The Lottery Winner. Emilie Rose

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      The music went silent, and the lights illuminating the water went dark, jarring Jessie into action. She closed and latched the window. If her brother found out she was outside the compound after dark, he’d never stop lecturing. But she should be safe. No one except her family knew she was in Key West, and it was only a half mile’s walk to where she’d parked her rental car at the opposite end of the well-lit boardwalk. She’d thought it better to keep the vehicle as far away from the restaurant as possible just in case Brandon’s paranoia wasn’t all in his head.

      Miri came out of the kitchen, followed by the good-looking guy who’d been seated at the oyster bar most of the evening. Something about the way he’d scrutinized Jessie’s every move tonight had made her nervous. That uneasiness intensified now with him only two yards away. He wasn’t part of the kitchen staff, so who was he?

      “You did a great job tonight, Jessie.”

      “Thanks, Miri.”

      Miri indicated her companion with a flip of her fingers. “Jessie, my nephew, Logan Nash.”

      The one who drove the restaurateur nuts with his interference? He looked only a few years older than Jessie. His hair was as black as the cormorant’s wings and his eyes, as blue as the noon sky, stared at her with suspicion.

      Jessie wrung the wet rag in her hands and nodded but said nothing and didn’t offer her hand. He nodded in return.

      “Will you be back tomorrow?” Miri asked.

      A wad of bills weighted Jessie’s pocket. Tonight’s tips would be enough to get by for a while. But for how long? Not six more weeks, for sure.

      “I ask because someone is coming in for an interview in the morning,” Miri added when Jessie hesitated. “If she works out, I’ll have her shadow you tomorrow night.”

      Jessie dug her nails deeper into the cotton. She’d promised to train her replacements. And Miri needed a buffer between her and the human cormorant. Should she risk it? Going back to solitary confinement after an evening of interacting with people sounded like torture. But no one should recognize her here. Not with her disguise.

      She took a deep breath and answered, “I’ll be here,” before she could change her mind.

      “Great, hon. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

      Logan tugged the bank bag from Miri’s hands. “I’ll give Jessie a ride home on my way to drop off tonight’s deposit.”

      Objections blossomed in Jessie’s head. Miri’s startled expression, which quickly transformed to one of worry, confirmed Jessie’s reservations. “Thanks, but I, um...have my car.”

      “Miri’s is the only one in the lot.”

      “I parked nearby.”

      “I’ll walk you to it.”

      His forceful tone made her hackles rise. It was one thing for her father or brother to boss her around—or, as they said, “strongly encourage”—but she wasn’t taking orders from a stranger. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ll be fine.”

      “It’s almost midnight.”

      “I have pepper spray.”

      His nostrils flared in obvious irritation and his mouth opened, but Miri laid a hand on his arm. “Leave her be, Logan. After her busy night, Jessie probably needs to clear her head. I always do. Thanks for taking the deposit. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She crossed to the front door and held it open in a blatant invitation for Logan to leave.

      Blue eyes drilled Jessie’s again. “You need to hit the clinic for a drug test before you come in tomorrow. All of our employees are tested.”

      Jessie glanced at Miri, who shook her head. “I’ll manage my employees, Logan. Now go.”

      His lips thinned. He looked ready to argue, but then said, “Good night.”

      He left and the wind leaked from Jessie’s lungs. Only then did she notice her racing heart and damp palms. “So that’s him.”

      Miri nodded. “I commend you on not getting into a car with a strange man, especially one who’s being a bossy britches, but you can trust Logan. He’s a good one. Just a little overprotective.”

      “About that drug test...I’m trying to avoid a paper trail right now.”

      “I suspected as much. Forget it. After the way you hustled tonight, I know you’re not using anything.”

      “If you have any doubts about me working here—”

      “I don’t.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Want me to give you a ride to your car?”

      Jessie shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m just down the boardwalk.”

      “I’d feel better if I watched you till you’re out of sight.” After locking the front door she led Jessie out the rear to the patio. She pulled out her phone and punched buttons. Seconds later Jessie’s phone vibrated against her hip. “Now you have my number. Save it and call if you need me. For anything, hon, and at any time. Day or night. Be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Then Miri sank into a chair. She reminded Jessie so much of her mother sitting on the patio and watching as Jessie walked to the end of their long driveway to wait for the school bus that it made her eyes sting.

      “Good night, Miri. And thanks for...understanding.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with needing a second chance.”

      Jessie didn’t correct her. She backed away and waved then turned and strode off before she gave in to the overwhelming urge to hug the restaurant owner, confess all and ask her advice. But it was better if Miri didn’t know. Knowing could add her to the list of people adversely affected by being connected to Jessamine.

      For the first time since being forced from her job, she felt a sense of purpose. She couldn’t protect her mother from the chaos at home, but she could protect Miri from her mess here and from her overbearing nephew.

      It wasn’t until Jessie slowed to turn off Highway 1 that she realized she’d said no to Logan Nash. Funny how easy it had been to say the word to him. But he’d definitely gotten on her bad side, and like a student who seemed destined to cause trouble, he needed watching.

      * * *

      FOR THE FIRST time since arriving in Florida, Jessie awoke refreshed and eager to start her day. Attributing her good night’s sleep to the hustle at work, she started a pot of the exotic coffee provided with her rental, showered and dressed while it brewed, then grabbed her mug, her caddy of art supplies and her easel and headed out onto the deck.

      Her brother had called twice while she was in the shower, and she debated calling him back. But for once she didn’t want to talk to him. Calling meant she might have to lie about where she’d been last night or what she’d СКАЧАТЬ