style="font-size:15px;"> Tess shook her head. “No. Mary Jo made the meatloaf.” Mary Jo stood at the head of the line, passing out salad. She was a very nice, bone-thin grandmother who had a room next to Tess’s but was only there during the week. On the weekends, she stayed with her son and grandkids who lived in town, and came in to work for a few hours each day.
Mary Jo and Tess were the only full-time cafeteria employees, and the only ones who worked the supper shift. They were especially busy in the evenings, which meant that she did not have time to entertain the new guy, or anyone else.
“Oh.” The big man who had parked himself in front of her looked almost disappointed. “What did you make?”
“You’re holding up the line,” she snapped.
“So answer my question and I’ll move on.”
“I made the scalloped potatoes and the apple pie,” Tess said through clenched teeth.
“They both look great.” Benning did his best to lean over the counter. He was so darn big he could almost do just that. “So, why don’t you have a date for Valentine’s Day?”
His bold question startled her. It crossed the line between friendly and flirting, and to be honest she didn’t have time for either. Finally Tess answered, “What makes you think I don’t have a late date?”
“Do you?”
With a wave of her hand, she shooed him down the line. “I’d like to get these girls fed, if you don’t mind.”
He grudgingly moved along, muttering something about her late date, and Tess turned her attention to the kids who were waiting in line for their supper. Not all the students lived on campus, but those who did were in this cafeteria for three meals a day. They were good girls, for the most part, and she liked her job more than she’d ever imagined she would. Some days it took her back to her own days in school. She’d been so naive, just like so many of these girls. But it had been a special time, one she remembered with fondness, for the most part.
Thirteen-year-old Laura came along just minutes behind Benning. She and her friend Bev were the last students in line, as usual, and for them Tess had a wide and real smile.
“Cute top,” Tess said, nodding to the striped sweater Laura wore.
“Thanks.” Laura squirmed as if the compliment made her uncomfortable. “My dad sent it to me last week.”
“It looks nice and warm, and that green is your color.”
Laura wrinkled her nose. She definitely did not like talking about herself.
“And Bev, you look fabulous in blue. It brings out your eyes.”
Bev gave in to an odd sort of smile, but it didn’t last.
“I saw you talking to Mr. Benning,” Laura said. “Do you like him, or something?”
“No,” Tess answered precisely. “I do not like him. In fact, the man really gets on my nerves.”
“He gets on my nerves, too,” Laura said.
“He’s a little scary,” Bev said in a low voice Tess had to strain to hear.
“He doesn’t do things the way Mr. Hill did,” Laura said in a slightly louder voice. The changes in her history class obviously upset her. Laura didn’t like change. And at thirteen, everything was changing, or soon would.
“Maybe Mr. Hill will have a quick recovery and be back in class before you know it,” Tess said optimistically.
“I hope so,” Laura said as she continued down the line.
“Me, too,” Bev said, cutting her eyes to Tess and trying that uncertain smile once again.
Tess’s smile died as the girls headed for a table in the dining hall. Laura and Bev were both awkward, but then they were at an awkward age. Neither of the girls thought they were pretty, but they would be, as soon as they grew into themselves and gained some confidence. She saw them glance at the table where the more popular girls sat, giggling and whispering and posing. They were either older than Laura and Bev, or else they had matured at an earlier age. There was no awkwardness at that table of pretty, self-assured girls.
Tess often found herself trying to help the girls in this school, above and beyond the duties of a cook. So many of them had been shuffled off because their parents didn’t have time for them, or because divorce had split up the family and boarding school seemed a safe and easy alternative. They all came from money, or else they wouldn’t be here; that new sweater Laura was wearing probably cost more than a week’s salary for Tess.
“More?”
Tess’s head snapped around to find that Flynn Benning was back and offering his plate for a refill of scalloped potatoes. The fact that he’d surprised her counted against him. Had he noticed her staring at Laura and Bev?
No, he was much too self-absorbed to notice any such thing. That grin of his was wicked and just short of smarmy. If he winked at her, she was going to throw the potatoes at him. How would he look wearing his second helping? He didn’t wink, and she scooped up enough scalloped potatoes for four men his size and slopped them into his plate with a twist of her wrist. “How’s that?”
“Thank you,” he said. “There’s just something extra special about these potatoes. I’m not sure what it is.”
Tess rolled her eyes and turned away, but not before she caught a glimpse of something unexpected in Benning’s blue eyes.
Suspicion.
He was a good judge of character, he trusted his instincts, and something about Tess Stafford raised more than one alarm. She was too savvy to be working as a cafeteria cook, server and dishwasher in a private school. In his day they had been called lunchroom ladies, and none of them had looked anything like Tess Stafford. She didn’t make much money here, the living quarters left a lot to be desired and making heart-shaped cookies for little girls and teachers might be fulfilling in some basic womanly way, but it definitely wasn’t challenging.
Not for the first time, Flynn wondered what the hell he was doing here. Only for Max would he put himself in this situation. Sadie Harlow—Sadie McCain, now, Flynn reminded himself—would be perfect for this assignment. It would be much easier for her to work her way into the closed circle of women employees without rousing suspicion. But Sadie had gone and gotten herself pregnant, and for some reason her husband, Truman McCain, had a problem with letting her hunt down murdering thieves in her current condition. Flynn almost snorted just thinking about it. He’d never imagined that anyone could forbid Sadie to do anything. Just as well. If she was here and pregnant, he’d have to worry about her himself. Besides, anything Sadie could do, he could do. How much of a challenge could Tess Stafford, who made heart-shaped cookies and served up three meals a day, be?
Tess was presently wiping down tables in a deserted dining hall. The students and the teachers who lived on campus had all headed for their dorms, and the other woman who worked in the cafeteria had retired for the night. Stafford was lost in thought as she wiped down a table where some of the messier girls had eaten supper.
“Need any help?”
Her
