The Trouble With Scarecrows (The Trouble With Men Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Scarecrows (The Trouble With Men Book 2)
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Chapter 14

Neal could barely keep his eyes open after working the double shift down at the café, but he didn’t miss the classic brown Jag parked in front of the house. Five o’clock in the morning was too early for a visitor. He was curious but not enough to not go to his apartment and crash, fully dressed and smelling of greasy food.

When he woke, four hours later, he remembered it was Monday the fifth, and he had promised to help Mary move this morning. He didn’t like the idea of his twenty-four-year-old sister moving in with her boyfriend and had tried to talk her out of it. He didn’t tell her, but he liked her living by herself even less, so he’d decided to deal with it. Besides, Mary’s boyfriend seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. He had a job—a better one than Neal’s—and seemed to really care for Mary.

When he jumped in the shower, the car parked outside this morning wouldn’t stay out of his thoughts. He didn’t want to think the obvious, that Brenda had already picked up some stranger and brought him home. She was a lot of things . . . but easy? Two nights, two men? The whole situation had left him rundown. She had him coming and going.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself as he went to his room to get dressed. He dug through his clean laundry and remembered Brenda’s panties he had tossed in there. But he couldn’t find them.

Strange. Had Brenda retrieved them from the laundry room? He shrugged his shoulders. “Who cares what that woman does?” He wasn’t even going to call Rocky and see how it went last night because he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Brenda brought home the entire bar and had an orgy. She could do what she wanted. From that moment on, he would keep it like she’d said: business.

He grabbed a banana on his way out the door and plowed right into someone.

“Pardon me.”

Neal frowned as he eyed the guy up and down. “No, it’s my fault.”

The guy with glasses, slicked-back dark hair, suit jacket, and a cordial smile nodded, and then knocked on Brenda’s door. Neal stuck around in case she needed help getting rid of the solicitor who had walked inside the house uninvited. Neal wondered if he’d left the front door unlocked. He wouldn’t have been too surprised seeing as how exhausted he’d been earlier.

Brenda opened her door, and Neal heard her say, “Hey, you.” And then she let him inside! What the hell was going on? Neal shook his head and headed to the front door, not being able to afford wasting another minute on that woman.

As soon as he opened the door, thick humidity and a boom of thunder greeted him. He watched the wall of rain cross the street like it was daring him to get to his truck before it did. Neal took off running, but the rain won the battle, giving him his second shower of the day. But at least the sky didn’t fall completely until he sat safely inside and had shut door.

There was another clap of thunder, but it was too bright outside to see the lightning it had followed. By the sound of it, it had hit close. Neal jumped, realizing he hadn’t even taken his keys out of his pocket. He stared at the mysterious car still parked in front of him. But it wasn’t that much of mystery, now was it? He hated the way he felt: jealous. It gnawed at his stomach, made him feel nauseous, made him want to . . .

He jumped again at the sound of his phone buzzing in his back pocket. He pulled it out and read the text from Mary saying they were going to wait another day to move because of the weather. He could’ve texted her back and told her he had a tarp and could cover the stuff that they put in the back of his truck. Instead, he wrote:
OK
.

By the time Neal made it back inside the house, his clothes clung to his body and his tennis shoes sloshed on the floor all the way to Brenda’s door. He stood there a good five minutes without hearing a sound, and then he made himself walk away. He went to his apartment and sat on the couch.

He should’ve knocked on the door to see if the guy was in the living room . . . or in the bedroom. But then he remembered—he didn’t care—it was just business. He decided to distract himself by getting busy finding people to help renovate the apartments. He had a lot of work and didn’t want to think about the fact that, most likely, he was in over his head. He’d run his father’s business for a while, but it was only roofing. At least he had a few contacts. He pulled out his phone and started making calls.

He had himself a plumber, a drywall specialist, and a floor guy by early afternoon. Those were the things that would take up the most time and money.

Satisfied with his results, Neal remembered that he had to make Brenda’s food for the day. She hadn’t said if she wanted breakfast, lunch, or dinner, so unless she said otherwise, he would cook it at his convenience. Now seemed very convenient.

