Patricia Thayer - A Taste of Paradise

It dawned on her that she’d let her father brainwash her into thinking she and Jed were perfect for each other. J.C. had said they had so much in common and Jed had been just as convincing. In truth, the marriage would have been advantageous for J. C. Sheridan and his business dealings. As usual, his daughter’s feelings were his last concern. Had her father ever loved her, or was her only value her stock shares? That hurt worst of all. Suddenly, tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t seem to stop the sobs that shook her body.

Nate heard Tori’s soft sobbing even before he found his way up the stairs with the bucket and mop. He wasn’t quite sure what he should do. He knew from experience with his sister that Tori probably wouldn’t want anyone to see her cry. But Tori was all alone. Would she go back to the man who had caused the sadness in her big brown eyes? Those sparkling golden-hued eyes had been Nate’s undoing, not to mention her pouty, kissable lips and thick, wheat-colored hair.

Nate quickly shook away the direction of his thoughts. He was the sheriff and should be checking for outstanding warrants, or if she was on a missing persons list rather than fantasizing about her.

It had turned out she had a spotless record; she’d never even had a traffic ticket. She lived in an exclusive area of San Francisco and drove an expensive car. Victoria Sheridan had high society written all over her. So why didn’t she have any money on her? Or anyone to call for help? Another snuffle came from the other side of the door and Nate’s chest tightened. He wasn’t an expert but he’d bet someone had broken her heart. A warning signal went up in his brain.

Stay away from her. You can’t take on another problem, especially not a female with problems!

Nate had given his heart once and it had been shattered. Allison Denton, the girl he’d loved all through college, had walked out on him when he’d needed her the most. She’d suddenly lost interest in him when he was no longer headed toward a pro-football career.

Since then Nate had guarded his heart but good. Yet he knew he couldn’t turn away from someone who needed his help. He made a stomping sound on the porch before he opened the door and walked inside. “Looks like we’re all set.”

Tori had managed to brush away the tears, though her red eyes were proof of her misery. But nothing took away from her beauty.

“Look, Sheriff, you’ve helped me so much already, I can’t expect…”

“As I mentioned before, it’s Nate,” he reminded her as he set down the bucket and went to her. “Tori, I know this place isn’t a perfect solution—”

“No, it isn’t that,” she interrupted. “It’s just there are things that… I can’t talk about…”

He arched an eyebrow and jammed his hands into his pockets, fighting to keep from reaching for her. “And that’s your business. I just figure there’s a guy involved. And if you had a fight, shouldn’t you try and talk to him?”

She stiffened. “Whatever relationship I had in the past is over,” Tori said sternly. “And talking about it isn’t going to change anything.” She stepped back from him. “So thanks for the cleaning supplies. I can handle things now.”

Nate decided not to push it any further. He made his way to the sink to fill the bucket.

She came after him. “What are you doing?”

The hell if he knew. “Around here it’s called being neighborly. Let it go at that.”

Tori looked at him with those huge eyes and he had trouble keeping his mind on what he was doing.

“Do you always get your way?” she asked.

That was a loaded question since he wanted to get his way with her. “One can always hope.”

It seemed impossible, but in less than a few hours they’d made the place livable. The walls still needed paint, but at least the rooms were clean. With the fresh linen Sam had brought up, Tori had made the bed so she had a place to sleep that night.

Nate stood back and surveyed his work. “It’s still not the Ritz, but I think you’ll be comfortable here.”

Proudly, Tori glanced around the clean, orderly room. The bed was neat and tidy and her clothes were arranged in the dresser drawers. The window was covered with a mini-slat blind, now missing the layer of dirt. The kitchen area had a chipped counter with two stools, a cabinet with mismatched dishes and a drawer of assorted flatware.

“This seems like paradise to me. Remember, I slept in my car last night.”

“Which I’m going to advise you not to do again,” Nate warned her. “You were lucky.”

“I’m lucky in a lot of ways. I have a place to live and a job.” She frowned. “But, Nate, I’ve never been a waitress before.”

He shrugged. “Sam’s pretty easygoing. He’s not going to yell at you if that’s what you think. Besides, I have a feeling you’ll catch on fast.” His gaze met hers. “What did you do in San Francisco?”

Tori didn’t want to say too much about her past life. It was nice that no one here knew her father. “I was an executive assistant for a software company.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, there aren’t any software companies around here. The closest would be in Tucson.”

“Believe me, I’m happy to have this job. I’m just nervous because…” She had never worked for anyone but her father, she thought. Lord, she’d led a sheltered life. “I’m new in town.”

“Well, I grew up here and everyone is pretty friendly.”

Including the town’s handsome sheriff, Tori thought. “We’ll see tomorrow morning when I mess up the food orders.”

His gaze grew softer. “Believe me, once you smile no one’s going to care what you put in front of them.”

At five forty-five the next morning, Tori checked her red-trimmed white uniform in the mirror. The fifties-style outfit had a fitted bodice and an A-line skirt that hit her just about at her knees. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and brushed her bangs across her forehead. On her feet, she wore the pair of new white tennis shoes she had purchased the day before.

If her father could see her now. No doubt he would feel this job was beneath a Sheridan. She might have thought the same thing a few weeks ago, but now she needed to survive in the real world.

Tori released a long breath to relax, but it didn’t calm her. She left the rest room and went to the counter where Sam, dressed in white uniform pants and T-shirt, was checking the coffee.

“You ready to start?”

“No!” she said. “I can’t remember everything you showed me.”

“I don’t expect you to,” he said. “There’s a lot to know.” He frowned at her. “Just remember to call out each order to me, except for the drinks. You get those. When the customers come in, just keep the coffee flowing. You’ll do fine.”

Tori nodded as Sam walked over and unlocked the café door. Within seconds several men came in and called out in greeting to Sam. She put on a smile to hide her terror. The men removed their cowboy hats and found seats at the counter.

“Hey, everyone, this is Tori. And don’t give her a bad time. I’d like her to stay around awhile.”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she piped in as her face flamed. “How about some coffee?” She grabbed the glass pot and brought it to the patrons, filling the mugs that already lined the counter, and then took out her pen and notepad. “What would you like for breakfast?”

The orders came fast. Just as Sam had taught her, she called each order back to the kitchen. More customers arrived and squeezed into the booths. That was when Tori realized that she was out of shape. The two days a week she’d spent in the gym hadn’t readied her for this workout. She covered what seemed like miles between taking orders, refilling coffee cups and clearing tables. There were a few mishaps—broken dishes, mixed-up orders—but everyone was patient and friendly. Finally, around nine-thirty, the crowd thinned and Sam told her to take a break.