The Second Time is Sweeter, page 16
Do not engage came to mind.
Yes, she’d read that somewhere, too.
With only a moment’s hesitation, Sophia blocked Bruce from her social media and phone.
CHAPTER 15
“Okay, I was going to save this for later tonight.” Lizzie sidled up next to Sophia at the hostess booth. “But I’m going to pull out my big guns for you. You’ve been a great friend and you deserve it. I’ve got just the right guy.”
“But—” Sophia said.
“No buts. This guy is spectacular. Better yet, he can’t stand me.”
“He can’t stand you? Why? Is something wrong with him?”
“No,” Lizzie laughed. “He hates blondes, I think. Maybe some kind of Mommy issues.”
“Oh wow. Sounds great,” Sophia deadpanned.
“Okay, just listen. He is a huge fan of Sofia Loren types.”
“And of all Sophia’s everywhere, as a general rule?”
“Of curvy petite Italian women. Brunettes, big dark eyes, olive skin. He’s a stickler for them. He has to be. I’m telling you, I tried everything to get this guy to be interested in me. No dice. He’s really picky. What do you think?”
“I think we have to close on Mondays.”
Sophia went through her reservations list. Four diners tonight. One from out of town on a last-minute business trip, an older couple celebrating being empty nesters, and a younger couple whose babysitter had left them hanging on Saturday night. They brought the baby. While it was nice to be open for these odd occurrences, it no longer made sense financially. She was already down to a skeleton crew.
“Don’t tell Angie,” Lizzie said. “She’s in a mood tonight.”
“When is she not in a mood?” Sophia walked back toward the kitchen, and nearly ran into Angie.
“Everything okay? Are they enjoying my special of the day?”
“Oh yes, honey!” Lizzie called out from behind Sophia.
“Of course,” Sophia agreed. “Hey, I need to talk to both of you for a minute.”
Sophia and Lizzie stepped inside the kitchen.
“What is it?” Angie asked. “Sounds serious.”
“Now Angie, just calm down.” Lizzie patted Angie’s back.
“Oh my God, what is it? Did we get a bad review? Was it that curmudgeon last week who said the scampi was undercooked?” Angie’s face flushed and she rubbed her chest, code for ‘I’m about to have a chef-sized fit.’ With my luck, he’s the reviewer for the New York Times! One bad night is all it takes to have your entire career flushed down the toilet. Why me, God? Why me?”
“Angie, please, don’t be ridiculous. What would the New York Times be doing out here? It’s not about a bad review. It’s about my uh, love life.”
Silence from both Angie and Lizzie, and in fact from the entire kitchen staff. Raul looked up from the sauce, then back down.
“This is one of those ‘what’s said in the kitchen stays in the kitchen’ things we talked about,” Sophia said.
Angie clapped her hands. “Oh goodie. Our first official one.”
Sophia drew them aside, a bit of a joke, she realized, as this kitchen had Dumbo-sized ears. She cleared her throat. How many times had she told them how much Riley had hurt her? How much she hated him? She hadn’t been exactly fair to him and her complaints were entirely one-sided.
“It’s about me and Riley. We kind of, we sort of—”
“Holy Mary Mother of God. You’re back together!” Lizzie squealed.
Raul, to his credit, continued to stir, head down. Never mind that he’d never paid that much attention to a sauce in his life. Suddenly this sauce was his opus.
“Are you?” Angie asked.
“Well, okay, yes. We did. I did.” Sophia coughed.
“You and Riley?” Angie and Lizzie both said at once.
“Okay, so I realize all the things I’ve told you about him over the years probably gave you a certain picture of the man and our relationship. I might have been a little unfair and maybe a little one-sided?”
“Sure, maybe.” Lizzie said, her lips twitching.
“Admit it, you’ve been in love with the man for years,” Angie said.
“No one actively hates an ex that much unless she still loves him,” Lizzie, in all her Dr. Phil-like wisdom, said. “The opposite of love is indifference.”
“Kind of hoping you’d come around to the realization yourself.” Angie nodded.
“All those long-distance online relationships?” Lizzie added. “C’mon, you never wanted anyone else. Not really.”
“Wait, hang on a minute here,” Sophia said. “We’re taking it slow. Which is smart, you have to admit.”
Lizzie and Angie laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“So you’re just, like, taking this slow…with Riley?” Lizzie said.
“Sure, why not?”
“This is the same man who wanted to marry you after two weeks? The one who wanted to control everything?”
“He’s changed.”
“That may be,” Lizzie said. “But you can’t take things slow—”
Angie laughed so hard she gripped the counter. “With your husband.”
Sophia realized how strange that sounded. “Uh—well…he said…”
Angie elbowed Sophia. “I don’t think you understand what ‘taking it slow’ with a relationship actually means.”
“Yeah, does that mean you walk slowly around the house, cook slow dinners, listen to slow music? Slow dance?” Lizzie pulled out her pad. “This has potential as a comedy routine. I’m going to write my idea down right now.”
“Okay, laugh all you want,” Sophia said. “Because each one of you has been married how many times now?”
Both Angie and Lizzie froze.
