed a lot off his “to do” list, and maybe it just followed that meeting the right woman should be next.
But lately, it seemed he’d been interested in only one woman, and he wasn’t sure how to go about pursuing her. For one thing, she was his friend’s younger sister, and he’d learned back in high school that dating a friend’s little sister could have repercussions. For another, Jason and the grandfather of the lady in question had a relationship that he’d hate to see ruined if, for example, he was dating the granddaughter and things turned out badly. Still, there really wasn’t anyone else who’d caught his eye the way Sophie Enright had, and while he wasn’t much of a gambler, there was something about her that made him believe it was worth a try.
So here he stood, trying to decide between the Panang Curry, the Pad Thai, and the Kao Pad Saparod. The last sounded the most exotic—chicken with jasmine rice stir-fried with pineapple—but he didn’t know Sophie well enough to know if it would appeal to her. It sounded good, though, so he ordered it and the Pad Thai, which he’d had once before and liked. He took a seat and waited for the food to be prepared, and twenty-five minutes later, he walked out with a brown bag of aromatic goodies in the crook of his arm.
He drove into town and headed straight for the office on the corner of Old St. Mary’s Church Road. He came to a stop in front of the building, his heart sinking when he realized the office was dark. He got out of his car and checked around the side, just in case Sophie was working in her office toward the back, but there were no lights on. He could have kicked himself for having wasted so much time scrutinizing the menu and deliberating—his mother would have said “dillydallying”—over what to order. He walked back to his truck and thought about driving past Sophie’s house, but he wondered if that might seem too much like stalking.
Either way, he’d struck out. He got back into the cab of the pickup and drove home, hoping he liked what he bought, because it looked like he’d be eating Thai for the rest of the week.
Sophie could barely contain herself on Wednesday morning, knowing that she’d be meeting with Cam and Ellie to go through the restaurant that afternoon.
She tried to play down her excitement when she mentioned it to Violet, who was fixing her morning tea in the kitchen.
“Oh, by the way,” Sophie said with all the nonchalance she could muster, “Cameron is looking at the building this afternoon. You know, checking it out to see what repairs it needs.”
“That’s nice, dear.” Violet dunked a tea bag into a cup of steaming water.
“So I guess we should know pretty soon how much it’s going to cost to fix up.”
“He’d be the one to talk to about that.” Violet nodded. “Have you seen the box of stevia that I brought in last week? I thought I put it in this cabinet.”
“Next one over.” Sophie tried again to engage Violet, hoping she’d show some enthusiasm. “So I guess I’ll bring in Cam’s estimate as soon as I get it, so we can go over it together and you can decide what you want to invest.”
“You’ll make the decisions on what you need for the renovations and for your start-up costs, and that’s what I’ll invest. It’s as simple as that.” She looked up from her cup, glared at Sophie in the way only Violet could, and added, “Please keep in mind the silent part of ‘silent investor.’ ”
“Got it.” Sophie nodded and took her coffee into her office.
Sophie read the correspondence on the first file, then started reading through the case itself, but she was having a hard time concentrating. She was excited about the walk-through this afternoon and wished there were someone she could talk to who shared her enthusiasm.
That person obviously wasn’t Violet, who had felt inclined to remind her that any interest she might have was strictly financial. And, of course, silent.
Forcing herself to focus, Sophie somehow managed to put all thoughts of her new venture aside while she read, made notes, and fielded phone calls, but by two thirty, she’d had enough. She changed into work clothes and turned off her office lights.
“Violet, I’m going to head over to River Road and get the place opened up as much as I can for Cameron.”
“I’ll close up if you’re not back by five or so,” Violet told her without looking up from her computer screen.
Sophie was almost out the door when Violet called to her.