That smile.
Chynna had been talking to someone she loved. Trevor knew that smile and recognized its importance. One thing was for sure: he was never going to be a placeholder for some other guy. He’d made sure that Chynna knew she was with him the night before and he’d do it again.
He managed to work his way toward her with the bottle of champagne and offered to top up her glass. She smiled and turned her phone. “My crazy bird,” she said, playing a short video of a black bird hopping on a coffee table. There was the sound of music in the background and tapdancing.
“Is he dancing along to something?”
“To a Fred Astaire movie. They’re his favorites.”
Trevor could only chuckle at that. “He does look like he’s having a blast.”
He filled up her glass, and she stopped him with a touch. “My turn,” she reminded him, watching him. “What gives you the most joy?”
Trevor surveyed the room, calculated how much time he had, then knew the answer. “Easy. My tattoo.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s perfect in every possible way,” he said with conviction.
“You’re a perfectionist, then?”
“Hardly!” Trevor laughed. “I live in a world of compromise, but I respect and admire perfection when I find it.” He let his gaze linger on hers until she blushed a little. “Your turn. Quick. I have to go.”
“Tristan, the raven. He makes me laugh.”
“So, you value laughter over other things.”
She considered that. “I think maybe I do.”
“Not happiness?”
“Aren’t they the same?”
“Linked but not the same. You can laugh even when you’re not happy.”
“Rueful laughter, though.”
“Still laughter and still the best medicine.” When she nodded thoughtful agreement, Trevor spun away. He served the rest of the bottle, checked on the supplies and opened a couple more bottles for the waiters. Then he raced back down the corridor to clean the last of the rooms with Jenny. They were becoming quite an efficient team, and he teased her about that as they finished the last one. The phone was ringing, so she hurried back to the front desk, and it turned out several guests had changed their mind about staying, after all. Trevor helped her get through the cancellations and check-outs, one eye on the weather outside the big glass windows.
“You live in town, right?” he asked her and she nodded. “Feel like serving dinners? Double pay, then you can go home once the dancing starts.”
Jenny, Trevor knew, was going back to college in January and had asked for extra hours over the holidays. “I have a white shirt in my locker,” she said. “But what about the front desk?”
“I’ll manage it. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things.”
“Deal. I’ll stay even later if you need me.”
“Thanks, Jenny. Are you coming back to the lodge in the spring?”
“I hope so.”
“Then I’ll talk to Gabe about a managerial job for you. You’re really helping out today, but then, you always do.”
Her smile was brilliant. “Thank you, Trevor!”
“And if you ever want to leave Honey Hill, whatever property I’m managing has a place for you. There aren’t nearly enough people with initiative in this world.”
She paused to look at him. “Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll let everyone here know where to find me.”
“Thanks, Trevor!”
The lights flickered and Jenny froze, turning back to look at him. He had time to see the question in her expression before the power went out. “Candles,” he said tersely, reaching for the coat and boots he kept in the office. “I’ll start the generators for Spencer. He’ll need every bit of power to get those dinners served hot.”
“I’ll build up the fires, too,” Jenny said and darted into the restaurant. Trevor headed out back to start the generators.
What was he going to ask Chynna?
Did he dare to ask her what he really wanted to know?
Chynna was amazed. The dinner was beautifully presented and hot, despite the power being out. She didn’t think she’d ever eaten a more delicious vegetarian holiday meal and the others at her table were similarly impressed by their dinners. The fires blazed in the restaurant and the room was cozy with candlelight. The blinds were closed against the sight of the falling snow and she felt as if they were all enclosed in a safe haven. People seemed to forget the storm, or at least be complacent about it since they’d already decided to stay the night. She caught glimpses of Trevor in a heavy coat and boots, and recognized the woman from the front desk serving tables.
He intrigued her and even though she knew he was trying to capture her interest, she had to admit that he was doing a brilliant job. She couldn’t find fault with a man who thought one of Tristan’s best tattoos was perfect, much less one who’d made his peace with compromise in an imperfect world. She couldn’t argue with his conviction that love needed attention to survive and thrive, and his certainty that expectations shaped results made her reconsider about her own assumptions. He was clearly used to working hard and to doing things right, and she admired those traits, too.
And then there was the sex. Chynna knew she was looking forward to more of that.
