Page 31 of Priceless
He sent her the exact address like any good AI would, then shifted his arse down the street behind, hurrying to get to the place before she did. He’d love nothing more than to call Vonnie and tell her to be on her best behavior, but that would only make her ornery. Whatever Laira was about to see at Jocko’s pub would be the truth. There was no more cleanin’ to be done. The newest menu had to be good enough. There really was nothing to do but ride it out.
He hurried around the end of the block and back to Post Office Avenue, to slip in through the back. Lars and Trenton never looked up from the stovetops. Brandon was already elbow deep in dishes. Vonnie passed by the doorway but didn’t look in.
Great luck that.
He hurried up the back steps to remove his new jacket, then came down the same way. Suddenly that doorway to thefront of housemade his stomach clench. There might as well be spotlights aimed at it. If he so much as crossed a toe over the line, someone would shout outJocko, and expose him!
He stepped close, looked out, and located Vonnie. The bell above the door clanged and he froze. She glanced at the door, then back at him. One look at his face and she came running.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need a favor.”
“Anythin’ ye can afford?”
“Vonnie. Quickly, now. I want ye to go about the room and ask all the locals, quiet-like, to call me Jacob today. I’m not Jocko, do ye hear?”
Vonnie’s pierced brows came together in a look of pure pity. “Not feelin’ yerself, are ye?”
He sighed. “Somethin’ like that. Just do it, aye? I’ll not come out until ye’ve finished. And as others come through, give ‘em the news.”
“Ye want me to tell everyone–”
“Just the locals. Aye.”
“They’ll think ye daft.”
“I dinnae give a shite, Vonnie. Now, do it…if ye please.”
She shrugged, as if to say it was his funeral.
He stood with his back braced against the doorframe, waiting for Vonnie to finish her first round of damage control, listening closely so he could hear her progress. A lot of hushed whispers. A few outright guffaws. And slowly but surely, the bar grew more silent, as if his patrons preferred not to speak at all if they weren’t allowed to call him Jock.
“Excuse me,” a woman said, standing just at his shoulder.
He turned to find the very woman he’d been stalking standing right there. Not three feet separated them.
“Can you point me to the restroom?”
She wore a pale blue blouse under a long white jumper with a loose weave that would catch on anything at all. She wore denims, and her boots—if that’s what they were—came to a sharp blue point. Cowboy boots, maybe. Wee gold daisies hung from her ears with diamonds in the centers. A matching necklace lay flat against the blouse.
Her mouth, pale pink. When she fidgeted with the edge of her sweater, he caught a flash of white and gold on her nails. Her hair was the same mix of colors as the photographs he’d saved to his phone, blond and gray and gold. Looked as soft as down feathers. Her eyes were dark, her eyelashes thick and blinking at him.
“The loo,” Lars shouted behind him, when he didn’t speak up. “She’s lookin’ fer the loo!”
Jacob tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. Shock left his face frozen. But he could move his arm, so he raised it and pointed to the left. At the last second, he even managed to lift a finger.
“Thanks.” Her eyes crinkled in the most darling smile before she moved off down the hall.
Once she disappeared, he turned back to the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe once more. This time, to keep his legs under him.
Vonnie shimmied past him from the front, then stopped to stare. “Are ye droolin’? Good God, man, yer aff yer heid!”
Maybe, if he’d rolled his eyes and walked away, she wouldn’t have noticed his new clothes. But he was still suffering from nerves. Laira was there, in his bar, at that very moment! All the chatting and teasing had paid off!
All the lying too. A right grand ruse, he’d played. And now…
What? What the devil did he do now?
