Pining For You: Jasper Falls Page 8
She stocked the pantry with the basics, splurged on produce from the farmer’s market, and went to the butcher for some cheap cuts of meat she could disguise with fancy side dishes.
A whirlwind of efficiency, she managed to do all the shopping, drop Addison’s white coat off at the cleaners, swing by her Aunt Colleen’s to grab a jar of Italian Mary’s sauce, and get everything back to the house and unloaded before the snow truly started to stick.
Addison was getting cranky and Skylar figured she could probably use a nap, but naps weren’t something the child was accustomed to.
“But it’s daytime,” she whined.
Skylar pulled the curtains closed in her bedroom, blocking out the sunlight. “I understand. But if you want to stay up and see Daddy tonight, you need to rest.”
“I’m not tired!”
It hadn’t taken long to realize Addison was used to getting everything she wanted and, often, spoiled as a supplement to actual structure. Skylar couldn’t work like that.
“Today we’re starting a new routine. This is quiet time. You can come down in one hour, and I’ll have everything ready in the kitchen so we can make dessert for tonight.”
Purple moons showed under her big brown eyes. Despite her objections, Addison slouched on her pillow. Her bedroom was decorated like something out of a magazine, giant plush animals spilling out of tiny chairs, a perfect tea set arranged for her dollies. Princess costumes hung from silk hangers, and her library was large enough to supply a school.
Skylar selected an old favorite from the shelf. “I love this story. How about we read it?” The book creaked as if it had never been opened and she wondered if the stories were as unused as the clothing in Addison’s closet.
Lowering to the mattress, she sat on the edge of the bed and drew the covers over Addison’s shoulders. “In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon…”
By the time she reached the middle of Goodnight Moon, Addison’s eyelids were heavy. She slowly blinked, listening to the story and fell asleep before the last few page when Skylar whispered, “Goodnight stars… Goodnight moon…”
She quietly shut the book and left it for Addison to look at later, then backed out of the dim room.
Skylar was grateful for the break. It gave her time to freshen up, explore the house, and get more oriented with her new home.
Creeping through the second floor, she peeked through doorways and mentally catalogued each room. She wondered why she wasn’t given one of the more luxurious guest rooms, but she supposed she was the help, and they wanted to keep their personal space private for the weekends and other family time.
At the end of the hall, where the master bedroom was located, she stood outside the tall double doors. She wanted to see what was on the other side, but knew this was Mr. Buchanan’s private space.
Her hand reached for the ornate handle and she paused. What if he had cameras?
She glanced at the ceilings and walls, not seeing any sort of surveillance. The house was old, so she didn’t suspect it was wired for top secret spying. And this was Jasper Falls, after all.
Turning the knob, the latch clicked open. Cool air swept over her face as she crossed the threshold and stepped into the shadows.
A masculine scent, mixed with traces of soap, clung to the air. The furniture was carved, heavy wood, and the linens were midnight blue. The walls, papered in a gold and navy demask, suited the room for a king.
In the corner, a cherry wood secretary desk stood open. Tiny compartments and drawers held stationary, but there wasn’t much paperwork scattered about. Just a notepad with an address scribbled on it, and a ledger of some sort. She scanned the numbers and frowned.
* * *
$1150 Rent
$425 Back Rent
$677 Medical
$82 Rx
$2,456 Collections
$96 Septa Pass
$82 Rx
$4,892 Brightview Treatment Center…
* * *
The list of expenses went on and on, but she didn’t understand who was charging such things. There were countless prescription charges and medical bills, and very expensive treatment centers. Was someone sick? Perhaps Mr. Buchanan’s parents?
* * *
She shouldn’t have come in here. Backing out of the room—
* * *
She paused, her gaze snagging on something familiar.
Drifting across the carpet, she stared at her scarf, neatly folded and resting on the corner of his night stand. The pillows still wore the indentation from his head. Why was her scarf in here?
It belonged to her. Should she take it?
* * *
She couldn’t, not without alerting him that she’d trespassed into his room. What was she doing?
Without touching anything, she quietly shut the door and turned—“Mr. Buchanan.”
* * *
Her heart plummeted to her feet and she gasped.
* * *
“Skylar?” His gaze trailed down her front, dropping to her hand.
* * *
She followed his gaze and regret squeezed her insides as she stared at her hand still holding the knob of his door.
6
Skylar’s bones seemed to shrink within her skin. It was as if her body was literally trying to implode through a blackhole and disappear. “I, uh, was looking for the towels.”
It was clear he knew she was lying. She saw the awareness in his eyes. He knew it. She knew it. There was no covering the truth. Caught snooping, red handed. Ugh, he should just fire her now and get it over with.
Crossing the hall, he opened the door to the laundry room and removed a stack of white fluffy towels from a basket. “Where’s Addy?”
“Addy?” She couldn’t move. She was still standing with her back against his bedroom doors, the lingering scent of his morning shower still stuffed up her traitorous, snooping, nosey nose.
“My daughter, Addison.”
