Never Too Hot
Page 51
Arriving at the diner, he was amazed by its transformation. When he and Isabel were kids, the place had been a run-down teenage hangout. From where he was standing it almost looked like she'd rebuilt the whole damn place from the ground up. Why was he surprised? Even as a girl, she'd been remarkable. Smart and funny and talented. Not to mention so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.
She still was.
And it still did.
A crowd of people was gathering outside and when he caught snippets of conversation about how the diner was never closed at this time, Andrew wondered if something was the matter. A hand-printed sign on the door said, TEMPORARILY CLOSED — WILL OPEN SHORTLY.
And then he heard it, Isabel's voice, frustrated, a few random curses thrown in for good measure.
Before he could think better of it, he was crossing the street and going behind the building. Isabel was kneeling beside an open pipe that was pouring water out all over the parking lot, a wrench in her hands.
“Where are the mains?”
Looking up, her face twisted with surprise — and then annoyance. “Two feet from where you're standing. I couldn't get it to turn. Here.”
She threw the heavy wrench at him, and he grabbed it a split second before it hit him between the eyes. Another time, he'd be happy to let her get some much due satisfaction from taking her anger out on him with a hand tool, but right now he needed to get her water shut off before her well emptied out completely.
Someone had painted the valve closed and he had to bear down hard to get it to twist. Thankful that he was religious about going to the gym — otherwise he would have looked like the biggest loser in the world in front of the one woman he most wanted to impress — he cranked down on the valve until not even trickles were leaking out of the tap.
“Thanks.”
The word may have been grudging, but he knew he deserved that.
“You're welcome.” He tried to hold her gaze, tried to make her see how much he wanted her forgiveness, but she refused to look at him. “I'd be happy to head over to the hardware store for a new pipe, if you'd like.”
“This has happened before. I had the plumber leave me some replacements.”
“I'll do it for you.”
She didn't bother stopping as she walked through the back door. “No thanks. I saw how he did it last time. I can take care of it myself.”
But he couldn't let her go so easily. Not when he refused to believe that last night had been it for them.
“There's a line out on the sidewalk in front of the diner. You need to feed those people. I'll get your water up and running quickly. I know how to do this, I promise.”
At the word “promise” her eyes narrowed. Damn it, maybe that hadn't been the best word to use.
“Please, Izzy, let me help.”
“Isabel.” The door slammed.
Why couldn't he, just once, say the right thing?
But then the door opened again and Isabel dumped a plastic bag at his feet. “Don't screw it up.”
As the door slammed behind her again, Andrew smiled. Letting him fix her pipe wasn't a big deal, but it was something. A step in the right direction. And a hell of a lot better than being thrown off the property.
He'd take what he could get and he'd work from there.
A car pulled up in the parking lot and Ginger stepped out. After the way she'd found him yesterday at Isabel's house, pride made him want to walk away before she saw him. But that was what he would have done before.
What he'd done before hadn't worked. It was time to stop repeating the same screwed-up patterns and learn some new ones.
When Ginger was within hearing distance, he said “Good morning.”
She jumped. “You startled me.”
“Sorry. I'm just helping Isabel with some broken pipes.”
She frowned in obvious confusion. “Oh. That's nice of you.”
He took in the dark smudges beneath her eyes, her puffy eyelids. It would be easiest just to pretend he hadn't noticed. But then he remembered the way she had reached out to him at Isabel's.
“Everything okay?”
She wasn't a large woman, but up until now she'd struck him as steady. Solid. This morning, however, she seemed shrunken, looked like someone who'd just thrown in the towel.
She swallowed. Shook her head. “No. But I'll be fine.” She nodded toward the diner. “I'd better get in there.”
Why was she letting him help her, Isabel wondered? She could have fixed the pipes herself. And yet, her feet had carried her back inside, her hands had grabbed the pipes and given them to him.
She hadn't been lying to him yesterday. She wasn't going to forgive him.
Even if he redid the diner's entire plumbing system.
Her fry cook came in from the restaurant where he'd been guzzling his first Coke of the day. “People are about to riot out there. Can I let them in?”
Isabel nodded and moments later, a sea of grateful faces rushed in to take their usual a.m. seats. And although she knew that everyone inside the diner would surely be happier if she had water to make their breakfasts and coffee, nonetheless, a part of her hoped that Andrew wasn't able to fix the pipes. He'd always been handy, even as a teen. With cars, pipes, hammers. Just once, she wanted to see him fail at something.
But a few minutes later, when she momentarily forgot that the water was off and turned on the faucet, it ran beautifully.
Andrew had, once again, succeeded. He'd arrived unannounced like a knight on his shiny white horse to save the damsel in distress.
Damn him.
The orders poured in and soon every burner was covered and she was in the zone where the only thing she should be thinking about was the next order. And yet, every second she was on guard, waiting for him to come through the back door, triumphant. Expecting her thanks. Thinking they could forget everything that had been said.
But breakfast turned into lunch, and still he didn't come. Midway through the rush, the phone rang in her office. Scott picked it up and handed it to her, even though she was in no mood to be friendly to whomever was on the line.
“Blue Mountain Lake Diner. This is Isabel.”