Inside the kitchen, he searched the refrigerator and pantry and tried to piece a meal together in his mind. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup is a meal.”

He gathered the ingredients: sourdough bread, Gouda cheese, Swiss cheese, and butter for the sandwich. A can of crushed tomatoes, onion, fresh basil, and cream for the soup.

He had it prepared in less than an hour. He knocked on Brenda’s door with one hand while he held the tray with the food with his other.

When Brenda opened the door, she was mid-laugh. “Oh, it’s you. What’s this?”

“Lunch,” Neal said, unamused.

“Oh.” She held out her hands for the tray.

Neal was grateful that at least she was fully dressed. She wore a blue button-down shirt, fastened two buttons from the top, and a flowery blue skirt that hit right above the knees. Modest, but fitted, and emphasized her curves.

Neal moved the tray slightly to the right—out of her reach. “It’s hot and heavy. I’d better carry it in.”

She shrugged and moved out of the way.

Neal spotted the twerp who had entered Brenda’s apartment earlier. He sat on the couch, the same one Neal had pushed Brenda up against while undressing her.

The guy had one leg crossed over the over, like a girl’s. He jumped up and came toward Neal, his hand out in a welcome and a friendly smile on his face. Asshole.

“Hi. I’m Eugene. Eugene Spenser.”

Neal blurted a laugh that even surprised him. He glanced at Brenda, who stood behind him. She gave him an appropriate ‘go to hell’ look.

“Of course you are,” Neal said, setting the tray on the coffee table and shaking his head. Eugene still had his hand out, waiting. Neal accepted the handshake, wanting to squeeze the life out of Eugene’s delicate fingers. He refrained, knowing it would be a dick move. “Neal Parker.” He tried to stare him down, and it worked.

Eugene blinked, frowned, and glanced at Brenda. “Nice to meet you.”

Neal held on to Eugene’s hand until Eugene tugged it away and cleared his throat.

“Is that your car out there?”

“Yes, it is. Are you a car man? It’s a 1968 Jaguar XJ—”

“You sure were here early this morning.”

“Well actually, I stayed over. We got in pretty late last night.”

Heat rose from Neal’s chest to his face. He clenched his jaw tight to keep his cool.

Brenda stood over the tray. “Really? This is what you brought me? Are you a chef or my mommy?”

“Look,” Neal said, already on edge. With as much control as he could muster he said, “You did not say
what
I had to cook. I’m on a budget. You’ll eat what I eat. Tomorrow it might be Kraft Mac and Cheese.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m eating junk food. I’ll give you a food allowance.”

“Oh,” Eugene said. “He’s your cook.”

“Junk food?!” Neal shouted. “Homemade tomato and basil soup and gourmet Gouda and Swiss grilled cheese is what you call junk food? You are such a spoiled brat! Maybe you do need a mommy because you sure the hell could use a good spanking.”

“Looks and smells good to me,” Eugene said.

“How dare you?” Brenda said through her teeth. But then she glanced over at Eugene before closing her eyes. She did a quick inhale and slowly exhaled. By the time she opened her eyes, she wore a fake smile. “I think maybe you should leave before I use the clause in our contract.”

“What? What clause? Shit!” He balled up his fist at his side. “I should have known I couldn’t trust you. You fooled me. I had no idea you were such a good liar.”

She pointed to herself. “I’m the liar? Seriously? Look, we have a lot to discuss, but now is not the time.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what clause.”

She crossed her arms and smiled. “You should always read a contract before you sign it.”

“What clause, Brenda?”

She walked over to her briefcase, opened it, and handed him a copy of their contract. “If I check on you and see no progress, or I don’t
think
it’s progressing fast enough, it will be considered a breach of contract. The deal will be off. In other words, I can kick you out
any time I want
.”

His entire head felt like it was on fire. “What the hell kind of contract is that? This is how you treat people?”

“It’s called looking after your own interest, Mr. Parker. Let this be a lesson for you to always read the fine print.”

Neal studied her, trying to figure out if she was for real. “What is wrong with you?” He took a breath and found her eyes and calmly said, “I don’t understand. One minute we’re—”

“Please leave,” she practically growled. “I am in the middle of something. We can talk about work later.”

