Page 20 of Evidence of Secrets

“I really enjoyed tonight, and I like you a lot.” Hank signed the check and looked over at her. “This just might be the beginning of something fantastic.”

Laura had a funny feeling Hank was right. Although she wasn’t sure if she should be scared or not.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Laura trudged up three flights of stairs after picking up her mail in the tiny lobby of her apartment building. The damn elevator was out of order—again. Her body was fighting the exhaustion after working ten hours and leaving at midnight, but it was good to be home.

Home. She loved that word.

Her small one-bedroom apartment was cheap, close to work, and hers. It didn’t matter that the building was a little run-down or that the air conditioner worked sporadically. It didn’t matter that she only had the basics in the kitchen or that the bathroom was so small that she couldn’t put more than her toothbrush on the sink. It also didn’t matter that her furniture was used. It was hers.

Laura moaned with relief as she toed off her shoes, then walked into the minuscule kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, collapsed on the love seat in the living room and put her feet on the small wooden table. She stared at the bookcase on the opposite wall. It was filled with pictures of her friends, her bistro and of family—well, of her mother and her. Laura didn’t have any family.

After living here for the last ten years, scrimping and saving every dime to invest back in her restaurant, her dream of owning a condo downtown was just that. The way money and food were walking out the door of her bistro, she’d be lucky to hold on to that dream.

She glanced over at the small stack of mail—really just bills—and noticed a hand-addressed envelope. The only time a hand-addressed envelope came her way was from Jimmy, the building’s owner. Her rent was paid, so that wasn’t a concern. What else could he want?

Open it or not? Laura was too tired to worry about another problem. Tomorrow it was. She put the envelope down, got up, changed into her pajamas, and got into bed. The bedroom was big enough for a double-size bed and an end table, period. Light filtered into the room from the streetlamps below, but she was too tired to close the drapes. Tomorrow was Sunday, and she didn’t have to work until lunchtime. Bridget Cassidy, her assistant manager, and Levi would open. Hopefully, no one would call out sick, so she wouldn’t have to fill in.

* * *

Laura wokeup to the sounds of cars honking. What the hell? It was Sunday. Didn’t people sleep in? She yawned and stretched, then lay in bed, going over her day. First up, breakfast or brunch, depending upon the time. She looked at her watch—ten o’clock. Okay then, brunch it was.

A couple of cups of coffee later, after eating a bagel smeared with cream cheese and topped with smoked salmon and capers, Laura was satisfied. There was nothing like relaxing in your home and not thinking about anything for a while. There was no dishwasher, so Laura washed her plate and cup and placed them on the shelf over the sink.

Sundays, Laura turned on the TV. Sometimes to watch a new cooking show or a new place to visit in Florida. Not that she had money or spare time to travel, but still. Laura picked up the remote, then glanced down at the mail she hadn’t opened. Jimmy’s note was still there.

Laura inhaled and let her breath out—no better time to open it than right now. Jimmy usually wrote to tell the other renters that they would be servicing the elevator or some other mundane task that had to be done.

She slit the envelope open and pulled out the lined paper. Read it. Placed it on the coffee table and groaned.

The building had termites and would have to be tented. Oh, there was also a possibility that it had structural problems. The tenants had to find a place to live for a couple of weeks while the fumigation was done and the professionals checked out the other issues. Damn, the cost to vacate was on the tenants. Management couldn’t afford to put anyone up. Great. Just great.

She had no extra money for a motel, hotel, or room. Laura supposed she could ask a friend if she could stay with them. She went through her list and realized no one had an extra room. Of her friends that had extra room, Hailey’s sister was in her guest room, and Sam’s loft was being used by a couple of employees. Claire was pregnant. She didn’t want to impose on her and Joe. Laura knew Sam or Claire would offer to pay for a hotel room, but Laura’s mom taught her early on not to accept charity. You either worked for what you needed or you went without.

Crap. Laura rubbed the back of her neck. What to do? She couldn’t sleep in her car. It wasn’t safe. The only other place she could sleep was in her office at the bistro. At least she’d have access to the restrooms but no shower. Yuck.

A tear slipped down Laura’s cheek. The bad luck just kept coming. When was it going to end?

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Mid-morning Monday, Hank walked out of KnightGuard Security into another humid day. He’d spent a week in Tampa guarding a controversial football player. Thankfully, there were no issues. The player had been on his best behavior.

He’d gone into the office to check on the security cameras at Salt & Sea. The outside cameras were working fine, but the one installed in the kitchen was on the blink. Laura hadn’t called it in, so she most likely didn’t know it wasn’t working. After checking with Sam, Hank took a replacement camera in case he couldn’t fix the other one.

The drive to Salt & Sea was about fifteen minutes away from the office. Traffic was light, since the snowbirds wouldn’t be down for another month. Hank hadn’t seen Laura in a week, and he was eager to catch up with her. They’d been out several times since their dinner at Four Winds. Laura amazed him. Each time they’d gone out, he learned something new about her that he admired.

She employed a couple of women from the shelter that were out on their own. Rather than toss the leftover food, a nonprofit center downtown benefited from the donation. Laura paid her employees a decent salary and paid for sick time. While she lived in a small apartment, she did so to fulfill her dream of opening a restaurant. His friends liked and admired her. It didn’t hurt that she was kind and let’s not forget, gorgeous.

The bistro was closed on Mondays. Hank had called Laura and asked her to meet him there. None of the employees knew about the hidden camera, and they wanted to keep it that way. Laura had to get a handle on the thefts.

When Hank called, she invited him to come around lunchtime and share a meal with her. That worked for him. Laura was one fine chef.

* * *

Laura brushedher teeth in the bistro’s restroom and returned to her office. She’d been living in it for a couple of days. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she didn’t have to worry about spending money she didn’t have on a place to stay. She rolled up her sleeping bag and tucked it in the closet with her suitcase and clothes.

After taking stock of what was available in the huge refrigerator, Laura pulled out prosciutto, blue cheese, tomatoes, grilled onions, and ricotta. She knew they had baguettes. Working quickly, she made a lemon-ricotta spread for the toasted French bread. There were leftover bacon-wrapped shrimp from last night that she’d place on top of the spread, sprinkle with chives—voilà, crostini with shrimp. As for the main dish, she’d make paninis with the other ingredients. Dessert would be salted caramel brownies.

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