After they cut the cake and distributed the cupcakes, Gabe and Lexi led the way back to the conference room, where the fairy lights were lit again. The DJ had hooked a pair of phones to the speakers and though the room was a bit chilly, Chynna knew it would warm up soon. Just as Gabe led Lexi toward the dance floor, Lexi’s phone rang, echoing loudly in the room. She answered it, then smiled for the other guests when she ended the call. “Teresa, Brad and Kristen are safely in Portland,” she told everyone and there was applause.
Then Etta James began to sing At Last and Lexi stepped into Gabe’s embrace. They were so completely fixed on each other that tears rose to Chynna’s eyes. This was a marriage that would survive. They’d taken so long to come together that she knew they’d defend what they’d found and it made her glad. The next song was Just the Way You Are, and other guests began to join them on the dance floor. Chynna felt a hand on the back of her waist and smiled as she turned to Trevor.
“Done for the day?” she asked, unable to hide her pleasure. “Mission accomplished?”
“Just a small break to sustain me,” he said, gesturing to the dance floor. Chynna smiled and they began to dance.
“You’re still calculating,” she said, seeing how his gaze roved over the room.
“Two big generators, thirty occupied guest rooms, plus several staff rooms,” he said. “Hot water heaters, furnaces and lights.” He winced.
“Too much for two generators?” Chynna guessed.
Trevor nodded. “Way too much. Time for triage.”
“Maybe everyone should just go to bed and snuggle.”
“Maybe we could play some very romantic music and encourage that.”
“Maybe some of us don’t need that much encouragement.”
He looked down at her and she knew she had his attention again. “I like the sound of that.”
She leaned closer and asked her question. “You have a lot of ideas about romantic love.”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Is that another question?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been in lust many times, but then expectations do shape results. I’ve never had time for a long-term relationship or, really, the interest in building one. I’ve been completely committed to work.”
“Regrets?”
“No.”
Chynna hadn’t thought he’d say anything else, given his choice of tattoo. She nodded and he looked down at her.
“You’re not surprised,” he noted.
“I’ve seen your tattoo.”
“Does that mean you know all my secrets now?” he teased.
“I know a few of them, although you can’t expect to keep them secret if you get a full sleeve to express them. Maybe you wanted someone to know.”
“Maybe I was waiting for the right person to see the truth.” Trevor smiled when she didn’t answer. “I’d like to know what you think you see.”
Chynna noticed that he was being evasive, which she knew wasn’t characteristic of him. “My room this time,” she said. “As soon as you’re done for the night.”
The song came to an end and Trevor bent to touch his lips to her ear. Chynna shivered with anticipation. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll meet you at the mistletoe.”
There was nothing like the proper motivation to wind up Trevor’s day. He strode through the kitchen, ensuring that clean-up was almost done, and conferred with Gabe about the generators, checked in at the front desk, sent Jenny and the other kids home, then locked up.
Chynna was waiting under the mistletoe, her eyes shining.
“There’s an invitation I can’t resist,” he said, then caught her close and kissed her. There was no hesitation in her response: in fact, she seemed more passionate than she’d been the night before. He wasn’t sure he’d survive that.
She broke their kiss all too soon and caught his hand in hers, leading him to her room. The sound of the music from the conference room floated through the hotel and made him smile. She lit dozens of candles as he watched and soon the room was filled with welcoming golden light.
“You prepared for this,” he said with surprise and she laughed.
“Of course. The best seductions are planned.”
Trevor liked the sound of being seduced.
Chynna closed the blinds against the chill of the snowy night and kicked off her shoes. “Do you think there’s still hot water? I’d love a shower.”
“I’d love one, too, but I think we’ll have to make do with a wash. You first.”
“Always a gentleman,” she said, then crossed the room, framed his face in her hands and kissed him.
He moaned with satisfaction and drew her closer.
This was what he’d needed all day long.
That she had initiated the kiss was awesome: that she apparently couldn’t wait was icing on the proverbial cake.
Trevor sank into Chynna’s kiss, drawing her closer, noticing how she welcomed him more than she had the night before. She was more open and more passionate, perhaps more trusting, and he loved the change. Her fingers were in his hair and there was an urgency about her touch that was new.
And exciting.