“Oh, Addison. She’s napping.”
His stern, censoring stare was replaced with surprise. “Is she?” Surprise morphed into concern. “Was she feeling all right?”
She nodded. “Four-year-olds need naps.”
“And she went down for you okay?”
She nodded again. Any second now, he’d remember she was outside of his door and fire her. “I read her a story and we had a busy morning.”
“So, things are going well?”
They were. She swallowed. Should she just admit she’d been doing something bad and face the consequence?
Would he reprimand her? Punish her? Spank her? Dear God, where the holy hell had that image come from? She dropped her head back against the door and looked up, pleading for some sort of divine intervention to deliver her out of this mess.
He held out the stack of towels.
She took them and pulled the soft material to her chest. What the hell had he asked? Oh, if things were going well. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
She panicked. “Yes…sir?”
His jade eyes darkened emerald as his pupils swelled. Oh shit. Maybe she pissed him off. “You asked if things were going well.”
His head jerked and he breathed out a laugh. “Right. Sorry.”
Now he was apologizing? She was the one who owed him an apology. “Mr. Buchanan—”
“Rhett.”
Her throat had narrowed to a pipe cleaner. “Rhett…”
The longer he stared at her the harder it became to speak. “Skylar.”
“Yes?”
“I need to get something out of my bedroom.”
It finally happened. She was as certifiable as the rest of her family. Ducking out of reach, she moved to the adjacent wall. “Sorry.”
The side of his full lips quirked into a half grin and disappeared inside the master bedroom. A moment later, he returned to the hall, holding a blue checkbook she recognized from the desk.
“I shouldn’t be too late tonight. You can exp
ect me a little after seven.”
He wasn’t going to fire her? “We’ll see you then.”
“Perfect. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
He took the winding staircase with a youthful pace that didn’t quite match the impression Erin gave of him earlier.
When the front door closed, Skylar exhaled all the breath she’d been holding and deflated, sliding down the wall until her butt hit the floor. She rolled to her side and smooshed her face in the pile of towels then groaned. “I’m such an idiot.”
She definitely underestimated her mom, aunts, and grandmothers.
“It smells like fire!” Addison scrunched her nose and fanned away the smoke bellowing out of the oven.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”
“Ooooh, you said shit!”
Skylar removed the charred casserole from the rack and tossed it onto the stove. “Well, don’t repeat me!”
Addison angled her head and stretched her neck to better see the ruined dish. “You killed it.”
Skylar sighed. Cooking was not supposed to be this difficult.
She glanced at the time. It was almost seven—not enough time to make something new, and no possibility of fixing the burned casserole. “Shit.”
“You said shit again.”
“Stop repeating me!”
“Then stop saying potty words!”
“Sorry.” Skylar rubbed a hand through her sweaty hair. Lifting Addison off the counter, she said, “Go get your shoes. We’re running out.”
It was dark and the roads were wet with slush and snow. Luckily, Jasper Falls was only four miles long, so they didn’t have far to go.
“Are we eating here?” Addison asked as they parked outside of Vincenzo’s.
“No, we’re just picking something up.” She’d called ahead and told her Aunt Angela it was an emergency.
The front windows of the restaurant fogged with oregano and garlic scented steam. The heat drew them inside, and the sound of Dean Martin crooning from the speakers made her feel right at home—something she hadn’t felt all day.
Skylar momentarily wondered if it was a mistake, leaving the familiarity of family and venturing into this new job. There was a good chance that Mr. Buchanan might still fire her. Maybe he just didn’t want to do it in the middle of the day and be left stranded without child care. Maybe he was waiting for Erin to do it, since she seemed to claim hiring and firing as her forte.
Aunt Nicky’s head poked through the kitchen window. “Hey, your order’s not finished yet.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and yelled, “Sky’s here. Where are my chicken cutlets?”
“Well, well, well, look who’s returned.” Her grandfather, dressed in black, flour-dusted pants, a white tank top, and a sauce-stained kitchen apron, appeared. The gray hair on his chest was so thick and wild, it also carpeted his shoulders. Gold chains glinted under the florescent lighting as he stepped into the front dining room.
“Who’s this little bellezza?”
“Hi Pop. This is Addison. Addy, this is my grandfather, Vincenzo.”
“The Vincenzo?”
Her grandfather nodded. “This is my place. Here. You taste this.” He snatched a pizza fritta knot from under the glass display and sprinkled it with sugar.
Addison accepted the offering and sniffed it before tasting. Her face lit up when she chewed.
“Good?” Pop asked and she nodded. He narrowed his eyes at Skylar. “So, you’ve come back?”
“I had a kitchen emergency.”
“Everyone comes back. They say they want to leave, but in the end, they always return. You know why? Because you can always count on family.”
Her grandmother, Camilla, appeared carrying a large box of food. “Leave her alone, Vincenzo.” She slid the box onto the counter. “I put a piece of cardboard between the salads so they don’t get hot, but don’t leave them in there for too long.”
“Thanks, Nonna.”
