Valerie followed her into the kitchen. “How old is he?”
“Same age as me. Twenty-four.”
Valerie lowered her voice. “I thought he was younger than that. He’s not very big.”
“He’s five feet six and skinny as a rake,” Angie remarked. “He used to get picked on when we were kids. Maybe that’s why he grew up to be such a rabble-rouser.”
Angie and Valerie donned their serving aprons. Henry, the head cook, was chopping carrots on the counter by the stove. “Salmon specialtonight,” he called out. “Lemon-dill cream sauce and garlic mashed potatoes.”
“Sounds delicious,” Angie said. “We have the best chef in Valdez, right here.”
He waved his big knife at her. “And you are the best girl in Valdez named Angie.”
They laughed, and Valerie and Angie set to work dressing the tables with white tablecloths and candles.
“Jeremy said you’ve known each other since fifth grade,” Valerie mentioned.
“Yes. That’s when my family moved here from Arizona, and he’s been loyal to me ever since.” Angie unfolded a tablecloth and floated it onto a table. “But that’s mostly because of my mother. She worked in the grocery store, and one day, Jeremy was caught outside with a candy stick. Joe’s father was a cop back then and dragged him into the store by his coat collar to report his crime to my mom, who assured Frank that she’d given the candy to Jeremy. She didn’t, of course, but from that day forward, he would have done anything for her. And for me too.”
Valerie fetched a tray of cutlery rolled in cloth napkins. She began to place them on the tables. “Blaine told me it was best to stay on Jeremy’s good side. But that doesn’t seem right—that people should be afraid of provoking him. Already, I feel like I’ll be walking on eggshells every time I see him.”
“Don’t worry—you’ll be fine,” Angie said dismissively. “You work with me, and you work for Blaine, and Jeremy would do anything for that man. He’d give him the shirt off his back.”
Valerie still wasn’t entirely convinced she could throw caution to the wind where Jeremy was concerned. There was a look in his eye that gave her the willies.
“But he wouldn’t do that for your husband?” Valerie asked. “Because Jeremy didn’t seem too eager to talk to him today. That must be awkward if the two of you are friends.”
“Not really,” Angie replied as she rolled more napkins around cutlery. “Jeremy doesn’t move in our social circles—or any social circles, for that matter. So it’s not as if I hang out with him. We just talk sometimes if we bump into each other.”
Valerie carried another tray of cutlery to a table. “I’m not sure if I should tell you this,” she said, “but Joe was here looking for you earlier, and he seemed to be looking for Jeremy as well. He warned me to be careful around him. He used the worddangerous, and he said that if I saw him lurking, I should let him know right away.”
Angie let out a huff of frustration. “No, don’t do that. Joe just needs to relax about Jeremy. He wouldn’t hurt a flea. And I’m allowed to have friends. I can talk to whoever I want. It’s not like there’s anything going on between us.”
Valerie paused and turned toward Angie. “Is that why Joe doesn’t like him? Because he thinks there’s something going on?”
Angie groaned. “Oh, God, who knows? It’s not true at all, and I’m sure Joe knows it, but he likes to beat his chest and act possessive. It’s more about appearances, in my opinion. And his ego. He doesn’t want anyone seeing his wife talking to another man—especially the one who’s like a bothersome little horsefly he can’t swat away.” She gave Valerie a look. “That’s what I mean about Jeremy not knowing when to quit. He enjoys taunting Joe. Joe would drag him off in handcuffs if he could catch him. But Jeremy’s like a slippery little fish. It drives Joe insane.” She laughed softly at the thought, and Valerie wondered if Joe might have good reason to be suspicious of Angie’s friendship with Jeremy.
“How long have you and Joe been married?” Valerie asked.
“Two years, but we’ve been together since eleventh grade.”
“It must be nice to be with the person you love,” Valerie said.
Angie regarded her with sympathy. “You miss him, don’t you? That boy you left behind in Nova Scotia?”
“He’s the one who leftme,” Valerie reminded her. “And I’ll never forgive him, not as long as I live.”
She was still trying very hard to forget him.
Angie began to light candles on each table. “Well, I, for one, am glad you’re here. It’s nice to have someone my age to talk to. This is a small town, and everyone knows everyone’s business, and when your husband is the local cop, it’s even worse. Sometimes I’d like to just pack my bags and leave. I could sneak onto one of the supply ships and hide out in the hold. Become a stowaway, all the way to Seattle, and start fresh. Like you’re doing here.”
Valerie was surprised to hear Angie say such a thing. She was married and expecting a baby in the spring.
“But this is only temporary,” Valerie told her, wanting to steer the conversation away from babies on the way. “I’m not here forever. Next summer, I’ll make my way to New York or Hollywood. I want to be an actress or a singer. Or maybe both.”
Angie sighed dreamily. “I wish I could go with you. But knowing Joe, he’d probably hunt me down and drag me back by the hair.”
Valerie stopped what she was doing. “But he’s good to you, right? He wouldn’t ever hurt you?”