She loosened his tie without breaking their kiss, pushed his jacket over his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands were on his chest, then unfastening his belt buckle. Trevor kicked off his shoes and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. She laughed when they tumbled to the mattress together and he rolled her over to unzip her dress. It was a sleek little black dress with long sleeves, one that hugged her curves and flared at the hem. He’d admired it all day long. She tugged it over her head and flung it at a chair then smiled as she knelt before him, her hair tousled and her eyes shining. Trevor stared, surprised by her black lace lingerie. She was wearing sheer lace-topped stockings and a black lace teddy. With her tattoos in shades of gray and her pale hair, she looked like a black-and-white pin-up.
But she wasn’t just a picture.
And she was with him.
“Surprised?” she asked.
“Yes and no. Impressed.”
“I believe in dressing for success,” she purred. “You caught me off guard last night.”
“No regrets?”
“Only that I wasn’t prepared.” She beckoned to him with that wicked smile, the one that made his pulse go crazy. “Come here and be seduced,” she purred.
Trevor couldn’t shed his clothes quickly enough. “I should shower,” he protested as she ran her hand down his chest again.
“I like how you smell,” she murmured and rose to her knees to kiss his nipple. “I like your cologne and I like the smell of your skin.” She looked up at him through her lashes, a coy glance that made his heart thunder, then grazed his nipple with her teeth. “It makes me want to take a bite,” she whispered.
Trevor caught his breath then speared his fingers into her hair and drew her close for a kiss. Chynna tasted like cupcakes and champagne, and he wanted more than a bite. Her perfume was sweet and musky, mingled with the scent of her skin and her arousal. Her hair was like silk in his hands and her skin was just as soft. He could feel the strength in her body, though—she was sleek and powerful—and her kiss was fabulously hungry. She hadn’t even glanced at his tattoo: this was all for him. Trevor closed his eyes and surrendered, loving how she clutched his head and feasted upon his mouth, as if she couldn’t get enough. He had the sense that she’d eat him alive and he didn’t care. He was ready to be whatever she wanted, to give her whatever she wanted, and to do it for as long as possible.
She made a little sound of desire that sent fire through his blood as he ran his hands over her. She winked as she rolled him to his back, then straddled him, her heels digging into his upper arms as she bent and took him into her mouth. Trevor heard himself moan, then he opened his eyes and moaned again at his view. He caught her hips in his hands and drew her closer, opening the snaps at the crotch of her lingerie with his teeth. He eased aside the lace with his tongue then flicked his tongue against her slick heat. When his mouth closed over her, she gasped and shivered, then her knees clenched around him. Trevor didn’t surrender and Chynna laughed a little before she began to torment him with her lips and her tongue.
This was heaven. He could feel the lace beneath his hands and see it over her skin. He could feel her becoming more excited, quivering with her desire, and knew that he was about to explode. She rocked over him, moving with the precision and power of a dancer, and Trevor knew he wouldn’t last long. He didn’t want to stop either, but coaxed her on, hearing her little moans of pleasure, feeling his own desire burn.
She flicked her tongue against him, making him moan, then reached for the nightstand. She smoothed the condom over him then turned around to face him, her eyes sparkling and her hair tousled.
“I want to ride you,” she said, straddling him again. She held his gaze as she took him inside her and Trevor caught her breath. She was so tight, so slick, so sexy. “I want to wrap myself around you,” she whispered. “I want to pump you dry.”
“Yes,” he whispered, almost overwhelmed.
She bent down and rubbed her breasts against him, letting him feel the lace. His hands were full of her buttocks and he slid his fingertips under the tops of her stockings. So hot. So tight. So sexy.
“You like lingerie,” she whispered.
“I like you.”
“And lingerie.”
“And lace,” he confessed. “You wearing lace. I didn’t expect it.”
She moved her hips and he rose against her, liking how her eyes widened at the size of him. “You like surprises?”
“Good ones.”
Chynna laughed a little. She bent down and put her lips against his ear, her breath making him shiver. “I want you to stretch me wide, Trevor Graham,” she said and he appreciated that she was letting him know that she knew exactly who she was with. That she was talking dirty to him was also enough to make him explode. “I want you to give me the best orgasm of my life. I want you to make me scream so that the other guests come knocking at the door.” She flicked her tongue across his earlobe. “And in return I’ll shake the foundations of your world.”
She’d already done that, but Trevor wasn’t going to tell her.