“She’s paying for that. We don’t feed outsiders for free,” Pop said.
He made no secret of his disapproval. Not only did he prefer his daughters and granddaughters working in the family business, he openly despised Rhett Buchanan, the man who single-handedly beat him in the last election.
“Get back in the kitchen,” Nonna snapped as she punched something into the register. As soon as Pop grumbled his way through the swinging door, the register opened and she slammed it shut. “I’ll still give you a little discount—just between us.”
Aunt Angela appeared and Aunt Nicky followed. “So, how is it?”
“What’s he like?”
Skylar shrugged. “I’m still getting settled. And to be honest, he’s a little intimidating at times. I don’t know how to read him.”
Nicky tipped her chin toward Addison, who was drawing pictures in the steam on the front window. “That the rug rat?”
“That’s Addison.”
“She’s cute. Is she good?”
“So far I haven’t had any major problems.”
“Make sure they pay, Camilla. That man doesn’t deserve my food,” her grandfather’s voice yelled from the kitchen window.
“Get out of here!” Nonna snapped, then punched a few keys in the register again. “Forty-two-ninety-one.”
Skylar inwardly winced. It was more than fifty percent off, but still a lot for one meal. She really needed to improve her cooking skills.
Reaching into her purse, she removed her debit card and handed it to her grandmother. The three women glanced at it and scowled.
“Why are you paying for their dinner?” Nicky asked.
Skylar flushed and lied, “I get reimbursed.”
The truth was, she already spent the grocery budget and burned tonight’s dinner, so she had to make things right. She didn’t plan on telling Mr. Buchanan about it.
“I should hope so!”
“And really, Skylar,” Nonna said, ringing her out. “You should be preparing meals yourself. You know how to cook.”
“I know. It’s just the first day.” She couldn’t afford takeout, anyway, not on the grocery allowance Mr. Buchanan was providing.
She gathered the box and her aunt held the door, walking them out to the car. “Watch the snow. It’s slippery.”
Once she had Addison buckled and the food secured on the back seat, she faced Nicky. “What?”
Her aunt, who was only in her late twenties, smiled. “What’s he like?”
“I haven’t really interacted with him. He’s always busy.”
Her eyes rolled back. “He’s so sexy. You should really mention that you have a single aunt.”
Actually, Skylar had three, but that didn’t matter. “I think he’s sleeping with his personal assistant.”
Her dreamy expression twisted into revulsion. “Who? Erin Montgomery?”
“Yeah.”
“No way. Ugh, that just knocked him down a rung.”
“Do you know her?”
“She used to date your Uncle Finn.”
Skylar’s eyes bulged. “Erin did?”
“Yeah, before Aunt Mallory came around. She was horrible to him. And I’m pretty sure she slept around behind his back.”
“Do you think she knows I’m Finn’s niece?”
“I’m sure. There isn’t much that gets past her. God, I can’t imagine him hooking up with that witch. He can do so much better.”
Skylar wanted more details about the woman tied to her boss’s life, but she was running out of time and had to get back. “You’ll have to fill me in on her later.”
“Definitely.” Aunt Nicky kissed her cheek and instructed her to drive safe.
On the way back to the mayor’s house, she couldn’t stop thinking about how revolted her aunt looked at the mention of Erin. It actually helped, because after their interaction that morning, Skylar felt a little off-kilter. She sensed something passive-aggressive hiding under her surface, but couldn’t figure out why Erin disliked her when they only just met.
&n
bsp; Now, it made more sense. It wasn’t Skylar. It was her family. Strangely, she could accept that. Her family could be a lot at times.
They made it back to the house, and she had everything transferred to serving dishes and on the table when Mr. Buchanan arrived. He entered the dining room and stilled, seeming surprised to find the table set.
“Wow.”
“Daddy!” Addison charged out of the kitchen and catapulted into her father’s arms.
“Look at you!” He kissed her cheek and hoisted her onto his hip, inspecting her hair and outfit. “You’re all dressed up.”
“Skylar did my hair.”
“I can tell. It’s beautiful.” He smiled and the expression climbed all the way to his eyes. “I’m impressed.”
She didn’t know why his praise flustered her, so she ducked her head and mumbled that it was nothing as she put the chicken cutlets on the table.
He placed Addison in a chair and grinned. “This looks amazing. And it smells terrific.”
She fidgeted like a klutz and dropped a serving fork with a loud clatter, catching it awkwardly before it landed on the floor. She should confess she didn’t make the food. “Well, enjoy.”
“Wait a minute. You have to eat, too.”
She paused at the door, hesitating. This was his time with Addison and she had a sink full of scorched dishes to handle. “That’s okay—”
“Nonsense. Take a seat.”
“Yeah, Skylar, sit down,” Addison commanded with a bright smile. The nap had served her well today.
Before she could make another excuse, Mr. Buchanan gripped her shoulders and steered her toward the table. The weight and heat of his large hands frayed the last of her wits and she dropped into a seat without objection. It was the chair meant for him.