A Secret to Shatter by Katie O’Connor
Chapter Six
“You might as well give up,” Honey warned Lacy. “I’m not telling you.”
“Come on, it’s not fair. I’d tell you.” Lacy whined, though Honey knew she was joking.
“Which is exactly why I won’t tell you. Sometimes, you let other people’s secrets slip.” She held up a hand, warning Lacy not to say anything. “Not on purpose. I get it. But my other employer is off limits.”
“I just want to know what you do and who you do it for,” Lacy grumbled.
Her friend was only half serious. They’d had this discussion on more than one occasion. “I do research on the internet and get paid for it. That’s all you need to know. All you can know.” Shoot, why had she added that bit? Nothing like a touch of intrigue to fuel an already insatiable curiosity. She focused on cleaning up the coffee preparation area, hoping Lacy would drop the subject.
“Oh, I get it. You’re a spy. What are you FBI? CIA?” Lacy’s eyes grew wide and her hands dropped to her sides.
“You do know this is Canada, right? We have CSIS, not CIA. And our RCMP is the equivalent of the FBI.”
“What’s CSIS?” Lacy asked her tone eager and excited.
“Canadian Security Intelligence Service.” Why had she let her guard slip at the worst possible time? She needed to be more cautious when she spoke.
Lacy’s eyes lit with excitement. “Exactly how do you know that? You are a spy, aren’t you? So freaking cool.”
Crap!“Do you honestly believe if I was a spy, or some kind of, I don’t know, government agent, I’d tell you? That would be insane.” She didn’t exactly work for the RCMP or CSIS, but she did work for the military as a civilian contractor in their counter-terrorism unit. She’d never admit the truth aloud. “I told you before, I work for a big organization and I signed a non-disclosure agreement when I started. So, if I did tell, I’d have to kill you,” she dropped her voice low to sound menacing.
Lacy’s laughter bubbled forth. “Right. Okay, I get it, you’re not a spy. But I’m still curious. If the gag order ever comes off, I want to hear all about what you do. Promise?”
Honey held out her baby finger. “Pinky promise.” She copied the gesture she’d seen elementary school kids use. A safe promise to be sure, her gag order was never coming off.
They latched fingers. Lacy tightened her grip and tugged Honey forward. “I swear if you’re a spy, I’m going to be annoyed.”
“Lacy, I promise, I’m an internet researcher. That’s all. End of story.” The lie rolled way too easily off her tongue. Only the importance of what she did kept her from revealing the truth. Lead balls rolled in her stomach. She hated lying. But she’d made a vow and she intended to keep it. She should have stayed in the city where it was easier to remain anonymous with several acquaintances and no close friends. She hadn’t anticipated becoming close to the citizens of Coyote Creek. A silly oversight, but one she’d live with now that she’d established herself here and made new friends. She loved her friends and would be lost without them, even if she had to keep her second career close to her chest.
“There is something you can tell me,” Lacy declared. “Tell me about your date last night.” She frowned. “You know I was interested in him, right? I heard you went out with Ira last night. The knitting circle was abuzz with the news. Mrs. Adelson was practically giddy that you are dating again.”
“I should have told you, but you had already left for the day when he asked me out. Honestly, I should have said no. I overstepped. Backing away and refusing him would have been the morally correct action knowing you are interested.”
“Meh. Doesn’t really matter does it? You gave me a chance to wait on him yesterday. And honestly, if he was interested in me, he’d have spoken up. I’ve served him dozens of times. Right? No harm, no foul. We’re good.”
“I appreciate that and I swear I’ll do better next time. I can’t believe you already heard about it. I guess I forgot about the speed that news travels here.” Which was ridiculous, because half of her secret job relied on rumor and gossip and her ability to follow a rumor to its source.
“Tell me something the gossips don’t know.”
“Okay, but this is just between the two of us. We went to Tuscan Gardens. Dinner was nice. Ira’s sweet and kind. We have a lot in common.” More than Ira knew because he was oblivious to her involvement with the military. More lies to make her stomach hurt. She pressed a palm to her tummy to still its jumping.
She knew the little she offered wasn’t enough to placate Lacy. “I let him walk me home.”
“Did you invite him up for a drink?” She gave a lewd wink.