He was going to seize the moment and enjoy. “Kiss me,” he whispered in invitation, and felt her laughter before her mouth closed over his. He gripped her hips and she rode him, moving so slowly that he was sure she’d kill him. She kissed him all the while, languid open-mouth kisses that could have been designed to steal his soul. Trevor was completely enchanted, enthralled by her touch, and only hoped he could last long enough to see her satisfied.
If Chynna did kill him, this had to be the way to go.
She blew his mind.
Twice.
Once with her lingerie on and once after he took it off. The second time was against the wall in the bathroom, but Trevor still hadn’t had enough. Chynna had some kind of magical touch: no matter how often he had her or in how many ways, he wanted more. He still wanted her as if he hadn’t had her at all.
That was a seriously good portent for the future.
So was the way that she’d screamed in her release both times.
“They’re going to come knocking at the door,” she whispered afterward, blushing slightly.
“You’re going to have a line of volunteers,” Trevor replied.
She ran a fingertip down his chest. “I only need the one I already have.”
He caught her close and kissed her again, liking that she clutched at his hair. He carried her to the bed and spread her legs wide, holding her captive to his touch as he went down on her again. She came quickly and roared with satisfaction, then they laughed together as they lounged on the bed.
“Give me a minute,” Trevor said, tucking her into that plush robe. She curled up beside him, looking as contented as a cat. He wanted the night to last forever. “When exactly are you going back to the city?” he asked, not because he wanted her to go, but because he wanted to know how much time they had left.
“Tomorrow afternoon.” Chynna looked at the clock but the display had gone out with the power. “Maybe it’s today. I have a train booked from Portland after lunch.”
“So you’ll be back in Manhattan for Christmas.”
She nodded and winced.
“Plans?” he asked and she shook her head.
“I always spend the 25th alone.”
“No raven?”
She smiled, to his relief, but didn’t meet his gaze. “Alone with Tristan the bird.”
“No friends?”
“Too many memories. It’s a hard day for me and I don’t want to inflict that on anyone.”
“Why?” Trevor asked, but he was pretty sure he could guess.
“Tristan died on Christmas Day.” She reached out and traced the two koi on his arm with her fingertips and he saw her expression soften.
“Nothing like a shit anniversary to spoil the fun,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” She looked up at him. “You have one, too?”
He held up two fingers and she studied him for a moment, but didn’t ask. He was glad.
Chynna’s gaze dropped to the tattoo again and her own restless fingers. “Twelve years ago, you said.” Trevor nodded. “No wonder it’s so good. He was at the top of his game then.” Her finger slid over his skin. “This might have been one of his last works.”
He could have felt that three was a crowd, but he knew she needed to talk about Tristan. “Tell me about him.”
Her gaze flicked to his. “Does that count as your next question?”
“I don’t know. Does it?”
She frowned. “We should make a trade to keep in the spirit of your game. It should count.”
“Okay,” Trevor agreed, wondering what she’d suggest.
“I’ll tell you about Tristan if you tell me about yourself first.”
“Me? What about me?”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, giving her a purposeful look. “I don’t believe you’ve never been in love.”
“You should. It’s true.”
“Then you’ve chosen not to be in love,” she said, her tone a little harder. She sat up and he missed her touch. “And I want to know why.”
Ah. Trevor averted his gaze. “You could read my secrets from my tattoo instead.”
“I could name some of them,” she said to his surprise. She traced the outline of the lotus blossoms, then the second koi again. “No one gets to our age without falling in love at least once. Tell me about the one who got away.”
“She didn’t get away. I let her go.” Trevor was surprised to have admitted as much, but once it was said, he couldn’t take it back. “It was better for her that way.”
Chynna smiled. “You must know that noble heroes are sexy.” She walked her fingertips up his arm, and her tone turned thoughtful. “Although I’m not surprised.”
“Can you be surprised?”
“Of course.” She tapped his arm. “But a koi tattoo like this has several meanings.”
“Tell me,” he invited, glad of the distraction even though he knew the meaning of his ink.
She outlined the fish swimming up his arm. “Koi are symbols of overcoming adversity and transformation.”
“Because they swim upstream.”