The room became quiet, and they just stood there staring at him. Neal’s anger was somewhere between feeling like a real idiot and wanting to punch the wall or Eugene in the face. But there was also the resounding—
this is your own fault
—bouncing around in his head. “Fuck it,” he said and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Chapter 15

“Gah!” Brenda hollered after Neal slammed the door. “He drives me crazy!”

“I can’t believe you let your employees talk to you like that.”

“Employee?”

“Yeah, he’s your cook, right?”

Brenda considered the question on the table and figured for the time being it was the best explanation for their relationship. “Yeah, he is.” She sighed. “I know, I can be a pushover sometimes.”

“You have to take control of the situation right at the beginning. Let them know there are plenty of people out there waiting in line for their job.”

“I know,” she said, calming down enough to put a smile on her face. “Let’s forget about him.”

Eugene picked up half the sandwich and dipped it into the soup. “Do you mind?” he asked, bringing it close to his mouth.

Well, you already touched it
. “No,” she said.

He took a bite, and his eyes widened. He made yummy noises as he ate. “Okay, I see why you put up with your cook’s rudeness. Great goobly-moogly, this is fantastic.”

He went to dip the sandwich, the one with the bite already taken out of it, back into the soup, and Brenda shouted, “No!”

Eugene jumped. “What’s wrong?”

Brenda put her hand on her cheek. “Sorry, but, um, please don’t double dip.”

“Oh.” He snatched his hand back. “I didn’t think you were going to eat any. Junk food and all.”

“I’ll make an exception because I’m hungry.”

She walked the tray to the dining room table and then ate a bite of the sandwich. Crisp, buttery, and salty on the outside and the cheese tasted mild and creamy. And then she tried the soup. Tangy and creamy at the same time, the basil added just enough freshness to not overwhelm the tomato flavor. If he could make this old stand-by taste this good, she couldn’t imagine what he could accomplish with high-quality ingredients.

“So dinner tonight?” Eugene asked, like he had asked before.

Brenda tried to recollect the conversation but gave up. “Where are we going?”

“What about Redbird Bistro?”

“Sure. I love their seared
foie gras
.”

“I can pick you up at eight.”

“Hey, you saw what happened here, right? My cook brought me a grilled cheese sandwich and called it gourmet.” She looked down at the plate and then back up, the wheels turning in her head. “I don’t care how tasty it is, it’s not, you know, my style. Even if I give him a food allowance, I don’t think he’ll know what to buy. So here’s a crazy idea: Why don’t we invite him too?”

“Tonight? The three of us? On a date?”

“Oh.” She guessed that was kind of strange. “No, no, a double date. Yeah. There’s a girl who lives across the hall. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have plans.” Brenda hadn’t ever seen her leave the house. She didn’t even own a car. She probably would welcome a night out. Even though Brenda was now a little mad at her too for helping Neal. But she needed her.

“Really? I don’t know. I hoped that maybe we could get to know one another.”

“I understand. If you are uncomfortable, I can take him out tomorrow or something. I suppose that would be a more intimate setting where I explain about the food . . . and such.”

“No, that’s okay. They can come tonight.” He frowned. “Are we all riding together?”

“Of course not, that would be silly. They can meet us.”

Eugene stood there by the table.

She smiled up at him. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Thanks for letting me stay in that apartment last night.” He walked toward the door.

She’d offered Haley’s old apartment because they had closed down the bar, and he lived an hour away. So he’d said. Which she didn’t doubt even though she’d just met him. She didn’t think Eugene would have been able to tell a fib. He hadn’t even made a move on her—not even a kiss, so it hadn’t been a ploy to spend the night.

“I uh . . .” He turned around, staring down at the floor.

Seriously?
Brenda stood up and strolled over to Eugene. “Waiting on this?” She stepped to her tippy-toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. She lingered a second, giving him the opportunity to take it from there.

He stared at her with a slight frown on his face, his eyes darting nervously, like he was making some sort of decision.

