Runaway Mistress. Robyn Carr

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СКАЧАТЬ to say I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make light of your—you know—hair. Was it, ah, chemo? Something like that?”

      She had a momentary temptation to pretend to have had cancer, but she didn’t dare tempt fate that far. Her head bald, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, she probably looked horrible to the old guy. What to tell him? But then, did she have to admit to anything at all? This was a diner, for God’s sake. Not a shrink’s office or police interrogation.

      The look on his face was so sweet. “You just worry about people all the time, don’t you?”

      “No, I—” He stopped and seemed to gather himself up. “I worry about people,” he admitted.

      “Don’t worry about me. I’m not sick and I’m not homeless.” I am merely a brainless bimbo on the run from a murderer, she wanted to add.

      “Good,” he said. He warmed her coffee again before turning away.

      The drizzle outside suddenly turned into a relentless splatter against the window. She walked to the front of the diner to look out and was startled to see an elderly woman with a walker and a dog struggling up the curb. The wind and rain lashed at her so hard she almost lost her footing. Jennifer bolted out the door to help her. She hadn’t even given the dog a thought, and maybe that was a good thing because she might’ve hesitated. The dog growled, but not convincingly. Jennifer grasped the woman at the elbow to steady her and told the dog to hush.

      The other thing she hadn’t thought about was letting the dog in the diner, which she also did. Well, the dog was with the old woman and both were drenched. Adolfo came running with a couple of dish towels and some rapid-fire Spanish, but he wasn’t fast enough. The dog, an old and overweight yellow Lab, immediately gave a vigorous shake.

      “Aiiee, Alicia,” he said. “I’ll be mopping all the morning.”

      “Oh, Alice, you’re going to get us kicked out of here for sure. Morning, Buzz.”

      “Louise,” he said. “Don’t you have a lick of sense? You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”

      “It’s not a hurricane, for God’s sake,” she grumbled.

      “I thought maybe you’d stay home today. It’s awful out there. I’ll get your tea.”

      She looked into Jennifer’s eyes and said, “That was nice of you. And brave—how did you know Alice wouldn’t chew off your arm?”

      She continued to lead the woman into the diner and pulled out a chair at one of the few tables. “I’m not brave, but maybe stupid. I didn’t even think about the dog till she growled.” She gave her a pat. “Alice, is it? How do you do?”

      “Well, fortunately, she’s sweet as honey—”

      “And as old as God,” Buzz added, bringing a cup and saucer to the table. He sniffed the air. “Nothing smells quite as bad as that, does it? Wet dog?”

      Things in the diner seemed to settle into a routine that everyone but Jennifer was accustomed to. The dog lay under the table at her mistress’s feet, Louise pulled her own paper out of the large satchel hidden under her coat, Adolfo muttered in Spanish as he mopped the floor inside the door, and Buzz was putting out coffee cups along the counter. Mopping done, Adolfo was back at the grill, cooking and whistling. Louise seemed to be humming along, albeit off-key.

      Jennifer went back to her paper and coffee. It wasn’t very long before he was back again. Buzz. This time he had a plate. Unable to resist the temptation to feed her, he brought scrambled eggs, wheat toast and sausage. He put it down in the middle of her paper. “You a vegetarian?” he asked.

      She shook her head. She treated him to a smile. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

      “I’ll get you some juice. You ought to have juice.”

      She thought about the last time she had had eggs. It was in the suite with Nick. She’d been wearing a silk peignoir designed by Vera Wang. Eggs Benedict, served under sterling with mimosas and braised potatoes. A beautiful tray of pastries had been sent up with the brunch, but Jennifer never touched sweets. She didn’t have her figure by accident.

      “Here’s your juice.”

      “Um, would you mind…? Could I have a jelly doughnut please? A big one?”

      A genuinely happy smile broke over his face. Buzz liked seeing people eat. He had that doughnut in front of her in no time. “Eat your eggs first,” he said.

      “Yes, sir.”

      That was one thing about going undercover, she thought. You don’t have to constantly diet. And I’ll be damned if I’ll ever again work on my looks for a man!

      She flipped open the menu that sat behind the napkin dispenser and looked at the prices of what she was eating and drinking. The food was so cheap she almost gasped out loud. How in the world could he make a living, giving food away like that?

      Her mind wandered to her classy little condo on the Fort Lauderdale beach. She often had her breakfast, or at least morning coffee, on the veranda with a spectacular view of the ocean. It was small but elegant, furnished by Henredon, decorated by Nelson Little out of New York. Her carpet and sofas and chairs and ottomans were white accented with ecru, plum and eggplant pillows and throws.

      Nick would probably have it up for sale in a week. The homeless of Fort Lauderdale would no doubt be wearing her designer labels within the month.

      Buzz’s eggs were delicious. Melt-in-your-mouth delicious. Must use a ton of butter.

      A few people wandered in while Jennifer ate and all of them knew Buzz and Louise. Adolfo would occasionally peek over the back counter and say, “Buenos días.” There was a man in his fifties who took a quick cup of coffee on his way to opening up his store, the young housewives she’d seen jogging in the park a while earlier who had been suddenly drenched by the rain stopped in and a woman pulled her car right up to the front door and ran in to have her thermos filled. From the conversation, Jennifer gathered she was a Realtor, one not exactly thrilled about showing houses in such weather.

      She noticed the elderly woman, Louise, getting to her feet and shrugging into her coat.

      “Hey there, Louise. Let Adolfo give you a lift home. It’s still drizzling.”

      “I won’t melt,” she said.

      “I’m not worried about melting. I’m worried about slipping.”

      “Watch your step, then,” she shot back, clearly knowing full well he was worried about her slipping. This made Jennifer laugh and say, “You tell him, Louise.”

      “You know what I mean….” Buzz said.

      “I walk here to walk, not to ride. I’m not worried about a little rain.”

      Alice lumbered to her feet, stretched almost painfully, and took slow steps toward the door with her mistress taking slow steps behind her, inching along with the walker.

      “Louise, I’m pleading here—”

      “Get over it, Buzz,” she said, reaching the door and pushing it open. Buzz came around СКАЧАТЬ