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Authors: Robyn Carr

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BOOK: Swept Away
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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 the counter to hold the door, but Louise never looked back. He shook his head as he watched her go, then went back behind the counter in defeat.

Jennifer had never taken her jacket off. She slipped her arms through the backpack straps and went to the counter. She pulled six dollars out of her pocket and put it on the counter next to the cash register. “Do you have an umbrella?” she asked him.

“Sure. But I could have Adolfo—”

This guy was too much. A meal service, a taxi service, what next? “If you'll loan me an umbrella I'll go walk along with her, make sure she doesn't fall in a big, deep puddle, and I'll bring it back to you before I'm on my way.”

He stared at her for a moment, thinking. Then he said, “Adolfo! Bring that big old umbrella out of the golf bag back there, will you?”

“Sí. Uno momento.”

The umbrella was dusty. Obviously Buzz hadn't played much golf lately.

It wasn't difficult to catch up with Louise. Jennifer didn't even have to run. She was just up ahead in the drizzle, inching along. Once Jennifer was alongside, she held the umbrella over Louise and a little over Alice. The dog looked up at her and, if Jennifer wasn't mistaken, smiled. She definitely gave a wag of her tail.

“How about a little company?”

Louise stopped, turned slightly and looked up at the much taller Jennifer. “That's nice of you, young woman. Do you have a name?”

Damn, she hadn't thought of a name! And it couldn't be Jennifer or Chaise or anything similar. “Doris,” she said in a pinch, and winced. Where the devil had that come from? Now she was stuck with it for the time being.

“Well, Doris, did you just get out of the army?”

“No,” she laughed. “It's just a fashion statement.”

“Hmm.” Louise looked her up and down but reserved comment. She resumed walking and they went along in silence for a while. Then she stopped, turned to look up at Jennifer and asked, “What brings you to Boulder City?”

Another thing she hadn't rehearsed. She realized she was actually quite bad at this. She'd had the nerve to shave her head and eyebrows, but that's where her imagination had stopped. “I was just leaving Las Vegas and realized I'd never seen the dam or the Grand Canyon. Maybe I ought to.”

“Good idea,” Louise said, and got back to her walking. It was going to be a very long walk, no matter the distance. She was quite slow and couldn't walk and talk at the same time. If something came to mind she stopped, turned and looked up, spoke, and waited for her answer. “Do you think you'll stay very long?”

“No. Maybe a day or two. Or three.” As she said that she looked around. They were passing the park and started up a cracked sidewalk into the quaint neighborhood Jennifer had noticed before. Small town U.S.A. Compared to South Florida it was practically deserted. Much too quiet and ordinary for someone like Nick Noble. This fact recommended it.

“Here we are,” Louise finally said, stopping in front of one of the many tiny houses a couple of short blocks from the park. This one and the ones on either side appeared to have freshly painted trim and were well maintained. Louise trudged toward the door of her house. Alice paused only long enough to pee on the grass before they went inside. “Thank you, Doris. I hope you enjoy your time in Boulder City. It's a nice little place.” Alice looked over her shoulder at Jennifer; her tail sashayed back and forth a couple of times. They disappeared inside the house.

Jennifer went back the way she had come, spinning the umbrella over her head. When she got to the Tin Can she saw that there were a few more people in there now, and there was a sign in the window that she was quite sure hadn't been there before. Help Wanted.

She took the umbrella to the counter and handed it to Buzz. “She's all set. Stubborn, huh?”

“She likes that walk. Claims it keeps her on her feet. I think she's around eighty now and she's been getting her breakfast here for thirty years.”

“What kind of help are you looking for, exactly?” She surprised herself with the question.

“Little of everything,” he said with a shrug. “Place isn't that crowded during the weekday mornings. I can almost handle it myself, but it's better when I have someone steady. Waiting tables, doing dishes, sweeping up. If we go through a busy spell and I have to ask the other waitresses to come in at the crack of dawn, they get all pissy. Not real flexible. You know wo—you know waitresses.”

Adolfo popped into view from the grill. “
Sí,
we need help for the help.”

“They're precious flowers,” Buzz said with a wide grin.

She looked around, and when comfortable that she wouldn't be overheard, she asked, “How fussy are you about references?”

“I'm kind of easy there,” he said. “You sound interested.”

“I...ah...didn't really think I was looking for work. I haven't waited tables since I was in my teens.”

“It hasn't changed much over the years. I pay minimum wage, you bus your own tables, keep your tips, split 'em when you work with the other girls, and can have any meals you show up for, on or off your shift. I could use someone when I open. At 5:00 a.m. Pretty rude hour of the day. Especially for the precious flowers.” Grin.

“I like to get up early.”

“I guess you don't have ID?”

“I... Ah...” She shook her head. “No.”

“You have a name?”

“Doris.”

“Well then, Doris. See you at 5:00 a.m. tomorrow?”

She smiled in spite of herself, but mocked herself inside—what the devil are you smiling about? Nick is probably shredding your Vera Wang nightie while you're taking minimum wage in a greasy spoon!

But it was a little honest work and no one would be ogling her. For sure not with her bald head and the masculine clothes. She could stretch the money she had in her backpack a little further and have time to think this through. This diner was safe and clean and warm, the people so far had been decent, and at this stage she wasn't about to take that lightly. Plus, there was no way Nick Noble would end up within twenty miles of a place like this—it was just too common.

It would only be for a little while. She had no idea what would come next, but she was pretty sure it wouldn't be equal to that classy condo with the spectacular ocean view. Those days were pretty much behind her, unless she took a notion to find another rich old boyfriend. And from where she stood, that was about as likely as snow in hell.

“A little tip, Doris. You might try the Sunset Motel over on Carver. It's not too far from here and the owner will give you a cheap weekly rate and heat. It don't look like much, but it's clean and safe. But don't tell Charlie I told you. I consider him a friend, but he's tight as a bull's ass and I don't see any point in my new waitress freezing to death. And you're going to have to get a scarf or something. You can't wait tables in a ball cap and I'm afraid that shiny dome on a girl might upset the tea-and-cookie crowd.”

“The...?”

“The little old ladies.”

“Oh. Sure. No problem.”

“It ain't easy work, but it doesn't pay well.”

“Sounds that way,” she said, but she said it with a smile. “Thanks, Buzz. You're a good guy.”

“Aw, hell, I'm a tyrant. You'll hate me in no time. Go get me that sign, will you, girl?”

* * *

Hate Buzz? Impossible. He might have been an angel in disguise. An angel with a few rough edges, maybe, but angelic just the same.

In keeping with her new appearance, Jennifer had her left ear pierced and decorated with five silver hoops. She had to sleep on her right side for a week, but she didn't resemble the woman who had fled the MGM Grand less than a week ago.

In the diner she had a little space and time to get back on her feet, to think about where she'd been and where she was going—both physically and emotionally. And she came to realize very soon that Buzz had seen a need in her and filled it with that Help Wanted sign, which he kept on the shelf under the cash register. He probably put it out whenever someone he suspected needed help wandered into his diner.

Buzz was an old bachelor who had run the diner for forty years. He had a pretty nice house, he told her, but it was lonely there. He liked to be at work—he was usually there from five in the morning until at least nine at night. He bragged that there was no food in the refrigerator at home, and he paid Adolfo's wife to clean and do laundry for him every couple of weeks.

BOOK: Swept Away
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