“More than that.” Her fingertip ran up and down the length of his tattoo, tracing the outline of one fish and then the other. “Do you know the story?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Once upon a time, an enormous school of koi swam up the Yellow River in China, until they reached a waterfall. There were thousands of fish but most of them turned back after several attempts to jump the falls. Some of them stayed, continuing to try to leap over the falls. These koi were so persistent that they kept trying over and over again, undaunted by their failure. After a hundred years, one of them finally managed to leap over the falls and the gods were so impressed that they turned this koi into a golden dragon. The falls were named the Dragon’s Gate and it’s said that any koi that manages to make it over the falls will become a dragon.”
“I’m going to guess that not many of them do.”
“Why?”
“Not many dragons in the world.” It was meant to be a joke but Chynna didn’t smile.
“Just because you don’t see them on every corner doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I thought you would be one to look beyond the surface.”
“I am, but I don’t go looking for dragons.”
She shrugged, letting that go. “This koi swimming up your arm is about facing adversity and seeking success despite the odds. It means there are obstacles before you, or there were when you chose the tattoo, but that you’re gaining strength from the fight. It’s a blue and black koi as a tribute to your masculinity and ambition, your independence and your resolve. It means you’re driven to achieve your goals and is an expression of hope in your own strength. The color black is also indicative of success, either hoped for or attained.”
Trevor nodded. He’d known all that when he chose it.
“You researched it, didn’t you?”
“It’s not something I wanted to fuck up.”
She traced the other koi, her fingertip sliding over his skin. “This one refers either to achieving your goals or surrendering them in defeat. I’m going to guess that it means the first option.”
“You’d be right.”
“And it’s gold because you associate success with financial security. A yamabuki like this means fortune and wealth. Was it a hope or an achievement?”
“It was starting to happen when I got the tattoo, but now I’d say my goal is achieved.”
“And there are lotus flowers floating around the koi, symbolizing transformation. The lotus starts to grow on the river bottom, in the mud, but then stretches toward the light and blooms in beauty. It usually means that there are ongoing challenges, but that the bearer intends to overcome them.”
Trevor nodded. “You’re good at this.”
“I had a good teacher. Do you overcome challenges?”
“I try to. The way I see it, you’ve got to keep moving forward. You’ve got to keep learning, and you’ve got to listen to other people.”
“But if you’re always moving, how do you put down roots?”
“Maybe I don’t need roots. Maybe that’s not for everybody.” It sounded like an excuse even to Trevor’s ears and he sensed that Chynna didn’t agree with him.
She pursed her lips and considered his tattoo again. “You have two koi, swimming in opposite directions, symbolizing balance and harmony. I’m going to guess that for you that’s the balance between ambition and achievement.” She met his gaze, surprising him a little. “But when is enough enough? How much will you surrender for your ambition? What will you surrender for it?”
Trevor was startled. He didn’t think he’d given up anything.
Then he thought about being successful but alone.
Chynna dropped her gaze to watch her fingertip again. He thought she might surrender the topic, but she suddenly frowned and looked up at him. “What did you surrender, Trevor? And what did you have to overcome? That’s my next question.”
It was his instinct to refuse to answer. His reply would reveal a past he never discussed, but then, wasn’t that the same confession he wanted from Chynna?
“That’s two questions.”
“You don’t have to answer either of them.” She waited and watched and he knew that answering was the price of hearing about Tristan. Not long ago, he would have walked away from a woman who made even this much of a demand, but Trevor didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t just that the room was cozy or that the sex was great. It was Chynna. She intrigued him.
He wanted to know more about her, too.
He wanted to know everything. He wanted to unravel her ability to fascinate him. He wanted to be with her, and for more than a night or two. It only made sense that there was a concession he had to make. Everything had a price, especially anything worth having.
Trevor chose to pay hers.
“Free pass,” he said, his voice husky. “This story for your story of Tristan.” He offered his hand and Chynna slipped her hand into his without hesitation.
“Deal,” she said, then smiled. “But you first.”
Trevor leaned back on the bed and Chynna watched him choose his starting point. She’d thought he would refuse to answer her and was already honored by his trust. She liked how direct he was and admired that he was decisive. It was fascinating to watch his eyes as he weighed the pros and cons, just a flicker in their depths while he calculated and then chose. She doubted that he ever had regrets. He was like Tristan in that, and maybe had something to teach her about savoring the moment.
