I studied Thea for a long moment. It wasn’t that we never got the request, but it was usually because someone didn’t have a green card. As long as the person was a hard worker, Duncan found his way around those cases, paying them out of the till each week. But I didn’t think that was the case for Thea. So, why did she need things done that way? She didn’t seem the type to try for tax evasion.
“Duncan’s usually pretty good about working with those kinds of requests,” I said finally.
Thea’s grip on the pen loosened a fraction, and she began scrawling her information across the page. “Great. Thank you.”
In less than five minutes, she was done and handing it back. I quickly scanned the sheet. Her phone number, email, and address were blank. Between that and the cash request, my stomach started to twist.
“We just need a phone number or email so we can contact you about an interview,” I said softly.
Thea licked her lips. “I don’t have either. Not really a tech person. But I can check in tomorrow or the next day and see if Duncan’s interested.”
No phone or email. I didn’t know anyone without both. Even Lolli, who was always going on and on about the evils of technology, had a cell phone and email—even if she only used that email for ordering diamond art supplies and weed.
“Sure,” I told Thea. “That’s not a problem at all.”
“Thanks, Rho.” Her cheeks flushed. “You’re a really good person.”
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but Thea wasalready turning to leave. I watched her thread her way through rows of plants until she slipped out the door. But even after she disappeared, I couldn’t stop wondering what the heck she was hiding from.
As I slowedto a stop at the last traffic light in town, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension there. Duncan and I had spent hours rotating displays this afternoon. Between that and doing heavy lifting first thing, my body was paying for it. I really needed that hot bath and some ibuprofen.
The light changed from red to green, and I eased off the brake. I stole a quick glance at the newly painted sign for The Mix Up and wished like hell they were still open. I would’ve done bad things for their spinach and artichoke grilled cheese right about now.
Biscuit stuck his head over the hammock, resting it on my shoulder. Everything inside me twisted at the simple action. He was coming out of his shell more and more.
I scratched the side of his jaw as I guided my SUV toward home. “We’ll just have to settle for my grilled cheese creation and kibble for you.”
I swore I could see Biscuit glaring at me in the rearview mirror.
“Don’t give me that look. You already had one sandwich today. We’re lucky you didn’t have the Hershey squirts all over the nursery. Dunc never would’ve let you back in after that.”
Biscuit let out a huff of air, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
In a matter of minutes, I was turning onto my drive.Mydrive. Tomyhouse. It was all still a little surreal. That familiar twitchiness came over me—the feeling of my skin being too tight for my body, making it itchy.
I forced myself to take a deep breath.
In. Two. Three.
I took in the stunning view as I inhaled. The rock formations. The mountains. The place my family had loved.
Out. Two. Three.
I tried to release the edge of panic as I exhaled. Some part of me worried that if I ever truly put down roots again, something awful would happen to take it all away. But I couldn’t let that ugly fear win. It would mean the fire had won. And I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I slowed my SUV as I reached the makeshift parking area in front of the Victorian. Owen was chugging a bottle of water, and Silas and Carlos were shoving gear into the backs of their trucks. I rolled down my window, sending them a grin. “Working hard or hardly workin’?”
Silas shot me a wide smile. “Just calling off for the day. You want to hit the bar with me?”
A chuckle slipped free as I shook my head. “Hitting the bar with you means dealing with death glares from yourmanyadoring fans.”
Silas mimed a dagger to the heart. “Killing me. You know I’d send ‘em all packing for you, dream girl.”
Carlos snorted, smacking him on the back of the head. “You want Shep to tan your hide?”
Silas just laughed. “Gotta shoot your shot.”
Owen sent Silas a glare. “Or you could try something new and leave her the fuck alone.”
