Authors: Cat Johnson
“Just that his name is Gordy. That’s it. I was too out of it to ask him much of anything.”
“So he stays, wakes you up every two hours all night long and then just leaves?” Her right hand man looked at her in disbelief.
“No. He made me coffee and toast first and then left.” Zoey had to admit it did seem pretty unbelievable. Maybe it had been a dream brought on by the head injury.
“Are you insane, Zoey? You could have been raped or worse, killed. And now that he’s been in your apartment, he’ll probably be back to rob it.”
She frowned. She hadn’t thought of any of that. “No, Ralph. He wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah, and when you met your ex-boyfriend, you told me you’d met Prince Charming. Remember that? Right before he ran up your credit card debt then split. Right before you were forced to cut my hours from full-time to practically nothing. Any of this ring a bell?”
Zoey shut her eyes against the verbal and emotional assault. What could she say? He was right.
She felt Ralph’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“No. You’re right. I’m not the best judge of character.” She felt the tears begin to well. “And I really am sorry I had to cut your hours. I had no choice. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know, Zoey. You don’t have to worry about me. I make in two nights at the bar what I used to make here in a week.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
Ralph smiled, his dark eyes glinting. “I’m not insinuating you don’t pay well. Well, you don’t, but all I’m saying is the tips are really good. I’m doing fine and I’m still available days and some nights when you need me. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do for now. You know I want to open my own business one day. Tending bar may get me the money, but not the experience. You’ve taught me a lot, but I still have more to learn, so you’re stuck with me.”
“I’ll take being stuck with you any day.” She smiled even though she still felt like crap.
“Not to be mean, but you really do look like shit. Why don’t you go back home and get some rest?”
And apparently she looked like crap too. Zoey shook her head. “There’s so much to do—”
“And you would have been here doing it all on your own if you didn’t have a concussion and had to call me. If you can do it all alone, so can I.”
Zoey sighed. “All right. Maybe just for an hour or two, but then I’m coming back. But don’t forget the penis cookies for the bachelorette party.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll remember. You’re gonna owe me big for those. Hmm. I could probably have some fun with them though. Dip the sugar cookies in white chocolate and then drizzle them with thin strands of melted dark chocolate to simulate pubic hair. Maybe I’ll make a few dozen extra and put them in the window for sale.”
At her shocked expression he broke out laughing. “Kidding. Jeez, sense of humor much? Go. I’ll be good. Boy Scout’s honor.” Ralph held up his fingers in the Boy Scout symbol. She’d started out the door when he called after her, “Don’t forget to bolt your door.”
“Yes, Ralph.” Getting robbed by the man that saved her, that would be just her luck. Right up there with Ralph putting erotic cookies in the window next to the display wedding cakes.
As Zoey walked the short two blocks to her apartment, she considered what Ralph had said about Gordy.
At first glance, Gordy was the greatest guy she’d met in a long time. She remembered him helping her walk while supporting her with his big burly arms, the kind of arms that let you know you were really being held. She recalled reddish hair and beautiful blue eyes. He looked like he should be plowing a field somewhere in the Irish countryside a century ago. He was caring, didn’t freak out at the sight of her tears and was the perfect gentleman.
Yup, that proved it. He was too good to be true, all right. The way her luck was running lately, she wouldn’t be at all surprised if he turned out to be a serial killer. Keeping that thought in mind when she entered her apartment shortly thereafter, she took Ralph’s advice and made sure she locked the deadbolt.
~ * ~
After a few days of trying to take it easy, possible concussion or not, Zoey was back in the swing of things. Ralph had helped her out immensely, but her budget didn’t allow for two chefs for most of her jobs. So here she was, alone again and staring at the schedule while feeling more than overwhelmed. The way she figured it, if she worked eighteen hours a day, she might be able to get everything done, if she didn’t take the time for the long overdue bookkeeping.
Life in catering—too many things to do and not enough time to do them. This time of year was the worst of all. Happy Holidays. Ha! Whoever coined that phrase didn’t work in retail or food service.
Zoey tried to force back the feeling of panic that rose when she glanced from the overfilled schedule to the stack of invoices on the desk. The bills were late anyway, what would another week hurt? Once she got through Thanksgiving weekend, she’d squeeze in some time for bill paying before the Christmas and Hanukah crunch. She wasn’t able to sleep lately anyway. Perhaps, given her insomnia, she should do the bookkeeping at night instead of lying in bed in the dark making mental lists of things she had left to do.
She reached to turn off the desk lamp in her office and noticed her hand was trembling. Her body had been running on caffeine and adrenaline the last week, but the manifestation of this bit of physical proof was unnerving.
Blowing out a deep and she hoped calming breath, she tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. Unfortunately, it refused to be ignored. Her breath started to come in shallow gasps as her chest clenched and her heart pounded. Was this what a heart attack felt like?
Zoey grabbed the phone. She couldn’t call 9-1-1, they would take her to the hospital and she’d canceled the company’s health insurance policy months ago to save money. Ralph. He’d know what to do. Not knowing if he’d be at home or at the bar, she dialed his cell phone number. She was shaking so badly and breathing so hard, she misdialed twice.
She was starting to panic enough to reconsider calling an ambulance. No, she’d try to get Ralph one more time. Her clumsy fingers pushed the hopefully correct sequence of buttons when black spots suddenly started to appear in front of her vision.
This is it
.
I’m going to die, here, all alone
. Motion out on the sidewalk caught her attention. She glanced up and through the front window saw Gordy. Phone forgotten, she stood, took one step toward the door and collapsed to her knees.
Even though she didn’t remember hearing the door open, in spite of the bells hung there, he was suddenly beside her. Strong hands held her face and forced her to look up.