Was it a lost love that drove his ambition? Was he rootless because he couldn’t have the home base that he wanted? Chynna was curious, more curious than she knew she should be about a casual partner.
Funny how she didn’t mind being drawn in by Trevor. He wasn’t a man who would ever cling to a woman or a relationship. He didn’t need help and he didn’t need pampering. She would imagine that he would be an equal partner in every way, unafraid to pull his weight—no matter what needed to be done—and ready to step up for someone he loved. He was devoid of gender role expectations—she’d noticed that he’d cleaned rooms that day—and she liked that. He observed, assessed and chose.
“I grew up in foster care,” he confessed, to her surprise, but then she realized that might explain his self-sufficiency. “My parents were killed in an accident when I was four, and I don’t remember them very much. We didn’t have any other relations, or none willing to take us on, and there wasn’t much money, so into foster care we went.”
“We?”
“I have a younger sister. She wasn’t even a year old when it happened.” Regret touched his expression and Chynna knew that sister had been important to him.
“What’s her name?”
“It was Joanna.”
“Was?”
“She was adopted, pretty much right away, and they changed her name.” He cast his gaze downward and Chynna knew it wasn’t a coincidence. He was hiding his thoughts. “They took her away,” he said softly and she felt the ache of his sadness, even after all these years.
“Not you?”
“They only wanted a baby.”
“Weren’t you adopted later?”
“No. I was never adopted.”
Maybe that was why he averted his gaze. That rejection must have hurt.
“New Year’s Eve. One of those shit anniversaries I never forget.”
Chynna understood that well enough. One was plenty for her. “Mine’s Christmas Day,” she confessed and he took her hand.
His smile was sad. “You always work the holidays, too?”
“I volunteer at a soup kitchen every year.”
“That’s nice.” He squeezed her hand. “I just work. It’s a welcome habit in this business and it’s better to be busy than to sit alone and think.”
Chynna nodded.
Trevor frowned and continued, still holding on to her hand. “I moved from one foster home to another until I could legally leave. On my eighteenth birthday, I was out the door with all my worldly possessions. I didn’t even say goodbye.”
“No lasting ties?”
Trevor shrugged. “Some of them were good people and some were less so. Some were well-intentioned, and others less so. I wasn’t a very good kid and that certainly influenced results. In hindsight, I could say that I felt ignored if not forgotten, so I drew attention to myself in the only way I knew how. I got into trouble. Over and over again. Not big trouble. I don’t have a juvenile record. But I challenged expectations. Every time I moved to a new foster home and had a new opportunity, I found the same kind of trouble again. I had a social worker tell me I had a homing instinct for it, but the truth was that I went looking for it. It was a habit. There were always kids who had no interest in getting good grades or excelling in school, always ones who stole or vandalized other people’s stuff, and I always found them. Petty stuff, nothing serious enough to be charged, just really indifference to any path that would help me to achieve anything in life. I was lazy and unreliable, maybe a little bit charming.”
Chynna smiled as he fell silent. “Maybe more than a little bit.”
“Mad at the world maybe. I was sure it was unfair.”
“That’s not crazy, given your experience.”
“But it wasn’t constructive either. I learned enough to get by but had no interest in achieving anything or building anything.”
“I’ll guess that changed.”
Trevor nodded. “I didn’t have a plan when I left. I was just going to be independent. Free.” He smiled and shook his head. “The thing was that I had no money and it wasn’t that easy to get a job when I hadn’t had one before. I ended up on the streets. I was hungry. I was afraid. I was going through the garbage at a diner by the docks early one morning when the owner caught me. He literally caught me. I tried to run but he grabbed me and shoved me into the diner. I was really afraid when he locked the door behind us. He was a big guy. But he heated up the grill and made me breakfast. I thought it was a trick, but it was hot and it was good and I practically licked the plate clean. Then he offered me a job.”
Chynna smiled.
“What?”
“You’ll see when it’s my turn. Go on.”
“He said the job would kill me or cure me, and I didn’t know what he meant. He also said it was time for me to learn what I could do. I was glad of the chance, glad enough to follow his rules instead of breaking them. Being homeless had given me the motivation to grab at this chance. Bill let me eat as much as I wanted before opening and after closing, and I was able to sleep in the back room. I took out the trash and cleaned up the kitchen and cleaned the diner, too. I worked harder than I’d ever worked in my life and then he told me to work some more. I halfway think he lost money on that deal because I ate so much.”