When she felt the moment had turned awkward, she dropped back down to flat feet and sighed. “Okay then, I’ll see you later.”

After Eugene left, Brenda went back to her lunch, thinking about that quick decision she’d just made. What was that? She was angry at Neal. So angry she couldn’t think straight. A double date? She questioned her own motives. She’d never been so confused. It didn’t matter. From this moment on, it was a business arrangement with Neal, and she could start her relationship with the kind and softhearted Eugene. Eugene was sophisticated and able to afford nice restaurants. Asking Neal to tag along so that he could learn how to prepare what she wanted to eat, was a great idea. And with any luck, some of Eugene’s manners would rub off on Neal.

All she had to do now was to convince Neal to go to dinner with them tonight. “It will be worth it,” she told her food as she ate the last bite of her sandwich.

A few minutes later, she was outside Neal’s apartment. She had her hand up to knock but brought it back down. She didn’t have to do this. Why was she doing this again? Because she loved a good meal. And what he cooked was good. It was more than good, but it could be better. No matter what he had done, trying to pull one over on her, it hadn’t worked, and he still had to cook for her for the next couple of weeks, and she wasn’t sure when he was going to start school. So this was for her taste buds. She knocked.

But then what Rocky had said the night before came to mind, and by time Neal opened the door, she was pissed again.

“What?” he said.

“Never mind.” Brenda turned to walk away.

Neal grabbed her arm and twirled her around. “What?”

His eyes were intense and for a brief second the night they had spent together rushed over her, heating her from the inside out. She tried to get back to the anger, but it was too late. She knew he’d noticed as his eyes softened and his hold loosened.

“Whatever.” He let go of her arm. “Go on back to your slumber party.”

In that second, it hit her that Neal thought she’d slept with Eugene. She’d been so mad earlier she hadn’t paid attention to the way he’d acted. But now as she thought about it, she remembered there had been a definite reaction. Neal had stormed in there like a jealous lover. But there was no way he was jealous. After what Rocky had said about the whole scarecrow thing being a way to seduce women, she knew the truth. Neal had only been trying to win her favor, so he wouldn’t have to do any work but get to stay there rent-free anyway. That was it. Wasn’t it?

“Are you jealous?”

“Of what?” he shouted.

“Eugene.”

“That little pipsqueak? I bet he wears a size seven shoe.”

He was sure acting jealous. He had no right to be jealous after the way he had played her for a fool. She would let Neal think she just went around sleeping with everyone. That way Neal would know that the night they’d spent together wasn’t anything special to her. “It’s a twelve,” she said flatly and pushed her way passed Neal and into his apartment.

“What the hell do you want, Brenda?” Neal asked as he shut his door and followed her into the living room.

She sat on the couch. “First of all, I want to thank you for sending Rocky in your place. He was an excellent scarecrow, as you can see.”

“He was?” Neal sat in the recliner but only on the edge.

“That’s right. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have never found Eugene.”

“Eugene, huh.”

“That’s right. Eugene is a wonderful man.”

“Man, huh.”

“Yes, in every sense of the word.”

“What a load of . . .” Neal put up his hand. “Never mind. If that is the type of guy you go for, well, who am I to stop you? I won’t say anything about how he is not the right man for you.”

“Excellent, because he is. He’s very intelligent. He’s a scientist and an inventor. His latest invention is the Cough Cup, patent pending.”

“Really? A cough cup?”

“You see, when someone is at the movies or a restaurant and someone is coughing their lungs out, you simply hand them the cup and say, ‘Hey, cough in this.’ It keeps the person from spreading germs and locks and kills the germs inside the cup. I can see the commercial now.”
Shit
,
why I am rambling on about this silly cup?

He stared blankly at her for a second and then said, “Fine. I’m sure you two will be scientifically happy.”

“Yes, we will. He’s so refreshing after meeting so many men who are aggressive, egotistical, full of themselves, vain, conceited brutes who think they can control me.”

“Ah-ha!” Neal said and stood up and pointed at her, which kind of startled her. “Ah-ha-ah-ha-ah-HA. Now, I understand. I get it! Control.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Control, Brenda. I knew you couldn’t actually be sexually attracted to that, that germ guy.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, but couldn’t, as much as she tried, look him in the eyes.