“I did not. We said goodbye on the front step. And, if he asks me out again, I’ll say yes. I really enjoyed being with him. He’s smart, though he claims he was only a grunt. I expect he understates the importance of what he did. He’s too intelligent to be a grunt.” Her words bothered her innate sense of fairness. “Don’t take that wrong. I have nothing but respect for the military. I don’t believe soldiers aren’t intelligent…” she floundered to a stop and sighed. “Forget it. I can’t explain it. I think maybe he uses the term grunt to mean an ordinary foot soldier and distinguish himself from the higher ranks.”
Lacy smiled widely. “I understand what you are saying and I’m glad you enjoyed your date. It’s beyond time for you to get out there again. Did he try to kiss you?”
“He did not. I thought he might, but he didn’t.” She wouldn’t have let him kiss her, not on the first date, and certainly not on the front step in plain view. Mrs. Adelson lived in her building and she loved to wag her tongue. Honey’s ego would have liked it if Ira had tried. Instead, they’d shaken hands and he backed down the steps and watched until she went inside. It was sweet, chivalrous and very disappointing.
Lacy studied Honey until Honey began to feel uncomfortable. “But you wanted him to kiss you, right? ‘Cause I’d want him to kiss me. I can’t believe you stole him right from under my nose.”
“Hey, I told you to go for it, to take their orders. If you had, he might have asked you out. If you want him, I’ll back off. Friends don’t steal friend’s potential boyfriends.”
“I saw the way you both reacted when you shook hands. With electricity and heat like that, he’s meant for you, not for me. Go ahead. Date. You have my blessing.” Her words were strong and forceful, making it clear she bore no grudges.
“I do feel guilty for stealing your guy.” A simple statement which didn’t even come close to convoying the depths of her guilt. She felt it now, even if she hadn’t felt it last night.
“Relax, Honey. There will be other guys. Like for example, Mr. Suit and Tie. Over there, in the corner. He came in while you were in the kitchen.”
Honey picked up the coffee pot and turned to face the direction Lacy indicated. A thin blonde man sat in the corner, studying the menu. He wore what was obviously an expensive suit. “Mr. GQ?” Honey asked. “He looks like a stuffed shirt to me.”
“Don’t let the suit fool you. He’s smoking hot. He’s got the sexiest grin and the prettiest blue eyes. And, get this, his keys are for a Lamborghini. A frickin’ Lamborghini. Here, in Coyote Creek.”
“Wow. He must be passing through.”
“Don’t be silly, even the filthy rich don’t wear suits for long travel, and let’s face it, Coyote Creek is a long way from just about everywhere.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, he’s probably only here on business.”
“Hey, he’s here now and I’m going make him notice me. Who knows, maybe he’ll fall for me and whisk me away to some exciting foreign country.”
“Go for it! I’ll be here to back you up. Go. Flirt. Dazzle him. You’re worth it.” Lacy was adorable in her eagerness. It was fabulous that she let Ira go so easily. Sure, she’d talked about him, but over the months he’d been coming into the restaurant, she’d never once made a move and Ira had never shown any interest in Lacy. If either had, Honey would never have agreed to dinner. At least she hoped she’d be equally honorable.
“Go, take him coffee, take his order. Stop stalling,” Honey gave her friend an encouraging shove. “Snag that man.”
“Wish me luck!” Lacy grabbed the second coffee pot and sashayed toward her dream man.
Honey watched without seeming to, praying the man wasn’t a total jerk who would wound her friend’s loving heart. Lacy wasn’t great about approaching men, she fumbled badly around new men. Lacy eagerly approaching Mr. GQ was both encouraging and worrisome.
The door chimed and she glanced toward the sound. Ira and Flint wandered in, taking the first available table. She poured two coffees and headed their way.
“Flint, Ira, what brings you guys in at this time of day?” Eleven a.m. was an unusual time for either of them.
“We’re waiting on a supply order from the feed store and thought we’d grab a coffee.” Ira smiled at her.
“I wanted to go to the bakery and get a donut, Flint said. “But this guy insisted on coming here. He wants chocolate mousse, so here we are.” He spread his arms in a look at us gesture.
“Bummer, because we don’t have any mousse today. Can I get you something else, Ira?”
Flint glanced back and forth between them. “Oh. It’s like that is it?”
Heat rose in Honey’s face. “Like what?”
“He’s not here for mousse, he’s here for you,” Flint crowed. “I’m not getting my donut, so this better be worth it.”
