Janice Johnson - Everywhere She Goes

He wasn’t a physical type that had ever attracted her, for which Cait gave thanks. Surely she’d become inured to the intensity that seemed to be as much a part of him as his raspy voice and tendency to be abrupt when he forgot he was trying to give the impression he was an easygoing man.

They had barely been seated by the eager host when a pretty blonde waitress magically appeared with menus. She wore a tight little black skirt and a crisp white shirt that strained over generous breasts.

“Mr. Chandler,” she purred.

He glanced at her with scant interest and nodded. “Jess.”

Looking disappointed, Jess retreated with their drink orders, walking more like a model prowling a catwalk than a busy waitress.

Cait was mildly surprised that her new boss had asked for iced tea rather than a beer.

“You said you have three locations,” she said.

He hadn’t even opened his menu. “This was the first.” He looked around, as if appraising the place. “The one in Bend is the busiest. We have live bands playing three or four nights a week. Comedians do better than music in Sisters, for some reason. Here?” He shrugged. “The Friday-and Saturday-night crowd like entertainment. Otherwise, food and drinks seem to be the appeal.”

Curious despite herself, she had to ask, “You were so bored, you decided instead of expanding your business or finding a new hobby, you’d run for mayor?”

His grin gave her a few palpitations she should definitely ignore. Cait was a long way from even thinking about getting involved with a guy again, and if and when she ever did, she was looking for gentle, funny, intellectual. The reasons she’d always been drawn to domineering men were not subtle. Now that she’d faced them head-on, she would make better choices. All she had to do was remember her father. The terrifying fights he and Colin had had.

Blake.

Never again.

And even if she had been attracted to Noah Chandler, she now worked for him. Would, in fact, be working closely with him. So knock it off.

All that intensity was being trained on her right now, though, which made it hard. His eyes were a startling blue, especially considering his hair was dark.

“What’s good to eat?” she asked, hiding behind the menu.

He laughed. “Now, what do you expect me to say to that? Everything, of course. I usually have a burger or one of the potpies, but I’m thinking pizza today.”

They agreed to share one called “The Farm Kitchen” that had a delicious-sounding combination of roasted red peppers, black olives, artichoke hearts and more with a roasted garlic tomato sauce. Jess took their order of pizza and salads and again retreated, with a last, sulky glance over her shoulder.

“I think your waitress has a crush on you,” Cait observed.

His eyebrows climbed in surprise. “I can’t imagine. What is she, nineteen, twenty?”

“And you’re such an old man?” Oh, teasing him wasn’t smart. Professional, she reminded herself. Keep it professional.

“Thirty-five. Not quite old enough to be her father, but close enough.” Those vivid eyes stayed on her face. “Now that I’ve hired you, am I legally safe to ask how old you are?”

“Twenty-nine. The same age as Colin’s wife. Have you met her?”

“In passing. I’ve read plenty about her.”

Cait nodded. “It’s funny, because I remember her from third or fourth grade. Or maybe both. Do you think I’d recognize a single other kid from that long ago?”

His rough chuckle felt like a touch. “No? But I understand why you did. The paper printed plenty of pictures from when she was a kid and then when she appeared last year. Not much change.”

Cait laughed. “She claims to remember me, too, but I think she’s making it up.”

“What about you? How much have you changed?”

Something about the question froze her in place. She wanted to believe...oh, that she was nothing like that timid ten-year-old. But everything that happened with Blake had made her realize that she couldn’t shake her past.

“I was a beanpole,” she told him, keeping her voice light. “Taller than all the boys at that age, and ridiculously skinny. I had white-blond hair then, too. You wouldn’t have recognized me, I promise you.”

“I’m not so sure,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “Why did you look so unhappy when I asked you that?”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

He shook his head, impatience on his face. “Never mind. None of my business.”

Silence enveloped their table. Cait looked down at her place setting to avoid his too-keen gaze. Oh, why not? she asked herself. Blake was the only secret she had.

“We weren’t a happy family,” she said, probably startling him.

He’d been scowling toward the cluster of employees who hovered near the check-in at the front entrance, but his head turned sharply when she spoke. Without looking at them, she knew they had to be sagging in relief. She would have been.

When he said nothing, she gave a one-shouldered shrug. “In those days, I mostly tried to disappear into the woodwork. I was safest if no one noticed me, you see.”

“Safest?” He sounded out the word. “Were you abused?”

“Our father was violent.” Now her voice sounded small and tight. “Mostly when he was drunk. Unfortunately, he owned a bar and, by the time he got home, he was almost always drunk.”

“I had no idea.”

“Why would you? You and Colin aren’t exactly friends, and I doubt he talks about it anyway.”

“No.” Noah sounded disturbed. “No, I don’t suppose he would.”

“Men don’t like to, do they?” What made her say that? she wondered, appalled. Was she hinting he tell her his background?

If so, he didn’t take her up on it. Their salads arrived, saving them from awkwardness. Noah asked how much seemed familiar here in town, and she was able to reminisce about the much smaller town from her childhood.

“I was remembering going to the movie theater.” She smiled at memories that were good. “Colin took me sometimes when Mom or Dad wouldn’t. He’s five years older, you know. I hate to imagine the kinds of movies he sat through for my sake! And just think if one of his friends had seen him.”

Noah’s mouth curled up on one side. “Death to a guy’s reputation,” he agreed. “Just think, now you can choose from half a dozen movies or more any Friday night.”

He admitted, when she asked, to attending the community theater’s productions on a regular basis. He had even acted in high school. “I was always the villain, of course.”

“Of course?” she echoed in surprise, then flushed when again his eyebrows rose.

“Not even my mother would call me handsome,” he said drily. “I did a hell of a job with Iago, though, if I do say so myself.”

What could she do but laugh?

The pizza, when it came, proved to be fabulous. Prompted by her questions, Noah was willing to talk about opening his first brew pub. “I still okay every menu item,” he admitted, “but I was never a cook. I have a recurring nightmare about drowning in beer, though. Kegs breaking open, and I’m trying to get them stacked but meantime the beer is pouring down on me, into my nose and mouth.”

She chuckled but had a feeling this was black humor for him. She wanted to ask if he liked his product as well as her father had his, but she refrained.

“Lucky I’m a workaholic,” he said finally.

Cait could have guessed that. “What made you run for mayor?”

He eyed her, and she suspected he was trying to decide how honest to be. “Frustration,” he finally said. “That’s probably what drives most businessmen to get involved. You discover too many factors are out of your control.” He tipped his glass of iced tea to her. “Traffic. Zoning, taxes, the adequacy or otherwise of local law enforcement. In my case, once I started expanding, I had a chance to compare how three different cities operated. I’d lived here too long to want to pull up roots, so I decided to remake Angel Butte instead.”