“Not even once,” Lizzie admitted.
“Same here.”
Sophia took a deep breath. “Right. So, thanks anyway, but I’m not dating anyone else.”
“Ever,” Lizzie said with a grin.
“Our past is complicated,” Sophia said. “He realizes that he rushed everything with us. That I wasn’t ready, but he didn’t want to hear that at the time.”
“Angie!” Raul called out, his voice rising in panic. “The sauce.”
“What did you do?” Angie ran to the stove. “What did you do?”
“I don’t know, it was fine and then I don’t know what happened.” He sent an apologetic look Sophia’s way.
“It’s Monday,” Sophia reminded everyone. “You have plenty of time to do another batch.”
That was another thing they all needed to discuss but maybe later. Sophia whipped through the doors of the kitchen into the dining hall as her cell phone pinged with a text alert.
Hello beautiful. From Riley.
Swoon. She wondered if replying hello handsome would sound too juvenile and contrived. And also, was she going to question every single thing she said when it came to Riley? She’d never done that before. Then again, her relationship with Riley for years had been so restricted. Having no boundaries on communication other than the ones she put in place would be new and interesting. And having him available for months on end with no long separations? Also new.
She texted back: Hi.
How original. Okay, she had to stop being so hard on herself. Why had she always had the funniest quips and lines to share with her massive Twitter following but when it came to Riley she was struck dumb?
Dinner tonight?
Oh, wow. A real question, with a question mark and everything? Was it too soon to get together again if they were taking this slow? Probably, but then again, she had no plans other than Facebook and Twitter.
I’m home by eight. I’ll bring something from the restaurant.
I was going to cook for you.
Thanks, I’m not in the mood for soup.
Okay, fine, but I decide on dessert.
Deal, she texted back and then slipped her phone in her pocket.
Dear Lord, she was really dating her husband.
Riley put his cell phone away and stood. The end of another day. He might actually have a paper cut.
“Was that Sophia you were just texting?” Jennifer stood in his doorway, a knowing smile plastered on her face.
Stupid open-door policy. “Yeah. Why?”
“Priscilla said she saw you two out last night.”
“Did she also tell you she made a pass at me?” Riley scowled.
“Yeah,” Jennifer said with a sigh. “She’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m friends with her sometimes.”
“I don’t know either.” He moved to the filing cabinet and stuck a folder in the budget section. “Think about it.”
“Well, I for one am happy for you, chief. I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Thanks.”
Since he didn’t have a patrol shift tonight and Sophia was at work, Riley figured he’d drop by Lucy’s and see how much she’d been lying to him. He wasn’t gullible enough to believe that Lucy would tell him the truth. Ever. Certainly not while she was using. He changed into the sweats he kept in the locker room, left the holster on, and grabbed a jacket. The drive into Napa was backed up with rush-hour traffic, but he still made it within forty-five minutes. Then sat in his truck for another thirty minutes watching the house. He couldn’t help it, but he didn’t trust Lucy any longer. She couldn’t make smart decisions, her current choice of male companionship being high on that list just below the drugs.
Olga the psychic, as luck would have it, sat on the porch of her house no doubt waiting for suckers to arrive. “Hey, good looking. The rate is half-off this month. New year and people are still paying off Christmas debt. You know how it is.”
He did not. “Yeah.”
“Want your fortune?”
“No. But thanks.” He rapped on the door once. One warning was all Lucy would get from him, then he was in the house. He wanted to surprise her. That was part of the deal. She didn’t have time to cover anything up.
Olga waved her hand in the air. “Suit yourself, but Lucy’s in a bad way.”
“It doesn’t take a psychic.”
Lucy didn’t open right away, so he let himself in. For once, the house looked clean. A quick glance and he could see the sink empty of dishes. A few blankets were folded neatly on the couch. The kitchen table was cleared, save for a newspaper and a pencil nearby.
“I’ll be right there, babe,” Lucy called out from inside the guest bathroom.
“It’s me, Luce.”
“Riley?” She opened the door a crack. “I didn’t expect you.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“But we just talked yesterday.”
“Come on out.”
“Well, geez, I’m kind of busy in here.”
“I’ll wait.”
He took a seat on the couch but stood after a minute. Too antsy.
Something wasn’t right despite the orderly scene. He picked up a framed photo on a nearby cluttered bookshelf. Lucy still had photos of the family everywhere. Photos of Lucy and him when they were about four and five respectively, each sitting on a parent’s lap. Dad left the following year, Riley thought, but couldn’t remember exactly. A long time ago, to be sure. He was a loser, anyway, and the only thing he’d ever taught Riley was what not to do. Mom had tried, at least, but she’d barely lasted through their teenage years.
Ten minutes later, Lucy emerged from the bathroom. She’d done a lousy job of covering up a black eye with too much makeup. He reached her in two steps and put his hand out to brush the hair she’d used to partially cover her right eye out of the way.
“He did this?”
She pushed his hand away. “Everything was going so well. I don’t know what I did wrong. I cleaned up the place and everything. Anyway, he’s really sorry.”
“He will be.”
