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Chapter Three

By 2:05, the diner was empty save for her, Cam and Jess, the pretty new waitress who had started this morning, along with the new busboy named Chris.

Rose locked the front door and flipped over her sign. “Phew, busy day.”

“I’ve seen worse.” Jess grinned. She’d held her own today.

Rose smiled back. The girl was nice, cheeky but respectful, even toward Cam. Especially toward Cam. “You did well today. Thanks for your help.”

Jess lifted her wad of tip money. “Not bad for a Monday. I can’t wait to see what the weekend brings.”

“Not bad at all.” Rose had never seen so many receipts skewered onto the check spindle by the cash register.

The two of them had quickly turned over tables, keeping the busboy busy. Chris clanged around in the kitchen, loading dishes in racks that rolled through an industrial dishwasher. The kid had done a good job today, too. Rose had him only through the summer until he returned to high school in the fall.

Rose itched to get at those financials, but that would have to keep until after cleanup.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jess waved and then yelled out to Cam, who was busy breaking down his prep station.

“See ya, kid.”

Rose chuckled as she headed for the kitchen. Cam didn’t flirt with Jess. He’d joked around, but that was it. No good-time smiles and a good thing, too. Jess wasn’t yet out of her teens.

Rose had been only eighteen when she’d met a twenty-five-year-old Kurt Dean. He’d swept her away with his artistic dreams and careless good looks. Kurt hadn’t been old by any means, but certainly old enough to know better than to fill a young girl’s head with promises he never intended to keep.

“Need help in here?” Cam’s voice sounded close behind her.

She’d been standing in the entryway lost in thought and didn’t hear his approach. Rose could feel his warmth behind her and quickly stepped away. “Chris has it under control, but thank you.”

“Any word on a cook?”

Rose shook her head. She’d placed the advertisement only this morning. “No. Nothing yet.”

A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “I’ll help you interview if you get any hits this week.”

“Thanks. That’d be great.” Rose carried her bucket of soapy bleach water with her to wipe down the tables and chairs.

Cam was a good diner cook. He’d waited on folks seated at the counter while she and Jess had been busy. Where would she find his equal let alone a replacement by the week’s end?

It was nearly two thirty when they’d finished cleaning up and Chris clocked out. Rose turned toward Cam. They had an hour and a half before Greg came home. “I’ll grab those financials.”

“Sure. I’ll be in the dining area.” Cam nodded.

Rose scurried up the stairs to the roasting apartment above the diner. It might not be the ideal living situation, with only one small bedroom that she’d given to Greg, but it had come with the building she’d inherited along with the business. She was determined to make do until she knew what kind of income to expect after a year or so.

When she returned to the coolness of the air-conditioned diner, even with the lights off, there was plenty of sunlight streaming in through the plate glass window facing Main. Before Rose joined Cam at the table in the sunniest spot, she asked, “Want something to drink?”

“No.” Cam pulled off the bandanna and finger combed his mop of thick blond hair. “Look, Rose, I’m no accountant. I can only tell you what I see.”

“I understand.” He’d already gone above and beyond and was even now, off the clock helping her. “Whatever you teach me will be a big help and much appreciated.”

“Yeah? How much?” He grinned at her, teasing. It wasn’t the good-time look he’d first given her, but softer. More like the kind of smile a kid might follow up with What will you give me?

Rose laughed.

“I see you’re not taking me seriously.” Cam pulled the manila envelope close and emptied the contents, then he winked at her.

She ignored the erratic dance of her pulse and watched as he spread the stack of paperwork out and thumbed through the pages. Her heart sank when he didn’t say anything for quite some time. “Well?”

Cam leaned back and sighed. “The Grille has made a profit each of these three years, but the most recent one saw a slight increase.”

“And the bad news?”

Cam shrugged. “There isn’t any that I can see.”

Rose pulled the paperwork closer and zeroed in on the first page and a line called Ordinary Business Income. “It sure doesn’t look like that big a profit.”