“You’re scared.”

“Of what?

“You need an insecure guy who you can push around.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re an ass.”

“You know I’m right. You know there is no way you could ever fall in love with
Eugene
. I mean, how could you fall in love with someone you don’t respect?” Neal nodded, a satisfied smile on his face.

Brenda’s face grew hot with anger. She hated that he was right. But it was none of his business, now was it? But okay, if he wanted the truth, that’s what she’d give him. She licked her lips, switched legs, crossing the right one over the left one and said, “You’re right.”

“What? I mean, I know I’m right. But why did you admit it?”

She had to ignore her inner voice that pushed her to ask Neal for the truth about their night together—had it all been a means to an end? No, this moment had to be about bringing things back to professional. She knew what she had to say to him, and it kind of made her flinch, but this was better than asking him about what Rocky had said. Because no matter Neal’s answer, whatever the reason for their sexual encounter—that was all it was. All it could ever be. So why did matter? She shrugged. “I’m a very practical woman. I know what I’m doing. I was in the wrong place for too many years. I let my heart lead me, and it turned out to be a disaster. I’m never doing that again. I got sucked in the first time. I was young and naïve in thinking love would win over. This time, I’m in it for me. So maybe part of it is wanting to be able to control every aspect of the relationship.”

“That’s not a real relationship,” Neal mumbled.

“I’m hoping that it will turn into one. Relationships shouldn’t start out as superficial physical attraction or meaningless sex. Compatibility should be first. Control is one thing, but there’s other things too. Eugene knows how to dress, and he’ll know how to act in social situations. And most importantly he’s on my level, career wise.”

Neal’s face dropped, and she had to ignore the look of defeat on his face. He jumped up and walked over to the window.

Brenda took that moment to breathe and noticed her heart pounding in her chest and her body shaking. Finally, she pulled herself together. “I didn’t mean to come over here and discuss my personal life. I actually came over to invite you out to dinner. That is, with me and Eugene tonight.”

“What kind of game are you playing?” he asked as he made his way back over to her, his face flushed.

“No games. I hope that’s all behind us. I just thought . . . look, you’re an excellent cook, but you have a lot to learn. And I just thought maybe you hadn’t had a chance to eat at some of the finer establishments here in Houston. I know that’s why you’re going to go to school, but I think it would be in your benefit to taste food from a gourmet chef.”

He opened his mouth, shut it, then dropped his shoulders and turned back toward the window.

“I’ll pay, and so it won’t be awkward we can bring Zadora, so you won’t feel like a third wheel. Maybe we can clear the air and have a nice neighborly outing.”

Neal remained quiet, and she knew him enough to know that sometimes it was just the calm before the storm. She tried to head him off.

“And I’ll take the clause out of the contract,” she added. “You and Zadora come to dinner with me, and I’ll remove the clause about being able to kick you out so easily. This is to show goodwill, so we can all start over fresh and with no misunderstanding or anything over our heads. Friends.”

At that, he did turn to face her and then walked closer. “Fine, I’ll go, but I pay for me and my date. Thank you very much.”

“We have reservations at eight at Redbird Bistro. I’m going to go and invite Zadora. I think she might have a crush on you.” As soon as she said it, Brenda wished she could take it back. However, maybe that was a solution. Get them together so that she could move on.

Once Brenda left Neal’s apartment, she stood in the hall for a second to compose herself. She had just pulled off the biggest bluff of her career, of her life. But it had to be done. There was too much at stake not to . . . like her heart.

And the time had arrived for her next performance, which she figured would be easy compared to dealing with Neal. She knocked on Zadora’s door and heard a soft, “Come in.” So she did.

Zadora sat at the dining room table, a pencil behind her ear, paperwork everywhere, and an open laptop on the table. Brenda immediately felt a pang of jealousy. She actually didn’t mind going to her office every day. It was more like home than any other place in the world. But taking these couple of weeks off from work was something she had to do, or she might not ever be able to get her work life back on track.

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