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The door behind him banged shut.
“Chair’s wet,” he said.
“Thanks for the heads up.” Mia skipped the chair and approached the railing that encased the deck. She leaned forward with her mug in her hands, her forearms on the wood. “I don’t come out here much. It’s nice.”
He lifted his mug. Streams of steam curled into the air and lifted the scent of French Roast to his nose. Taking a sip, he savored the bitter taste and the jolt of caffeine. “Yep.”
She turned to face him just as the glow of yellow light broke through the swirl of dawn. “What do we do now? I don’t think I’ll feel safe until this guy’s caught, but I can’t just press pause on my life until then.”
“Then don’t.” He didn’t have a guidebook on how to handle the shit life dealt. All he knew was to just put one foot in front of the other, come what may.
Chuckling, she shook her head. “Care to elaborate?”
He took another sip then cradled the mug on his lap. “You up for working this morning?”
She twisted her mouth to the side, causing her button nose to crinkle. “It’s better than sitting around and waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Agreed. I’ll let Brooke know we’ll be in to serve breakfast. We’ll see where things stand—how we’re feeling—then figure out the rest of the day.”
She sagged against the railing. “I like that. Get through one chunk of the day at a time. Makes it a lot more manageable.”
His phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. A text from Cruz waited for him. He opened the message. A zip of adrenaline combined with the caffeine and vanquished any lingering fatigue from his sleepless night.
“What is it?” Mia asked.
“Another victim’s been identified. Looks like we know what we’ll be doing after breakfast.”
9
Hurrying to get ready, Mia swept her hair into a stubby ponytail and threw on the first thing she found in her cluttered closet. Her standard outfit of black leggings and oversized shirt—long sleeved to combat the chill that had been in the air when she’d taken her coffee on the deck with Chet.
As she dressed, she marveled at how far she and Chet had come. Days before, she’d assumed he was just a mean man who chose to be grumpy. Who kept everyone at arm’s length, snapping and snarling because he didn’t want to let anyone in. Even those he appeared to have a good relationship with—Zoe, Cruz, Brooke—were all recipients of his sharp tongue.
But now she understood why he sought solitude. She had even learned why he’d been so dismissive of her in the kitchen. It had nothing to do with her or her skills, but everything to do with the pain it caused to see someone else taking his cousin’s place. Under all the layers of hostility laid a man with a broken heart—plain and simple.
And that man who’d given her such a hard time had invited her into his home to make her feel safe. Even now, he waited in her living room to calm her worry over being alone. A gesture that meant more than he’d ever know.
Not wanting to make him wait longer than necessary, she rushed down the hall to find him packing up Otto’s belongings. A punch of disappointment struck her as hard as a real blow. “I’ll be sad to see him leave.”
“I’m sure he’s sad to go,” Chet said, placing the now empty food dishes in a duffel bag. He surveyed the space, as if searching for anything he might have forgotten, and a flicker of curiosity sparked on his face.
She sighed, knowing exactly where his thoughts rested. “It’s sparse in here, but I have everything I need.” The day before she’d noted Chet’s nice belongings that filled his home. All things someone in their early thirties should have accumulated by now. A sturdy table for a family to gather around, furniture that wasn’t threadbare, comfortable rugs to warm up the space. The two apartments might be mirror images with their beamed ceilings, fireplaces, and stainless-steel appliances, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Although lacking a lot of personal touches, Chet’s place was an adult’s apartment with adult things whereas hers appeared as though she were a broke college student living off the bare necessities.
He shrugged, as if he didn’t understand what she was talking about, but he dropped his eyes to his shuffling feet. “Looks nice.”
“You’re a horrible liar.” She slipped on her shoes and stuffed her keys and phone in her bag before slipping it over shoulder. “I told you my ex took everything from me.”
He gaped. “You meanteverything?”
She pressed her lips into a tight line and nodded.
He let out a low whistle. “Sounds like a real winner. Any idea where he went?”
“Nope, and I don’t care. I’d rather start all over and never have to deal with him again. If I tracked him down and tried to get anything back, he’d find a way to make my life worse.” It had taken a lot of tears and personal growth to reach that conclusion, but she firmly believed she was better off to just move on and leave her past behind her. Chalk it up to a lesson learned the hard way.
Besides, when she finally earned enough money to start her restaurant, she’d accomplish her dream all on her own. Without an ounce of help from her scumbag ex, who probably would have attempted to take all the credit.
