Now That You're Here. Lynnette Kent

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      They listened for a couple of hours, talking during the quiet spots, trading glances at high points in the music…and low ones. During the last break, three different customers stopped to harass Jimmy about closing the kitchen.

      “You’d think the food actually tasted good,” he said after the last couple left. “The bread was fresh tonight, anyway. That might have impressed them.”

      “Fresh is always a good start.” Emma’s eyes laughed at him over the rim of her glass.

      He enjoyed her good mood, maybe a little too much. “What do you know about cooking, Professor?”

      “Quite a lot, actually. I’ve taken classes for years.”

      “No kidding? I’m glad you didn’t take more than a bite of that sandwich last night, then. I didn’t know I was feeding an expert.”

      Her smile was preoccupied. “You know, Jimmy…”

      He recognized that look. Emma’s troublemaking face hadn’t changed in twenty years. “What?”

      “I could cook for you.”

      “That’d be great some night.” He deliberately misunderstood.

      She didn’t let him get away with it. “No, I mean here. At the club. I could be The Indigo’s cook.”

      “But…” Jimmy shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Emma, I can’t hire you, especially not as a cook.”

      “Why not? I can do the work, I know I can.”

      “This isn’t the kind of place you ought to be working at all. You could get a teaching job in any school in the state.”

      “But I’m not going to get a teaching position. I…I’ve taken some time off.”

      “A…what do they call it? A sabbatical?”

      Her eyes avoided his face. “More or less.”

      “Then you really don’t want to tie yourself down to a job like this. Anyway, I can’t see me being your boss.”

      She folded her arms across her chest, which meant she was about to get stubborn. “I don’t understand.”

      “We’re friends.” More than friends, for one summer. “That complicates the situation when you’re working together.”

      “You aren’t friends with your other employees?”

      His face heated under her accusing stare. “Sure. Except when the club closes, they go their ways and I go mine.”

      Emma hesitated a few seconds, then cleared her throat. “We can do the same.”

      She watched as Jimmy’s jaw dropped. “You mean—”

      “I think that will work quite nicely, for us to see each other only at the club, as employee and employer.” The whole idea was preposterous, insane…and yet felt exactly right. As if she’d been brought to Jimmy’s club at this very moment for a purpose she wasn’t sure she recognized.

      All she had to do was convince Jimmy. “You do need a cook, don’t you?”

      “I thought so. Now I’m not sure.”

      “Good food would bring more customers in.”

      He shook his head. “The money’s in the liquor.”

      “But food persuades them to stay longer and buy more drinks.” She lifted her chin, daring him to contradict her. Silently praying he would allow her this chance.

      Finally he shrugged and sent her one of his sexy grins. “We can give it a shot, I guess. I was planning to offer seven bucks an hour for six nights a week, five to two.”

      She fixed him with that look. “Fifteen.”

      Jimmy choked. “What’s your experience working a restaurant?”

      “What other choice do you have?”

      “Jeez.” He rolled his eyes. “Nine.”

      “Ten.”

      “Damn. Ten.”

      She smiled in relief. “That’s good, then. You won’t be sorry.”

      “I could never be sorry to see you again.” Jimmy walked her to the front door and stood with her while she waited for a cab. “If you change your mind…”

      “I won’t.” No uncertainty allowed. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to make some calls about provisions.”

      He put his hand on her arm. “What about lunch?”

      Emma hated to give up the chance for a private encounter with this stunning man. But in the long term, resisting might prove a better plan. “I’ll make lunch here—give you a sample of what I can do.”

      He tightened his grip, then stepped back quickly just as the cab drew up to the curb. Opening the door, he leaned in as she settled on the seat.

      “This is crazy, you know. Not what I planned at all.”

      She took a risk and ran her fingertips lightly along the smooth line of his jaw. “Everything will work out, Jimmy. I’m sure of it.”

      With a smile, he shut the door. Emma turned to the window and saw him still standing on the pavement, watching the cab out of sight.

      Back in her hotel room, combing out her hair, she acknowledged her own qualms. “Everything will work out,” she assured herself. “I may have totally ruined the rest of my life. But surely I can manage to do this one thing right!”

      CHAPTER THREE

      HARLOW STAYED in the shadows at the street end of the alley, dragging on a cigarette as he watched Falcon put the English lady into a cab.

      Ryan came up from behind, with Tommy following. “Hey, Harl—”

      “Shut up.” Harlow jerked a nod toward the street. “Falcon’s still out there.”

      “Okay, okay.” They froze in place until the door to the club opened and closed Falcon inside.

      “Nice scenery,” Ry commented. His voice sounded easy and light, the way it did after a rush. “I like my women on the big side.”

      “I like ’em big where it counts.” Tomas cupped his hands in front of his chest. “Ya know?”

      Ryan laughed. Harlow dropped his cigarette butt to the pavement and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “Think with your brains for a change, Tommy. The lady could be useful.”

      “Women are built useful.” This gesture СКАЧАТЬ