It's Not About You (7 page)

"You're not looking for the brother about—"

"Oh. No. Her parents asked us to find him. So as a personal apology to them for what happened to their daughter, I said I'd look into it."
 

Yep. That was Detective Kevin Taylor. Good guy extraordinare.
 

He put a hand on the papers. "These have the same terms as before. He's not allowed within a hundred feet of you or within a mile of your house. Now, I can't stop him from coming to town—doesn't work that way. And if Tanae wants to see him, she can leave your house to do it. Just sign and I'll file."
 

I glanced over them, having memorized my first restraining order. It was like he said. I signed it and handed him the copies. He folded them up, slipped them into an envelope and stuffed them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
 

And suddenly there was an awkward moment. He stared at me. I tried to stare back but drummed my hands on the table. "So…how's cop shop?"
 

"You look good, Grace."
 

"You said that this morning."
 

"And I meant it. You didn't answer me about seeing anyone."
 

The awkward meter increased by three ticks. "No. Not really. Just me and Kyle. After the divorce was final, I took a hiatus from the dating scene. Too much hassle."
 

"So…are you still on hiatus?"

And two more ticks. I liked Kevin. I really did. And even though we tried making a go at a romantic relationship during my divorce, I never felt the spark. That little something I had a vague memory of from my youth. The thing that made two people want to screw each other's brains out.
 

I needed the spark. I felt that somewhere inside, I needed it to stay alive. To still feel like a woman, and not a mom, or eventually—oh Hell no—a grandmother.
 

"Yeah. I am. Now don't look like that. I really haven't had time. Not with Tanae in school, worrying about bills, and now this job. I want to simplify my life for a while."
 

That seemed to brighten his mood a little, though it made me feel like shit. I didn't have any prospects. I mean, who wants to date a woman past her prime? And what I didn't admit was that I'd been thinking of Michael all day, and how naggingly annoying it was to know he thought I lived with a guy.
 

Well I did live with a guy. Just not a guy that liked girls.
 

Why hadn't Tom specified that? Wait…did anyone here even know my room mate was gay? Oh no…did they all think Kyle and I were a couple?
 

"Hey," I said suddenly and I had no idea where my mouth was going. "If you're not busy for Thanksgiving, you're more then welcome to join us. It'll just be immediate friends and family."
 

"Oh I…maybe. I have my obligatory engagement with the ex and the kids. Did you know Josh is graduating high school this year? Or rather, next year. June."
 

"No I didn't!" I smiled at him He had three kids. I had one. He didn't get custody, just visitation. I couldn't imagine what kind of hell that had to be not to see them on a regular basis. But his ex, Margo, lived in Alabama, and he got over there when he could. "What about Jennifer and Jordan?"
 

Brought to you by the letter J, and the number 3.
 

It'd been Margo's idea to over stimulate the J.
 

"The twins are the twins. They get nastier to each other every year. I thought twins were supposed to be inseparable? These two fight like cats and dogs."
 

"Maybe fraternal twins are different? They're both how old now?"
 

"Sixteen…going on forty." He moved abruptly and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. With a nod to me he got up and answered it, taking the conversation, which was probably police business, outside.
 

Fatigue pressed down on my shoulders as I sat there. Once Kevin left I was headed home to a shower, some of my left over potato soup, and a good book.
 

I felt someone beside me before I saw their reflection in the window. I turned and looked up into the smiling face of Michael Oliver. "Mr. Oliver…is something wrong?"
 

"I tried to use the French Press," Michael said with the hint of a smile on his gorgeous lips. "And created something between John Carpenter's
The Thing
and road sludge."
 

I laughed. Couldn't stop myself. "That's pretty bad. Did you want your money back?"
 

"Oh no," He said as he widened his own grin. "I'm not an unreasonable man. I called to see if someone here could give me a quick lesson."

And I assumed Tom had told him I'd do it. Which wasn't a bad thing, though the thought of standing near Michael while I taught him anything increased my blood pressure. But in a healthy way. The only bad thing was I didn't know how to use one. Kyle was a wizard at it, and his coffee always came out perfect.
 

I could relate to Michael's outcome because that was close to the same coffee I made. Kyle had given me a dramatic performance of a death scene after drinking a cup I'd pressed.
 

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not a great teacher at the Press…" I said as I stood and abruptly got caught up in my chair when it wouldn't naturally scoot back. The occupant at the table behind me had been right up against my back and I didn't know it, so when my chair didn't move, I lost my balance.
 

Michael stepped in close and gently grabbed both my upper arms, preventing me from embarrassing myself. The guy sitting too close? Not so much.
 

"Hey! Watch it—you damn near pinched my finger." He was young, probably Tanae's age, and full of himself. I'd seen his kind before. He was dressed nice, with his tablet on the table. One of the kids of privilege is what I nicknamed them after a week of running this shop. The regulars that came in, took their same seat, dressed nice, remained on their tablets and their laptops and phones for eight hours and then disappeared. They bought coffee and snacks and paid for them with credit cards.
 

Nobody knew what it was this people did to make a living, and right now, I wasn't in the mood. "And you had your chair jammed into mine. You've got a foot of space between you and the table. It was an accident."
 

"Then you should say you're sorry." The little shit actually started to block my way.
 