“Stuff it, Flint,” Ira growled. “How can I resist the charm of the lovely ladies here at Tammy’s. Pretty and friendly. Besides, pie will be great. Whatever you’ve got is good for me. Want anything Flint?” he asked, without taking his eyes off Honey.
Unable to help herself, Honey smiled at Ira. The man was too cute for his own good, and for her sanity. Ira seeking her out after their date last night was sweet.
“I’ll have apple pie with a double scoop of ice cream, if it’s from the Scoop.”
“Isn’t it always?” Honey asked. “Does anyone in town serve anything else?” The Scoop was on main street beside Tuscan Gardens and specialized in ice cream, shakes, and sundaes. It was the brain child of a local dairy farmer looking for a way to increase income and add to the town’s tourism draw. Their ice cream was to die for. It outsold the major brands at the grocery store.
“Ira, are you sure you don’t want to choose your dessert?” She asked.
“I trust you implicitly. Bring whatever you think I’ll enjoy.”
“Okay,” she said warily. “I’ll figure it out.” Ira Castillo was different from the other men she knew. He seemed to trust her fully. Granted, it was only dessert, but most people had a favorite. Hers was the mile high chocolate cake with ice cream and whipped cream. She didn’t eat it often; her waistline definitely didn’t approve of the massive treat.
“Here you go,” she said a few minutes later, sliding their desserts in front of them. “One apple pie, one chocolate cake.”
“Wow, this looks incredible, but it’s enormous. I can’t eat it all. Join me? We can share,” Ira offered.
“That’s an offer too good to pass up. Let me grab another fork.” She glanced around to be sure her customers didn’t need anything, hurried across the restaurant and was back in seconds, fork in hand. She slid into the booth beside Flint, across from Ira so she could watch him eat. Okay, it was really so she didn’t lean into him and give into the unbearable urge to touch him.
A man’s table manners told you a lot about him. If he was an untidy eater, you could expect him to be messy in other areas. Ira was methodic and neat, but clearly passionate about dessert. It made her curious about kissing him. Would he kiss with the passion and care he put into eating cake? Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to find out.
They ate and chatted about nothing. “I guess I better go back to work,” she said after eating the final bite of Ira’s dessert.
“Us too,” Flint said. “Dad will be champing at the bit to get to mending fences. I don’t want to delay too long or he’ll start without us.”
“Don’t you mean chomping at the bit?” Ira asked.
“Actually, both are correct,” Honey declared, sliding out of the booth. “Champing means biting at. An anxious horse champs at the bit in his mouth. Over time, the saying morphed to chomping, although chomping implies eating while champing is just biting.”
“And you know that off the top of your head?” Ira asked.
“Yeah, I read a lot of weird stuff. Last month I was reading about horses and about commonly misquoted expressions. That one came up.” She shrugged. “My mind stores weird bits of information.”
“You’d be great at trivia games,” Flint said. “Remind me to invite you over for a round of trivia. I’ll bet you could beat Hannah. I know I can’t. My daughter has a crazy brain for random facts. She beats me so badly she won’t even play against me any more.”
“You’re on! I’ll put this on the ranch tab for you. Catch you both later.” She turned to walk away.
“Honey,” Ira’s voice rang out. “Got a second? Flint, I’ll meet you in the truck.”
Flint nodded and left.
“What can I do for you, Ira?”
“Can I cook dinner for you this weekend? Saturday? I’ve just moved into my new house. I’d like to have you over as my first guest.”
The invitation sparked a hundred questions. Why didn’t he invite his friends? Did he have friends? Why didn’t he invite Robert? Or the rest of the family? Why her? She considered the question. “Where do you live? I thought you were in an apartment over the bakery.”
“I was. I decided to get a place of my own. I bought a place out by Everly Bay. It’s not near the waterfront, but I like it.” Everly Bay was a new community on the lakeside, just out of town.
“Okay.” She scribbled her phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. “Text me your address and the time. I’ll meet you there.”
He opened his mouth and snapped it shut. “If you think it’s best.”
“I do. Thanks for understanding.” He didn’t look like he understood her need to be in control and to have an escape plan, but he accepted it and that was good enough. “Text me!” She hurried back to work, she’d already used up her coffee break sitting with him and Lacy was going to have questions for sure.