“Teenage boys can be impressive.”
“I must have had three hollow legs.” He shook his head, and she was glad that he smiled in reminiscence. “I was there about a year when Bill started to ask me for suggestions. No one had ever asked my opinion before, but I gave it to him. The place was busy sometimes but not consistently. I thought it looked grubby and told him so. I ended up getting the job of repainting the walls. I thought he needed more sandwiches on the menu, things people could easily take with them. I thought his fries weren’t crispy enough and we talked about why. I thought he could offer a daily special or a coupon, something to mix things up. He didn’t just discard my suggestions and I didn’t make dumb ones. I thought about them and he listened. That encouraged me to come up with more ideas.”
“He encouraged you.”
“He listened. I learned that from Bill. You can’t know everything. Other people aren’t always right, but you can listen and you can decide whether they make sense or not.”
“Sounds like a good strategy.”
“We started working together, talking about changes and improvements, and damned if we didn’t build the most successful diner in town. We had lines outside on weekends, then we had them during the week. We hired waitresses. We sourced pies from a local bakery. We stayed open later and we worked our asses off—and for the first time, I saw that I could make a difference if I wanted to. I was proud of what I was doing, and that was new. Bill was pleased because the diner was more profitable.” He grinned. “We went shopping for new clothes and boots together. What a sight we were.”
He fell silent again and his smile faded. His eyes seemed darker and Chynna knew he was reliving something painful. She waited for a moment before prompting him. “And then?”
“And then Bill died.” Trevor swallowed. “He just dropped one night while he was scrubbing down the grill. He died of a massive coronary right there in the diner. One minute he was telling me to add something to the wholesale order and the next he was gone. It shocked the hell out of me. Even though my parents had died, I never actually saw it. They left and didn’t come back. This.” He shook his head. “This was completely different.”
“The paramedics couldn’t help him?”
“They said it was instant.” He frowned. “But he would have wanted it that way. The diner was his life. He’d been a cook in the merchant marine and cooking was what he knew. He’d bought the diner with his savings and it was everything to him. I remember these old guys would come in and spend all day there, just talking to him about old times as he cooked. Sailors passing through would stop to chat when they were in port. He poured them coffee and usually gave them a free meal. He was a good man and I missed him.”
“The father you never had?”
“Something like that. He was gruff and didn’t talk a lot. He could be kind, like he was to me and his old pals. He could be tough. He wasn’t affectionate, but his heart was good. People trusted him. He taught me a lot, saved me, really, and I always wanted to be a credit to his memory. I had job offers right away, which amazed me, just because I’d worked with Bill and everyone knew it. What amazed me more was that he’d left me the diner. Lock, stock and barrel as he would have said.”
“Wow.”
“Yes. Wow. And there was a note that he’d written only a month or two before, telling me that I could do anything I wanted if I put my mind to it and not to become a lazy bum again.”
Chynna laughed. “I’ll bet you didn’t.”
“No way. I knew to listen when Bill spoke. I took the chance he’d given me and I ran with it. I promoted the cook who had been working part-time with Bill and went upmarket. He’d never thought that could be his style, but I knew I could make it work. New menu, new decor, but still appealing to the regulars. New pricing with some new ingredients. The place got trendy and revenue went through the roof. When it got to the point that there was a line every day for every meal, I sold it to the highest bidder.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was, but I didn’t think that kind of success could last. I thought I owed it to Bill to make the most of the opportunity he’d given me and I did. I moved to Bangor then, bought a failing restaurant in a great location, and did it all over again. Rinse and repeat for another eighteen years or so, Boston, Bangor, Portland and places in between, and here we are.”
“But that’s work,” Chynna said. “What about love?”
“I love my work.”
She shook a finger at him, choosing to tease him. “You’re ducking the question.”
He didn’t smile. “I was putting you on,” he insisted but Chynna didn’t believe him. “There never was a woman who got away. I never took the time to love anyone. I was working too hard.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You should.” His tone was stubborn.
How strange that this very forthright man would suddenly become evasive.
Chynna knew it was important. He’d nudged her toward healing and she would nudge him back.
If Trevor wasn’t prepared to really share—to play the game he’d started, by his own rules—then she wasn’t going to talk any more to him about Tristan.
It was only fair.