“Oh great. I'm so glad I've caught you. My name's Dianna Kelley and I'm hoping you'll be able to help me. The caterer for my wedding just backed out and after asking around, I've heard you're an amazing chef.”
She still was.
And it still did.
A crowd of people was gathering outside and when he caught snippets of conversation about how the diner was never closed at this time, Andrew wondered if something was the matter. A hand-printed sign on the door said, TEMPORARILY CLOSED — WILL OPEN SHORTLY.
And then he heard it, Isabel's voice, frustrated, a few random curses thrown in for good measure.
Before he could think better of it, he was crossing the street and going behind the building. Isabel was kneeling beside an open pipe that was pouring water out all over the parking lot, a wrench in her hands.
“Where are the mains?”
Looking up, her face twisted with surprise — and then annoyance. “Two feet from where you're standing. I couldn't get it to turn. Here.”
She threw the heavy wrench at him, and he grabbed it a split second before it hit him between the eyes. Another time, he'd be happy to let her get some much due satisfaction from taking her anger out on him with a hand tool, but right now he needed to get her water shut off before her well emptied out completely.
Someone had painted the valve closed and he had to bear down hard to get it to twist. Thankful that he was religious about going to the gym — otherwise he would have looked like the biggest loser in the world in front of the one woman he most wanted to impress — he cranked down on the valve until not even trickles were leaking out of the tap.
“Thanks.”
The word may have been grudging, but he knew he deserved that.
“You're welcome.” He tried to hold her gaze, tried to make her see how much he wanted her forgiveness, but she refused to look at him. “I'd be happy to head over to the hardware store for a new pipe, if you'd like.”
“This has happened before. I had the plumber leave me some replacements.”
“I'll do it for you.”
She didn't bother stopping as she walked through the back door. “No thanks. I saw how he did it last time. I can take care of it myself.”
But he couldn't let her go so easily. Not when he refused to believe that last night had been it for them.
“There's a line out on the sidewalk in front of the diner. You need to feed those people. I'll get your water up and running quickly. I know how to do this, I promise.”
At the word “promise” her eyes narrowed. Damn it, maybe that hadn't been the best word to use.
“Please, Izzy, let me help.”
“Isabel.” The door slammed.
Why couldn't he, just once, say the right thing?
But then the door opened again and Isabel dumped a plastic bag at his feet. “Don't screw it up.”
As the door slammed behind her again, Andrew smiled. Letting him fix her pipe wasn't a big deal, but it was something. A step in the right direction. And a hell of a lot better than being thrown off the property.
He'd take what he could get and he'd work from there.
A car pulled up in the parking lot and Ginger stepped out. After the way she'd found him yesterday at Isabel's house, pride made him want to walk away before she saw him. But that was what he would have done before.
What he'd done before hadn't worked. It was time to stop repeating the same screwed-up patterns and learn some new ones.
When Ginger was within hearing distance, he said “Good morning.”
She jumped. “You startled me.”
“Sorry. I'm just helping Isabel with some broken pipes.”
She frowned in obvious confusion. “Oh. That's nice of you.”
He took in the dark smudges beneath her eyes, her puffy eyelids. It would be easiest just to pretend he hadn't noticed. But then he remembered the way she had reached out to him at Isabel's.
“Everything okay?”
She wasn't a large woman, but up until now she'd struck him as steady. Solid. This morning, however, she seemed shrunken, looked like someone who'd just thrown in the towel.
She swallowed. Shook her head. “No. But I'll be fine.” She nodded toward the diner. “I'd better get in there.”
Why was she letting him help her, Isabel wondered? She could have fixed the pipes herself. And yet, her feet had carried her back inside, her hands had grabbed the pipes and given them to him.
She hadn't been lying to him yesterday. She wasn't going to forgive him.
Even if he redid the diner's entire plumbing system.
Her fry cook came in from the restaurant where he'd been guzzling his first Coke of the day. “People are about to riot out there. Can I let them in?”
Isabel nodded and moments later, a sea of grateful faces rushed in to take their usual a.m. seats. And although she knew that everyone inside the diner would surely be happier if she had water to make their breakfasts and coffee, nonetheless, a part of her hoped that Andrew wasn't able to fix the pipes. He'd always been handy, even as a teen. With cars, pipes, hammers. Just once, she wanted to see him fail at something.
But a few minutes later, when she momentarily forgot that the water was off and turned on the faucet, it ran beautifully.
Andrew had, once again, succeeded. He'd arrived unannounced like a knight on his shiny white horse to save the damsel in distress.
Damn him.
The orders poured in and soon every burner was covered and she was in the zone where the only thing she should be thinking about was the next order. And yet, every second she was on guard, waiting for him to come through the back door, triumphant. Expecting her thanks. Thinking they could forget everything that had been said.
But breakfast turned into lunch, and still he didn't come. Midway through the rush, the phone rang in her office. Scott picked it up and handed it to her, even though she was in no mood to be friendly to whomever was on the line.
“Blue Mountain Lake Diner. This is Isabel.”
“Oh great. I'm so glad I've caught you. My name's Dianna Kelley and I'm hoping you'll be able to help me. The caterer for my wedding just backed out and after asking around, I've heard you're an amazing chef.”