Michael slipped in and with a grace and speed I hadn't anticipated, put his own hand on the young man's shoulder. "It was an accident. Leave it at that. No harm was done. I mean, do you really want to alienate the store manager?"
 

I was sort of looking at this as a possible problem and going over in my head all those things George wanted me to do in case of customer ass-holery.
 

But to my surprise the customer glared at Michael but didn't retaliate.
 

"We got a problem here?" Kevin's voice was smooth, deep, and had just the right hint of irritation to it. When I looked at him, he was just behind Michael, his hands on his hips, his gun and holster visible as well as his badge hanging on the wallet around his neck.
 

The customer's gaze slid from Michael to Kevin and then he held up his hands. "Naw…naw. Nothing here. Just having a bad day is all."
 

I winked at Kevin before I maneuvered my way out of the little huddle toward the counter. I spotted Mary coming out of the back room, her apron gone. It was end of shift for her. "Sir, would you like a brownie on the house? They're fresh made."
 

The kid's face lit up like a birthday boy looking at his presents and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."
 

Kevin and Michael moved away from the table as I wound around the counter past Mary to get to the case. "Thanks you two," I said quietly.
 

When the two men faced one another, it was all raised eyebrows and posturing. Men. All testosterone and no common sense. I figured I should introduce them. "Detective Kevin Taylor, meet Michael Oliver. Michael, this is Kevin."
 

Michael was the first one to offer his hand. "Always happy to meet those who serve in law enforcement."
 

Kevin returned the handshake but looked skeptical. "You a regular around here?"

"When I can be. I bought a French Press earlier and I suck at making coffee with it. Came by to get a lesson."
 

I pulled a brownie out and set it on a plate. "I told him earlier that I don't know how to use them—"
 

"Which is why
I'm
going to teach him," Mary said a perky voice.
 

"Oh?" I looked from Mary to Michael as the little barista slipped between the two men and looked up at Michael with adoration. "Well, then that's a good choice. Mary's good with a French Press." Wow that was hard to say and mean it.
 

My eyes locked with Michael's. He smiled at me. "I'm hoping she can make an expert out of me." He placed an arm around Mary and nodded to us. "Nice to meet you Detective Taylor. Good to see you, Grace."
 

I watched as the two left the shop then moved back around the counter to serve mister fussy customer his free brownie with a smile.
 

"You okay?" Kevin stepped close as a group of women came through the front door. "You look mad and sad at the same time."
 

Had to cover that up quick. "Just a long day. The stuff with Sam and not getting my day off, then this guy," I said as I nodded to the now brownie happy guy. "Tired. But thank you for bringing the paperwork and filing for me."
 

He squeezed my shoulder affectionately. "You call me if he shows up, okay?"
 

I agreed and Kevin left as I welcomed the customers at the register. I couldn't remember what they ordered or what buttons I pushed to ring them up. For all I knew they ordered larges and got charged for smalls.
 

No…my mind was still processing Mary with Michael's arm on her shoulder. It was a good fit. They looked good together, and though Mary had a bad tendency to say what was on her mind at the wrong time, she was a good worker.
 

I just didn't like the way it made me feel…like the older fat kid on the playground after the bully turned my new best friend against me.
 

The smells when I got home—nirvana. I straight arrowed it to the kitchen to find Kyle there cooking up a feast. Potatoes boiling, a pan of butter and herbs over a flame and four lobster tails ready for a nice bath. He had pork chops ready, all glazed and herb encrusted. A pot of steaming green beans and in the oven—angel food cake!
 

"What's the occasion?" I asked as I stepped behind him to grab a Sierra Mist from the fridge. I spotted a new cheesecake there as well.
 

"Two things. One, I've been thinking about that last lesson we had."
 

"The surf 'n turf?"
 

"Yeah." He pointed at the plate of prepared chops so I handed them to him.
 

The pan was nice and hot so when he slid two in, the sizzle and inevitable aroma nearly made me cream my jeans. Damn…food was one hell of an aphrodisiac. "You're gonna make a straight woman come, babe."
 

"Always my intention. But back to your question…I decided to do it with pork. Cause I was wanting chops. The other thing is we've got company for about two hours."
 

I made a noise. I did not want company.
 

"Now it's not me. We hired in a new tech today. Guy's got a great resume. He was working over at Hyperion in Alpharetta, we hired him at Daedalus a week or so ago."
 

"I take it Hyperion is another IT company? Or what ever it is you do?"
 

"Yeah but he's not working in my department directly. He's more into the mechanical side of things. If we have a hardware issue, he's the one that fixes it, or his team. And because we're going to be working together," Kyle said as he made a face. "My boss invited the two of them over here."
 

"Your boss has a crush on you." He knew I was teasing him. His boss was anything but attracted to the same sex. That would be a sin.

"Yeah. Sad really. Cause he's not my type. Just too old. The new guy is fucking gorgeous, but I'm not sure which team he's on."
 

"What? Your gay-dar isn't working?"
 

"Not enough time with him. So I'll figure it out tonight. And baby, I need to find someone new. And exciting." He pushed the chops around in the oil. "So we'll be entertaining them for just a bit and once they leave, we're heading to the roof. I got a fat one rolled and I'm gonna need it after fending off Mr. Almondrode's questions all night. You up for this? We need to confer on anything?"