The Trouble With Scarecrows (The Trouble With Men Book 2) (12 page)

Chapter 20

Neal assigned Marvin, the plumber, to Brenda’s shower first. Marvin spent the entire day working, banging, and destroying the bathroom.

Brenda spent the day cleaning out her apartment. She packed everything into trash bags and threw them out in the hall for Neal to take down to the Salvation Army donation center.

Neal spent the day overseeing the plumber, hauling large loads of stuff to his truck and then to the Salvation Army, and scheduling the drywall guys, who wouldn’t be there until Friday, and trying to keep Brenda from confronting Zadora.

The situation, especially now, was tricky, and he needed time to think things through. He knew he had to talk to Zadora soon, but it was going to be difficult because he felt like a traitor, like he’d switched sides. There had to be a way that they could all coexist. He just hadn’t thought of it yet.

All he could do was hope Brenda would keep her word that she would hold off as he headed off to work. But the image of Brenda bursting into Zadora’s apartment and kicking her out kept entering his mind. He finally gave in to his anxiety and texted Zadora with a quick ‘Is everything okay? We will talk soon.” And she’d responded “Fine, OK.”

After work, he found Brenda still working in the apartment, vacuuming. Neal didn’t have much trouble persuading her to stay with him again, her apartment was now a construction zone. But they were both exhausted and fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

The next morning, Neal woke and quietly left Brenda asleep. By the time she came stumbling into the kitchen, searching for coffee, he had food ready and packed into a cooler. “I don’t have money to take you on a proper date,” Neal said, “but I would like to show you my favorite spot in the park. I packed us a lunch.”

She stared at him, all sexy in her pink nighty, and scratched her head. “Picnic? You want to take me on a picnic?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“Are we going eat outside in a park?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Hermann Park.”

“That’s a picnic. Wait, what about the house?”

He walked up to her and put his arms around her, the silkiness of her gown gliding coolly across his chest. “It will be here when we get back. I want to spend some time with you. I want to get to know you.”

She stepped up on her tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re so cute. How can someone so big and brawny be such a romantic?”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I just want to show you my spot, and I’m hungry.”

She nodded and broke free. “You know what? That actually sounds wonderful. I’ll go change and meet you outside in thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes? What are you going to do?”

She shook her head at him. “A romantic that has no clue about women.”

He shrugged.

“I have to go get dressed before I go out in public.”

He pointed to himself. “Just put on some shorts and flip-flops.”

“Thirty minutes, Neal. I’ll be ready in thirty minutes. And I hope you packed some coffee.”

Thirty minutes later, Neal leaned on his truck in front of the multiplex. Brenda stepped outside, fresh and pretty in a light strappy dress and sandals. The wind breezed back her hair. Her face was bright with color on her lips, and little earrings sparkled in the sun. Sunglasses sat on top of her head.

“I’m not riding in there,” she said, and kept walking past the truck down the sidewalk to the side of the house toward where her car was parked.

“Hey,” Neal called after her, “I’ve already got the ice chest in the back. My picnic, my truck.”

She stopped and stood with her back to him, and her shoulders went up and down in a huff. But then she turned around, a smile on her face. “Fine, but your seats better not have grease all over them.”

“Why would they have grease on them?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for her. “I assure you, Your Highness, I take care of this truck better than most men take care of their women.”

“Is that so?” she asked, accepting his hand as she climbed inside. “Should I be jealous?”

He slammed the door shut, because even though it was clean, it still had a few hiccups. “I said most men,” he said through the half-rolled down window and gave her a wink. He loved the way she responded with a somewhat shy smile and flirty eyes.

He jumped in, started the truck, and they were on their way. Neal glanced over at Brenda every once in a while and felt happy and content. The last couple of days had been awesome, but he had these feelings for Brenda that he tried not to be afraid of. She was like an alien from a different planet. One that she would be going back to soon. One that he was sure he didn’t fit into. But at the moment, it felt right. It was nice having her there beside him in his truck, casual but still with enough tension to make it exciting. He had to work to be with her; that was certain. And he was sure she was worth it.

“Why do I feel so comfortable around you?” she said suddenly. “You make me feel like I can be myself.”

“Because you can.”

“I’m so used to having to fill in the awkward silences, or they don’t stop asking me questions, or asking if I’m okay.”