“Heart attack?” She gasped, still trying to catch her breath, and clutched at his forearms.
Gordy shook his head. “I think you’re hyperventilating.”
She was aware that he left her, and when he returned, he had a paper bag in his hand.
“Breath into this slowly. There’s too much oxygen in your system. You’re going to be fine. I promise. Just stay calm.”
Zoey did as he asked, not that she had much choice in the matter. He placed the bag over her nose and mouth and held it there with one massive hand while firmly cupping the back of her head with the other.
When she began to enjoy the feel of his hand in her hair and to consider that this guy had touched her more during this past week than any other man had in months, she decided she must be feeling better.
Her breathing slowed enough that he finally took the bag away from her face. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” She pursed her lips, feeling embarrassed. “You seem to always be saving me. Thank you.”
“It’s my job and my pleasure.” He smiled broadly.
He massaged the back of her neck. It was so nice to have someone taking care of her after having to take care of everything all by herself for so long.
“I was so scared.” She couldn’t help it, she leaned into him and dropped her head against his broad chest.
His strong arms enveloped her and she felt him kiss the top of her head. “I know. It’s all right now.”
She didn’t know how long he held her like that, but the next thing she was aware of was the jangling sound of door opening again.
Looking up, she saw Ralph standing in the doorway with a strange look on his face. “Zoey? Are you okay?”
“Better now. Thanks.”
Ralph was breathing heavily as if he’d run there. “You called my cell phone and then hung up. I tried calling back and the phone was busy.”
She glanced at the office and noticed the receiver dangling off the edge of the desk, suspended only by the cord.
Bracing against Gordy for support, Zoey stood. She walked to the desk and replaced the receiver in the cradle. “Sorry, Ralph.”
“What exactly happened?” Ralph’s gaze darted back and forth between her and Gordy.
Zoey realized Ralph probably assumed she’d been attacked. She wouldn’t doubt if he had run all the way there to save her. He was a good kid. “I think I hyperventilated, but Gordy arrived just in time to help me.”
“Looked like a panic attack to me.” Gordy pushed her down into the chair and laid the back of his hand against her brow while looking closely at her eyes.
Ralph looked more angry than concerned now. “A panic attack? Damn it, Zoey. When are you going to face that you can’t run this place on your own? After you finally work yourself to death? That’s it. I don’t care if you can’t afford to pay me. I’ll work for free until you start making enough money. You need to start taking better care of yourself.”
Gordy looked down at her. “He’s right, Zoey. I went to a funeral for a friend of mine recently. He went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up in the morning. He was forty years old.”
“See.” Ralph nodded and then narrowed his eyes at Gordy. “Why do you look so familiar?”
Gordy finally looked away from her long enough to glance at Ralph. “You tend bar at
The Lamplight
?”
Ralph nodded and realization struck. “You’ve been in there with the guys from the firehouse.”
“Yup. Gordy Mullen.”
Ralph grinned. “So
you’re
Zoey’s Gordy.”
Zoey had sat silently and calmly watched the testosterone face-off right up until the time Ralph called Gordy hers, then all semblance of calm faded.
Heart pounding again, she glanced up at Gordy’s face and noticed him looking much too happy. She frowned. “He means you’re the guy who found me the other night. That’s all.”
Looking skeptical, Gordy raised a brow. “Oh. Of course.”
Zoey didn’t want Gordy to think she’d been talking about him. “I had to tell Ralph about what happened. I needed him to cover for me, you know, because of the concussion.”
“And the penis cookies,” Ralph added.
Gordy nodded, still grinning. She couldn’t even imagine what he thought she’d told Ralph about him.
“Well, I really have to get back to work. Thanks again.” She would have loved to physically lead both of the men out the door so she could be alone with her embarrassment but that would have looked worse.
She noticed Gordy shaking his head. “No.”
Zoey frowned. “What do you mean no?”
“Take Ralph up on his offer. You need a break or the next attack might not be just a panic attack.”
“Fine. I’ll take an hour off and, I don’t know, go eat breakfast or something.”
“Zoey. You haven’t eaten yet?” Ralph pointedly looked at the wall clock, which was reading closer to lunchtime than breakfast.
Gordy scowled. “Yes, you should take an hour to eat, but I’m talking about a real break. Like a week off.”
“I agree. I looked over the schedule yesterday. I could handle things for a week.” Ralph stepped closer to Gordy. A show of male solidarity. Great. Just what she needed, both men ganging up on her.
“A week. I can’t do that.” Even just the thought of it made her stomach clutch in panic. Next week was Thanksgiving. She was busy. The ringing of the phone was for once a welcome sound. Saved by the bell. “I have to get that.”
She watched them both remain where they were, rigid and unmoving. With a sigh, she reached for the receiver. Please, don’t let it be another creditor. She didn’t think her heart could take it at the moment. “Zoey’s Events.”
“Zoey? Is that you? It’s Maizie.”
Her Aunt Zoe’s best friend Maizie calling her out of the blue didn’t sit well with Zoey. Something must be wrong. “Hi. Yeah, it’s me. Is everything okay?”
“No. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”
Chapter Four
Gordy sat opposite Zoey in the coffee shop. Her face was still pale, her breathing shallow. The phone call had been a shock for her. Still, it had taken both him and Ralph the bartender/part-time chef to convince her she needed to leave her storefront. Even a death in the family couldn’t crack this woman’s dedication.
“I just can’t believe it. She was my father’s younger sister. She is…I mean she
was
less than twenty years older than me. And now she’s gone.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Have you spoken to your father yet?”
She looked at him with a glazed expression and then shook her head. She laughed, tears glistening in her eyes. “I keep forgetting I barely know you. My parents are both dead. Car crash a few years ago. Aunt Zoe was the only relative I had left.”