“So you’re off tonight. When do you work again?” I ask. I don’t know much about her, but I want to change that. I hope getting to know her better will ease this infatuation I have with her.
“I’m off tomorrow. I usually work two shifts a week with At Your Service Catering, but they had a party cancellation, so they don’t need me.”
“How do you manage three jobs?”
“The cleaning gig I just fill in from time to time. It’s nothing that’s consistent. The catering job was my first when I moved to Willow River. They took a chance on me, and well, I hate to give them up altogether. That’s also where I met Palmer. I also work five days a week. Wednesday thru Sunday at the Willow Tavern.”
She went over this a little at the photo shoot, but I feel as though I wasn’t giving her my undivided attention. Not when my hands were all over her. “If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” I ask. Surely working at the Willow Tavern isn’t her ultimate job. There is nothing wrong with it if it is, but something tells me it’s not.
“Well, I… um, actually, I have a bachelor’s degree in political science. I’ve just never used it.” She swallows hard. “My father was strict and insisted I start college classes post-secondary while in high school. I didn’t mind it. I preferred it actually. I’d rather stay in and study than have to pretend with my fake friends, and the guy they insisted I date. I graduated early.”
“First, I’m sorry. I hate that you had to deal with fake people, and a guy you didn’t like. I hate even more that it was at the hands of your father. Second, congrats on graduating early. That’s awesome. Why have you never used your degree? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“It wasn’t something that I wanted.” She doesn’t give me any more than that, and I don’t push her. I want to, but something tells me asking for more would just make her clam up.
“Did you always want to be a lawyer?” she asks, her body suddenly stiff.
“Well, to hear my parents tell it, yes.” I laugh. “I was the king of arguing with them and my middle sister, Piper, when we were younger. Not so much with Palmer. She was eight when I left for college.” Just another reminder that this woman is too damn young for me.
“So, you’re ten years older than Palmer?”
“I am.”
She nods. “That makes you what? Thirty-two?” she asks.
“Yep. I’ll be thirty-three in October. You?”
“I’m twenty-two. I’ll be twenty-three in August.”
She just confirmed what I already knew. I’m too damn old for her. There’s a devil sitting on one shoulder telling me that age is just a number, and the angel on the other telling me we can only ever be friends. It’s exhausting the way my mind keeps floating back and forth between the two.
“So? Being a lawyer?” She steers the conversation back to her question.
“When I started college, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I knew that I wanted a degree. I wanted a career where I didn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck. My parents worked their asses off to raise the three of us, and at times money was tight, and I knew I wanted better. I wanted to be able to support a family should my future wife decide she wanted to stay home and raise our kids.”
“You were thinking about a wife and kids in college?” Surprise is evident in her voice.
“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t ready right then, but I knew I wanted a family like my own one day. What about you?”
“I… didn’t grow up that way. My parents were not as lenient with my choices.”
“Meaning they controlled your life?” I ask, reading between the lines.
“Pretty much.” She sighs. “I’ve never really been allowed to think for myself. At least not until I moved to Willow River.”
“How’d you convince them to let you do that?” I ask. She’s quiet. When I glance over, she’s wringing her hands together in her lap. On instinct, I reach over and cover them with mine. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
“No. I want to. I just don’t really talk about them.”
“Then you don’t have to.”
She turns to look at me as I pull into the parking lot of Momma Joe’s. “My dad’s a lawyer too,” she says softly. “He’s- You’re not like him.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
She swallows hard. “It’s a good thing, Deacon.”
“Good.” I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Sit tight. I’ll get your door.” I pull the keys from the ignition, climb out of the truck, and race around to her door. Once I have it open, I offer her my hand to help her down, and my palm again finds its way to the small of her back as I guide her inside.
I don’t know what the deal is with her and her parents, but I hate the look that it puts on her face. It’s my new mission tonight to bring her smile back.
seven
Ramsey
The heat of his palm resting against my back penetrates through the thin fabric of my company-issued polo. I can’t believe that I agreed to have dinner with him dressed like this. He’s quite possibly the sexiest man on earth. I’m feeling frumpy next to him with my hair piled in a knot on top of my head, my leggings, polo, and tennis shoes. Not that it matters. Deacon is just being nice. No way would a man like him be interested in me.
Not that I want him to be. I’ve had my fill of men, lawyers in particular. Although, I must admit that Deacon doesn’t act at all like my father or my ex. Then again, I don’t really know him. I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I knew instantly that Robert was not a good guy, but never once have I gotten that vibe from Deacon. He reminds me of my cousins—just a laid-back guy.
I almost argued the fact that I couldn’t ride with him, but instead, I sent a message to my aunt Carol. I didn’t want to send one to Palmer, because I didn’t know how she would feel about me having dinner with her brother. Oh, who am I kidding? She’d be thrilled and probably be planning our wedding. I’m sure Aunt Carol is right behind her, but I needed to tell someone where I was and who I was with.
Just in case.
Speaking of Aunt Carol, my phone vibrates in my purse. “I’m sorry, I need to make sure Aunt Carol doesn’t need me,” I tell Deacon as we take a seat.
“Of course.” He smiles kindly, and it’s a smile that I feel I can trust. Pulling my phone out of my purse, I read Aunt Carol’s reply.
Aunt Carol: Thank you for letting me know. Have fun on your date. He’s a good guy, Ramsey. You have nothing to worry about. However, it’s always good to let someone know where you’re going to be. Be safe, sweet girl, and have a good time.
Me: Thank you. It’s just dinner. I think he’s being nice to me because I’m Palmer’s best friend. I’ll text you when we are on our way home.
I go to put my phone back into my purse, but her reply is instant.
Aunt Carol: You’re beautiful, Ramsey. I have no doubt that’s why that young man asked you to dinner.