“I figured if you’re not, you would tell me.”

“Well, that’s the truth.”

Neal heard what sounded like distant thunder. He’d been afraid it would be too hot and humid to eat outside, but now this would be worse. He glanced over to Brenda, who stared out the side window and didn’t seem to have heard anything, so he hoped it was nothing.

He found a spot by a parking meter and parked. After they got out, he fed the meter, then he lugged the ice chest, and handed the blanket to Brenda to carry. They headed toward the Houston Zoo. Since it was a weekday, there weren’t gobs of people, just a nice scattering of families.

They crossed the parking lot to the pond where the ducks swam, and he spread the blanket on the ground. Brenda sat down on her knees, and Neal opened the ice chest.

“It looks like rain,” she said, leaning back and looking up at the overcast sky.

“I don’t have coffee, but I do have mimosas.” He popped open the bottle of sparkling wine, not letting Brenda see the brand, and set it back in the ice chest while he poured the orange juice into red cups. He then topped it with the wine. He handed one to Brenda.

A breeze broke the heat for a second, but he ignored it as held out his cup to her. “To us.”

“To us. A couple of scared crows who finally found some nerve.”

Neal leaned over and kissed her. “I’ll drink to that.” He took a drink, not taking his eyes away from Brenda’s stare.

Brenda took a sip and hummed. “What else do you have in your bag of tricks?”

At that moment, huge drops of rain plopped inside Neal’s cup. “Shit.”

“That doesn’t sound very appetizing,” Brenda teased as she raised her hands over her head, trying to shield the rain.

“Come on,” he said, pouring out his drink and grabbing the ice chest.

A few seconds later, they were sprinting back to the truck. Brenda had the blanket over her head. By the time they were inside the truck, they were both pretty wet, especially Neal.

Brenda laughed and wiped Neal with the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” Neal said, shaking his head. “This did not turn out the way it was supposed to.”

“It’s fine.” She removed a hair tie from around her wrist and pulled all her hair back, revealing a pleasant smile on her makeup-smeared face.

She wasn’t all disgusted that she’d gotten a little wet. He felt kind of bad, though, for being surprised at her reaction.

“Okay,” he said, the rain feeling less of an enemy now and kind of soothing as it drummed on the truck.

Brenda pulled down the visor and examined herself in the mirror, using the blanket now to touch up her face. “I do appreciate this, but I have an idea. I promise, I’m not trying to one-up you.” She shut the visor and snuggled in the blanket. “I want to treat you to lunch. And before you say anything, hear me out. I have this friend . . . okay a business acquaintance, who has given me an open invitation to dine at his restaurant’s kitchen table whenever I want.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“That was easy.”

“You owe me one,” he said, keeping the excitement of the idea inside. He leaned over and kissed her before starting the truck. “But I’m not dressed for one of your fancy restaurants.”

“Don’t worry. Your attire is perfect.”

Chapter 21

“Are you sure this is it?” Neal asked, eyeing a rather old house with the sign in front that read ANTONIO’S KITCHEN.

“Yeah, why?”

“It doesn’t look . . . fancy.”

“It doesn’t have to be expensive to be spectacular food. Good food is good food.”

“Okay.” He stared at her, his eyes dancing.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought you said you were hungry.” She pushed hard on the door, opening it and climbed out.

Neal was by her side a few seconds later, shutting her door and putting his arm over her shoulder.

Brenda held her breath. In that instant, she felt like his girl. Like she belonged to Neal. And he would keep her safe.
Don’t mess with me, because I’m his girl, and he’ll kick your ass.
It brought back memories of being in high school and seeing the couples walk around in their ‘we’re a couple’ arm wrap, hands in back pockets. It had been a long time since she’d thought about how she’d envied those girls and wished she had a guy who was proud to show the world that she was his.

She put her arm around his waist and they teased and laughed all the way to the door. Neal opened the door, they went inside and were greeted by a friendly face.

“Brenda!” Antonio’s wife, whose name Brenda tried but couldn’t recall, cried. She hugged her and kissed her on the cheek like she was a long-lost friend. “It’s so good to see you. Who is your friend?”

“This is Neal.”

“Neal,” the woman said and wrapped her arms around him. After she pulled away, she yelled, “Antonio!” and walked away, leaving them standing by the front door.