“That’s not the whole picture.” Cam flipped further into the packet and pointed. “This schedule is pretty much a balance sheet. There’s no paper losses or depreciation deductions here. This shows real dollars. Cash at the beginning of the year, cash at the end, and how that cash is used. These payments by the business are more than likely rent paid to Linda.”

“But it was all hers. Why pay rent to herself?”

Cam chuckled. “In a nutshell, The Grille paid Linda rent to help decrease its taxable income.”

“Oh.” Amazed, Rose stared at him. “How come you know so much about this stuff if you’re a fisherman?”

He looked surprised, as if he wasn’t used to such a compliment. “Even though I have my taxes done, I still review both my personal and business returns to make sure they’re correct. I keep track of my income and expenses throughout the year and always have.”

“Smart.” Rose nodded. Considering the scope of not only owning the diner, but the building, too, she needed to hire an accountant and soon. “So, based on what you see, am I sitting on a gold mine?”

“Not quite, but I think you inherited a good business and, with the right people, you can increase profits.”

He was one of those right people. He not only made super-tasty food, but he was good with the customers. He welcomed the volume instead of cursing it like Chuck had. Having grown up here, Cam knew everybody and greeted them by name. The dining patrons loved seeing Cam at the grill, too.

“You’d really help me interview cooks?”

He gave her a slow smile. “And transition them, if I can.”

“But you’re only here for a few more days.”

“I won’t leave you hanging, Rose.”

She searched his gaze, wanting to believe him, not knowing how he could possibly deliver when he was leaving at the end of the week.

He pointed at the bottom of the first page, bringing her attention back to the books. “Based on profits, you can certainly afford to hire an accountant. This is the firm Linda used and as far as I know, they’re good.”

Rose hadn’t paid herself a salary other than her tips because she’d been afraid of the immediate bills, including the cook’s payroll, eating up profits and the modest business checking account she’d also inherited. She’d deposited all cash receipts until she figured out a budget.

“So, what do you think the Deans are after? I can’t see them running this diner.”

“No. I can’t, either,” Cam agreed. “Maybe the building? Rents are high on Main Street.”

“Show me more.” Rose scooted her chair closer to make it easier to see the pages. Staring at those pages, she hoped they’d uncover the motive for the Deans’ threat.

Maybe then she’d know how to stop them.

* * *

Sitting this close to Rose, Cam detected a delicate fragrance. Underneath the cloying aroma of French fries and bacon grease that clung to both of them, he inhaled her soft scent. Leaning closer, he breathed deep.

She was dangerously sweet.

He appreciated the way her short hair swirled to a point at the back of her slender neck. His fingers itched to trace that hairline and see if her skin felt as soft as it looked.

Rose leaned back. “Okay, so you were saying?”

What was he saying? “Ummm, yeah.”

“Earth to Cam.” She laughed, having no clue that he’d been checking her out.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Rose immediately looked repentant. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and you’re tired. We can do this another time.”

He didn’t dare meet her eyes. He wasn’t that tired. “It’s fine. Let’s see. The balance sheet—”

Rose scooped up the paperwork and stuffed it in the envelope. “Nope, this is too much for today.”

He glanced at the clock reading 3:15. They’d been going over figures for nearly an hour. “How about we get some fresh air? We can walk to the beach and meet your son before the program lets out and see how he likes it. On a hot day like this, they’re probably there.”

“And if they’re not?” Rose looked like she relished the idea but wasn’t so sure of walking there with him.

“Leave a note for Greg that we’ll be back.”

She stared at him a moment longer and then agreed. “Okay, let me grab my keys.”

The public beach wasn’t far, only a couple short blocks across the street from the diner. Cam walked beside a quiet Rose. Outside the diner, she seemed tense and barely looked at him.

“Where’d you live before here?” Cam asked.

“Kalamazoo. It’s where my parents live.” Rose didn’t embellish. She was all business, as if this wasn’t a social outing.

Cam wanted to know more about her. He’d meant what he’d said about not leaving her hanging. He didn’t know how he’d manage that, but it would come to him. “How do you like it here?”

“So far so good.”