“Maybe you should leave and let me handle this. He went to the store to get me some stuff I need. And flowers.”
“Sure, because that fixes everything.” He was so sick of this.
Lucy didn’t see that she could do much better than this loser. Riley blamed himself since he’d been away so many years. Lucy had been able to let herself go and now strong patterns of behavior were set in place. Patterns it could take years to reverse. The front door opened, and Numb Skull started to come through it, flowers in hand. He took one look at Riley and did a reverse back out the door.
He was smarter than he looked.
Riley advanced, following the guy out of the house, ignoring Lucy’s pleas for him to stop. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The flowers and shopping bag dropped to the ground and Riley’s forearm was across the fool’s neck. “If you ever lay a hand on my sister again, I’ll kill you.”
Riley told himself to relax, to think clearly. He was police chief of a nearby town and had no business losing his cool.
Let him go. Relax.
“I am relaxed,” Dick barely squeaked out and until that moment Riley didn’t realize he’d said that out loud.
“He’s not worth it!” He heard Lucy’s voice coming to him as if from a tunnel, but clearly calling out to Riley.
The words pulled him out of his rage and Riley’s forearm lowered slowly off the man’s neck. Just in time, as his face had turned red, eyes bulging out of their sockets. He took a deep, gasping breath when Riley let go and slid to the ground.
“Get up,” Riley growled at him. “And get out before I call the cops.”
“Go ahead,” he said, rubbing his neck. “I want to see what they say when I tell them what you did to me, Mr. Police Chief.”
“Your word against ours,” Lucy said from inside the house. “I didn’t see him do anything but escort you outside.”
“Is that how it is? You’re going to stand up for your brother now?” Dick finally staggered up, taking his flowers and bag with him. “After all I did for you?”
Riley gave the man a little shove. “Nice knowing you.”
He ignored Riley and turned to Lucy. “Ah, who needs you, anyway?”
Riley walked to the curb to make sure the guy left.
“This isn’t over,” Dick said from his car, his tone low, menacing.
“Come find me. Anytime.”
Only when Dick had roared off in his car and turned the corner did Riley feel it was okay to walk back inside. When he did, he found Lucy sitting on the couch, head in her hands.
“Why do I keep picking such losers?”
He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. Didn’t say a word because he had no answer. He hoped Lucy would come to better conclusions this time, because maybe when she did, they would mean more to her than someone else parroting what everyone in their right mind could see.
It was time for her to move away and start over somewhere, anywhere else.
He sat with her a few more minutes until it was time for him to go.
The one true thing Riley had ever been able to count on, whether he’d just returned from a war zone or simply a trip to the PX, was that when Sophia waited for him all seemed right in his world. It was how he’d understood that he was in love for the first time. Meeting her at Henry’s, he’d actually thought he might have a casual fling. But within a week he’d realized he couldn’t live without her. One more week and he’d proposed. He didn’t think that kind of a thing happened to men like him.
She’d come from such a different background and family life than he had that they might as well have been raised on different planets. Either way, she was his from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He didn’t know how or why he’d gotten so lucky but in this one area of his life everything had sort of fallen together for him. For a while, anyway. Even now, a twenty-nine-year-old man who’d just had his arm across a man’s neck choking out most of his wind, all he had to do was walk in the door and he knew that Sophia would take him somewhere else entirely.
She opened the front door. “Dessert will get you in the door, chief.”
Hershee yipped and Sophia shushed her.
“Too easy.” He produced a quart of Chunky Monkey.
“You do know me.”
He took two steps in the door and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the unique sweet scent that was all hers. His wife. His woman.
“Hi,” she said, framing his face with her hands. Her expression went from interested to concerned, her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied. “Work stuff.” He’d never shared the ugliest parts of his life with her and wasn’t about to start now.
He’d sheltered her as much as he possibly could. Maybe it wasn’t smart, and he needed to change that soon. He’d said things would be different now. She’d been through a lot herself, even if he’d been the one to put her through most of it. But he didn’t want to worry her tonight. Besides, he could handle Dick, threats and all. Neanderthals like him were all talk. But Sophia would be a different story. She’d take something like this and make a federal case out of it. Start lighting candles at St. Mary’s. She took worrying to Olympic levels ever since David and Nikki. Riley couldn’t blame her.
She pulled him to the kitchen table, which she had already set. “I was thinking today that it must be so different for you being in such a small town where nothing ever happens. After everything you’ve been through.”
“It’s a change.”
“But it’s okay, right?” She gave him a sideways glance while she moved to serve the pasta.
Reassurance, he reminded himself. She wanted to know he was safe. This was important to her, and if he didn’t know that by now, he didn’t know anything.
He held up his index finger. “I got a paper cut today. High stakes here.”
Hopefully, that would set her mind at ease. Best not to enlighten her on the fact that every town had drunks, drugs both legal and illegal, and more than its fill of domestic violence. Every dysfunctional family had the chance to become its own little war zone and no town in America was immune to it. He’d visited a family just last week on patrol after a disturbance of the peace complaint. Thankfully, the sight of a uniformed officer on their front step sobered some people up in a hurry. But those kinds of situations could go sideways.
