Nan Dixon - To Catch A Thief

“Because we’ve been so busy, the servers are waiting too long for their drink orders.”

“That’s not good.” Shouldn’t there be people lingering over a glass of wine or having an early cocktail right now? “You don’t serve lunch?”

“We do, but we’re closed on Mondays.”

Carolina nodded. She wasn’t sure what day it was. Since she’d returned to Tybee, the days all blended together.

“I have one more interview this evening,” Abby said, “but I want to make this decision fast. How soon could you start?”

Carolina moved to the other side of the bar. “As soon as you need me.”

Abby touched her shoulder. “Wonderful.”

After discussing the pay, they left the restaurant.

Carolina’s phone rang. “I’m so sorry.” Her face flamed. “I thought I shut it off.”

“Take the call, we’re done. It was nice to meet you.” Abby shook her hand and headed back to Fitzgerald House.

Carolina pulled out her phone. The cursed bird rattled against the case. “Mamá? Are you all right?”

“I wanted to hear about your interview.”

“It was good. And the pay is better than any job I’ve found.” Carolina sat at the nearest table. “Is Mrs. Halvorsen still there?”

“She’s boring. I sent her home.” Her mother’s voice turned low and sly. “Did you get something for me?”

“Mamá!” How was she going to put the small bird back?

“They have everything!”

“But...”

Her mother sniffled. “I thought you loved me.”

“You know I love you.” Carolina’s words rushed out. “You’re all I have.”

“Then why are you only thinking of yourself? I thought I’d brought you up better. I guess not.” The phone clicked off.

Carolina’s phone clattered to the table. How could her mother ask this of her? As much as she hated the idea of working for her half sister, this was the best job around and her mother wanted to jeopardize it for a...a souvenir.

She laid her head on her arms. Could she leave the bird on a courtyard table? No. Leaving it there might implicate her. And Abby might be vindictive.

Somehow she had to get it back into Fitzgerald House.

* * *

SAGE COULDN’T PUT it off another day. Kaden had hounded him to come for dinner.

He glanced at his list of accomplishments posted on the fridge.

Walk around condo:

5 mins.

10 mins.

20 mins.

Go outside

Walk down River Street

Get up to Bay Street

Okay, he’d taken the elevator up to Bay, but he’d stumbled around after that.

All this training was preparation for his little stroll to Kaden’s.

After donning his sunglasses, he walked to the elevator by city hall and took it up to the Bay Street level. Next week he’d hopefully add “Climb Steps to Bay” to his Done list.

By the time he got to Broughton, he was sweating. After just two weeks, he was out of shape. He wanted to return to work. He wanted his life back.

He flagged a cab and headed to the address Kaden had given him. Where was this carriage house? Taking a chance, he headed around the B and B and entered a courtyard through the back gate. Now what?

Instead of wasting precious energy wandering, he dialed Kaden. “I’m in a courtyard. Where do I go now?”

Kaden laughed. “Hang on. I’ll be down in...ten minutes. I’ll find you.”

Easy for him to laugh. Laughing hurt Sage’s head and ribs. He looked for a place to rest.

A woman with gorgeous black hair had her head down on her arms. Beyond her was a small bench. He passed behind her, not wanting to disturb her nap.

Shoving her chair back, she slammed it into him. He went down like a roped calf.

“Oh, my God!” the woman cried.

His head rang. Pain stabbed behind his eyes.

“Are you okay?” She snatched his hand, trying to pull him to his feet.

“Wait.” He would fall over or faint if he moved too soon. “Wait.”

She crouched next to him. “I didn’t mean to knock you down.”

“S’okay.” He took deep breaths. “I just need...”

“What? How can I help?”

He tried to get his feet under him but stumbled.

“Let me.” She supported his elbow.

He clawed his way to his feet and finally looked at the woman who’d knocked him down like he was a bowling pin.

She was beautiful. Her dark blue eyes looked almost black and her skin was a luscious golden-olive color. And her hair? Black, curly and long enough to play peekaboo with her breasts. He swiped at his chin to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

“I’m so sorry.” She led him to the chair she’d abandoned. “I wasn’t paying any attention.”

“I thought you were sleeping.” A shard of pain slammed into him. He grasped his head and couldn’t contain the groan.

“You hurt your head.” Her fingers explored his skull.

The bump she was going to find was old, but her touch was cool and soothing.

“Is this the spot?” she asked.

“Yeah, but you didn’t cause it.” He swallowed back the nausea that always accompanied his headaches. “I was hurt a—” he couldn’t remember how long ago he’d been hurt “—while ago. I get headaches.”

“So does my mother.” She kneaded his shoulders, working her fingers up the tendons of his neck. “Does this help?”

“Yes.” He groaned. “That’s...good.”

“I do this for Mamá a couple times a day.” She worked her fingers into his temples.

He didn’t talk, just enjoyed the release of pain.

“Oh, damnation! I need to get back to Mamá.”

He caught her wrist and tugged her so she stood next to him. He squinted up into her face. Her glorious skin was tinged pink. “What’s your name?”

“This is embarrassing. We’re strangers. I shouldn’t have touched you.” She wrung her magical hands. “I’m so sorry. It’s...my mother.”

“No. This is the best I’ve felt since my accident.” He couldn’t tell a stranger he’d been shot. “Thank you.”

“But I knocked you down.” She chewed her bottom lip.

“You didn’t hurt me. Unless you count my being embarrassed because I fell at the feet of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

He wasn’t kidding. “Who are you?”

“Carolina.”

“I’m Sage. Sage Cornell.” He took her hand. “Thank you.”

She settled into the chair next to him, leaving her hand in his.

“Are you a guest?” he asked. Please don’t be here on your honeymoon.

“Don’t I wish. I just applied for a job.”

“You live around here?”

“Tybee.” Darkness shadowed her eyes. She pulled her hand away and linked her fingers in her lap. “Are you a guest?”

“Visiting someone I work with. He lives here.”

Her eyebrows crunched together. “A Fitzgerald?”

“No.” He grimaced and the sting of pain reminded him to relax his face. “I don’t know why he’s living here. His fiancée’s last name is Smythe.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “I think Abby’s married to a Smythe.”

“I don’t suppose I could have your phone number.” Way to be confident. “That is, I’d like your phone number.”

“I... I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Between taking care of my mother and searching for a job, I don’t have much time.

“You don’t have time to talk?” He wouldn’t give up.

Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “I might not be a great conversationalist.”

“What can it hurt?” He pulled out his phone, raising his eyebrows. Cornells pushed through to meet their goals. “Like I said, I’m Sage Cornell.”

She sighed. “Carolina. Castillo.”

He wanted to do a fist pump, but that wouldn’t impress her. He handed her his phone, not sure his eyes would let him enter her digits correctly. Damn this injury.