They shrugged their shoulders at one another and then a minute later, Antonio appeared with open arms, giving Brenda the same greeting as his wife had and extending a hand to Neal.

“I was wondering if I could take you up on your invitation.” Brenda asked, now wondering if she should have called first. “You’d said I—”

“I remember! I’m not that old,” Antonio said, even though he looked very much like the Italian grandfather he probably was. “The best seat in the house, coming up!”

They followed him through the modest, cozy restaurant to a busy kitchen, which was alive with lunchtime clatter and the aroma of bread, fresh tomato sauce, and herbs. He told them to sit at a little round table with two chairs. Antonio’s wife got to work setting it up with a cloth, wineglasses, plates, and silverware.

Antonio followed with a bottle of wine, which he poured into their glasses. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “I was beginning to think I’d never have the chance to repay you.” He looked at Neal. “You have yourself quite the woman. Beautiful! Elegant! And very generous.”

Neal’s eyebrow went up. “Huh?”

His confusion didn’t surprise Brenda, but still made her feel a little sad. But coming here reminded her that she wasn’t as horrible as she might come across sometimes, that she had become the woman her dad would be proud of. There were people in the world who actually used the word ‘generous’ to describe her. And she didn’t feel she had been all that generous. She’d worked Antonio’s case against a landowner pro bono. It wasn’t like it had taken that much time.

“And no menus today, okay? I have something special.”

After Antonio left the table, Neal asked, “What was all that about?”

“I tip really well.”

“Right,” Neal said, holding out his drink for a toast. “I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know you, Brenda Fisher.”

She smiled, tapped his glass, and took a sip. “And I want to know about you. Where did you get your love for cooking? Forgive me, but you don’t seem the type.”

He set his glass down and all of a sudden, his relaxed face hardened. “My mom.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just try not to think about her.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up an uncomfortable subject, but you can talk to me . . . if you want, but I understand if you’d rather not.”

His eyes kind of glassed over as his gaze slowly shifted from her to around the kitchen. He inhaled deeply and then said, “When I was in college, she called me home, made me leave to help my dad. I did, and for years, I thought I was running his company. Mom did the books, and she’s my mom so of course I trusted her. You know, at first I thought it was a lost cause. I mean, anyone with a truck and a sign can have a roofing company, but for some reason my dad’s company thrived.”

At that moment, a server came by and set a couple of salads with a light vinaigrette in front of them. Brenda picked up her fork and dug into her salad. “But that’s good, right?”

“He died, and after the funeral and everything had settled down a bit, I was ready to take over what I thought was my inheritance. My mom was still in deep grief when I decided to open the doors back up and start running the company as my own, and I took over the books. That’s when I found out that my mom had been carrying the company for I don’t know how long.”

“What do you mean?”

“The company had been in the red for years. It didn’t make any money. My mom, who had a secret trust fund, had been pouring money into the company and pretending it was successful.”

“Well, that’s kind of nice, yet naughty.”

Neal was frowning, and she wasn’t sure he’d even heard her. He said, “I’ve thought about it all for a long time. And each time I think about it, I go round and round with that, whether it was for dad, if she loved him so much she didn’t want him to seem like a failure. Or if it was to keep control, to keep him under her thumb. And, this is what really gets me, she could have told me. She could have put me first for once and thought about my future, my happiness instead of his. But the conclusion I always come to is that she could have at least apologized.” Neal played with his salad.

Brenda wasn’t sure what to say. He was being so open and honest she didn’t want to say anything to downplay the moment.

Then the waiter walked up with two plates of food. “Antonio’s famous lasagna.” He set them down and walked away.

“I’m sorry,” Neal said, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to unload on you like that, again. What is it about you that makes me confess my deepest secrets? Are you just that type of person where everyone tells you everything?”

Brenda laughed. “Quite the contrary, I assure you. Everyone is usually closed-mouthed, like what they tell me will be used against them in a court of law.” She reached over and put her hand on his. “And you don’t have to apologize. Thanks for sharing.”

He smiled uneasily, nodded, and then tasted his food. “This is fantastic. The fresh basil and tomato and Italian sausage.”

“I know, right?”

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes sincere and warm.

A rush of contentment flooded Brenda’s body, and she even had the word ‘love’ bouncing around in her head, which she quickly shook off. “Anytime.”