Page 82 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

He stopped stirring. The spoon sat in the pan.

“She’s been with me for a long time. Short of committing a crime, I would never fire that woman. She’s been through a lot.”

She picked up the sadness in his voice. “What happened to her?”

He took the pan off the heat, drained the fat and poured everything into the pot of simmering sauce. “Hang on, let me get this on. Can you pass me the milk and butter?”

She fished both from the fridge and handed them to him.

“These are my secret weapons. The milk tenderizes the meat, while the butter adds another layer of richness and depth.”

She watched as he added them and covered the pot with a lid. Setting down the wooden spoon, he wiped his hands on the towel that was slung over one shoulder and poured two glasses of wine, one that he handed to her.

“She came over from Hong Kong about forty years ago, when she was just a child. Her parents wanted to make a life for their family in the US and they invested everything they had into a carpentry business but not one year into its opening, her father had a stroke that left him paralyzed on one side. Her mother, could only find work in what was essentially a sweat factory. Since her father couldn’t do much physically anymore, and with medical bills mounting up, she slaved away.”

Jane took a sip of her wine, trying to picture what that life must have been like.

“When Kitty was old enough, she got her own job as a cleaner in a hotel. Although she worked hard, she kept being bypassed for promotions.”

“Why?”

Logan shrugged. “She never had time to socialize with her workmates, always having to rush home to look after her parents. She was always overlooked. I guess it’s like any industry, promotions and jobs tend to go to the most popular employees.”

Steam bubbled up from the pot, a slither of the sauce spilled over the side, scorching the stove. He turned down the heat.

“She was working at the hotel when I lived there on location for a movie. I was there for two months and she took care of the mess I made on a daily basis with no complaints. I’d left money, expensive watches, all sorts of things strewn around, but she never took so much as a dime.”

“One day, I came back early from the set to find her sobbing in the bathroom.”

He paused, his jaw clenching from the memory.

“Her mother was becoming more and more forgetful and Kitty had come home the night before to find that they had been burgled. What little money they’d had, had been stolen. They were going to be evicted, and she didn’t know what she was going to do.”

“So you hired her and the rest is history?” Jane didn’t mean to sound glib. Her heart hurt from all of Kitty’s family struggles. She wanted for their happy ending to come into play.

“Something like that. I gave her the guest house. She and her parents lived there until her father passed away. Her mother developed Alzheimer’s but she lives in a really great care home not far from here. Kitty sees her every weekend.”

The question was on the tip of her tongue and she almost stopped herself from asking it, but that warm and bubbling feeling was back.

And it needed an answer.

“It must cost a small fortune to keep her in a home around this area?”

“It’s all taken care of.”

The graceful way he didn’t take credit for paying for Kitty’s mother’s care left her breathless. He had a history of looking after needy women. In return, they stuck to him loyally.

She wondered if the same would apply to her.

The rest of the lasagna cooked slowly over several episodes of Frasier, which Jane discovered she loved almost as much as Logan. They laughed, sitting on the sofa, Loki between them, as the snobby brothers were continually bested by those around them.

When the buzzer announced that dinner was ready, Logan set a sizzling slice of the Italian dish in front of her and waited, a boyish look of expectation on his face. He picked up a forkful, bringing it to her lips. Her lips parted…

Sending ungentlemanly thoughts through his mind. How had he not noticed how sweet her lips looked before? Maybe because she usually looked anxious, as if she was second guessing her every reaction, hoping that it was the right one.

But right now, this was the most relaxed he had ever seen her.

Under the fairy lights that twinkled around them, with a glass or two of the wine having taken off those sharp edges of hers, she radiated warmth.

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