“It’s still new.” Cam chuckled. “But take a look at that lake and name a better view if you can.”

Maple Bay shone turquoise near the shoreline until it blurred into a band of deep blue that touched a sunny, cloudless sky. A couple small yachts were anchored offshore.

“Beautiful, although I prefer the simple sailboats ambling in the bay instead of those big yachts.”

“Crazy, isn’t it? A small town like this draws people from all over in summer. Some of these yachts come from Florida, up the coast then through the lock system in New York and the Great Lakes.”

“Crazy.”

They slipped back into silence.

Cam searched the park and zeroed in on the far corner of the sand beach beyond the bathhouse. “The youth group is over there, playing volleyball.”

“There’s Greg.” Rose pointed. “Can we sit here for a little bit? I don’t want to interrupt the game and seem like I’m checking up on him. Even though I am.”

“Sure.” He waited for Rose to perch near the edge of the park bench before he sat down with plenty of room between them.

Rose turned to him, looking wary. “Why are you helping me?”

He looked out over the water and figured he’d be up-front with her. “Would you believe that I made a deal with God? I promised to be a better person if He’d give me back my livelihood.”

“Give it back?”

“I lost my sponsors last year after I tanked at a big tournament.” Not quite all of the truth, but enough. Cam continued, “My placements had been low for a while, and so this year I’m pretty much starting over and paying my own way. This weekend’s tournament is one of three held over the next three months. I have to fish each one and end in the top five to qualify for next year’s circuit. If I do well, I have a good chance of securing new sponsors who’ll help fund next year and so on.”

Her eyes wide, she asked, “And if you don’t do well?”

“Not an option.” Cam would redeem his career however long it took, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Rose looked thoughtful. “I suppose I’d believe that, but making deals with God shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

Cam laughed. “You know, my mother said the same thing.”

Rose frowned. “Maybe you should listen to her.”

“I’m working on it.” He laughed.

That much was true. He needed to change and this time he was serious. This time, he’d do things differently. He’d get it right. He’d do right instead of wrong.

He’d grown up attending church. He’d even been part of the youth group, same as the rest of his brothers and sisters, but that didn’t mean the words had sunk in. The idea of eternity had been lost on him. He’d lived for the present too long and it had cost him.

Cam scanned Rose’s profile. She seemed much too serious for a pretty woman with a whole lot of life left to live. He supposed losing both her husband and mother-in-law couldn’t be easy on her or her son. She’d had to be tough.

He made her uncomfortable with his teasing, and yet he hadn’t imagined a tug of awareness between them. He wouldn’t explore it, though. Not when he needed to focus on fishing and the tournaments that kept him on the road about 70 percent of the year.

She caught him gawking. “What?”

“Does your boy like to fish?”

“I don’t know.”

Cam’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t he ever go with his father?”

Rose’s warm green eyes turned cold. “Greg was six the last time he saw his father.”

That statement hit like a center punch to the gut. Kurt Dean had died maybe three years ago, but they’d busted up long before that. Cam couldn’t keep the words from falling out of his mouth. “Maybe I can take him.”

“Look, Cam, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But please don’t.”

“Every boy needs to learn how to fish and if anyone can teach him quickly, it’s me.” Cam had fished from the time he could walk.

His folks still lived in the house on a small inland lake where he grew up. He’d had a Snoopy fishing pole until he turned ten and his father had given him a real, cork-handled rod like the pros used for his birthday. From then on, Cam had fished more than he did anything else.

“We’re not some project for you to feel better about your life.”

Cam hadn’t meant it that quite that way. Rose hid some deep hurts and rocky bitterness and it was small wonder. Kurt Dean had abandoned them.

Rose stood. “It looks like the game is over. I’m going over there.”

“Mom,” Greg called out and waved.

She waved back and walked toward him.

Cam followed.

At least he could introduce her to the youth director, who happened to be his cousin. If nothing else, he could rely on John to say something good about him. He wanted Rose to trust him. He meant what he said about being a better person and part of that included helping her and her son. Whether she wanted him to or not.

An Unexpected Family

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