Page 27 of Castaway Whirlwind
“But you can never tell anyone who lives in this town or is associated with law enforcement.”
His mouth parts, taken aback. “What does the law have to do with it?”
“That’s my only condition. Take it or leave it.”
“Well, I mean, yes, I will, but—”
I jump out of the truck and jog across the lot, though I know Russell will be right behind me. I place his order with the kitchen before I head to the employee area to stuff my bag in my locker, and I carry his breakfast to him on my return, ignoring him and his unspoken questions throughout his meal.
When I bring Russell his check, I tell him, “I’m free tomorrow morning at nine. Does that work for you?” It’s a Saturday, which hopefully means he’s not needed at the warehouse. If I have too much time to think about it, I’ll probably back out, so it needs to happen now.
“I’ll make it work,” he says, pulling cash from his wallet.
This time, I pocket his tip without argument to thank him for being there for me this morning. I’ve just turned to check on another one of my tables when I stop and stare at Russell. “Were you following me this morning?”
He must have been. It’s the only way to explain him being behind me, arriving to help before I even got the chance to call anyone, when he lives far outside of town in the opposite direction of the diner.
Russell stands. “I’ll drive you home after your shift.” Then, he simply walks out.
He might have ignored my question, but I have my answer all the same.
Russellwasfollowing me this morning.
Next question is: how often does he do it?
And why?
* **
Russell had all new tires put on my vehicle and then had it inspected for any other signs of tampering. It was delivered shortly after he drove me home from the diner, so thankfully, I didn’t have to call him or anyone else for a ride to his house Saturday morning.
I whistle when I turn down the long paved driveway, driving about a quarter-mile through the trees before the clearing opens. Russell’s house, painted a surprisingly modern black, is centered behind a U-shaped driveway, though his dually is parked to the right of the house in front of the detached three-door garage before the driveway had split in two.
In all the years I’ve known Russell, I’ve never once been to his house. All the company-wide parties he’s had, which I always went to with Steven, were held at the warehouse or a rented venue since he has so many employees. At least, that’s what I thought. But his property is nearly as big as BT’s and can accommodate everyone, so I wonder why he keeps himself secluded way out here instead of letting people in.
I tighten the belt of my white silk robe—part of my new uniform—when I get out of my car, staring up at the two-story structure almost as large as my entire apartment complex. Above the glass double front doors is a massive dormer that reminds me of an old country church. Three stone steps as wide as my car lead up to the covered front porch, also made of stone, spanning the entire house. It’s like one of those expensive vacation homes you see on the lakes, and it takes my breath away.
All this time, I knew Russell must have been doing well as the owner of a successful national freight company that’s stillgrowing, but I didn’t know he wasthiswell off. Maybe the money he’s spent on me is just a drop in the bucket of what he’s amassed over the years, and I’m starting to feel a little foolish for thinking I’ve been taking advantage of him all this time.
No. No. I can’t think like that.It doesn’t matter how much money Russell has. He earned it by working hard and building his business from the ground up. None of it was given to him, and it’s certainly not mine for the taking just because he’s taken a strange interest in my well-being.
Russell swings open the right side of the front doors by the time I’ve made it onto the second step, waiting for me. He probably heard the belt squealing in my car the moment I turned onto his driveway. I wonder how long he’s been at the door, staring at me while I stared at his house.Watching me.
He’s dressed in his comfy, light-wash blue jeans and a loose, thin flannel, the sleeves rolled up his burly forearms, and bright white socks. Russell’s lips part when he sees the white cowgirl boots I’m wearing as soon as I finish stepping onto the porch.
I couldn’t decide between the cute farm girl look or wearing heels for a sexy seductress type, not sure which he would find more appealing. But I know I’ve made the right choice when he takes his time dragging his gaze up when I cross the distance, and he leans forward instead of away to let me inside before jerking back. He clears his throat but only sweeps his arm, motioning for me to enter, neither of us having said a word yet.
* **
Russell
Words.
I need to find them.
Can’t.
Layla.
