look inclined to explain at the moment.
Ty’s curiosity grew. That was the second time she had emphasized that she was here for six months. Had she repeated it for his benefit, or for her own?
“Until then, please know that I’ll do my very best to help you make the Haven succeed.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your commitment.”
“I am committed. From now on I promise not to spring any further surprises on you. I’m sure you’re juggling a thousand things already. You don’t need me adding to your stress.” She offered a tentative smile. “All right?”
Ty shook his head.
“Not all right at all. Please don’t apologize for helping. This whole misunderstanding was my fault. For now, let’s agree that we will cooperate to make things go smoothly. The Haven is our common goal. Okay?”
“Very okay.” She glanced around the room. Suddenly her eyes opened wide. She gasped. “Oh, how silly. I forgot.”
“Forgot who?”
“Not who, what.”
Ty followed her pointing finger and saw two brown paper cups sitting on the table by the door she’d entered. Next to them she’d left a white bag with his favorite bakery’s red logo printed across it.
“Those.” She handed him a cup. “I hope it’s not cold yet.”
“You’ve been back in Chicago what—five days? And you’ve already found Sugar’s?” Ty sniffed the aromatic wisps emanating from the tiny opening in the lid. “Costa Rican. Double dark, twice ground with real cream.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I take it you’re familiar with that brew.”
“You could say that.” He closed his eyes, inhaled and sighed. “This is going to be a very good day.”
“I should have given you the coffee first.”
The way she said it made him study her. A tiny smile kicked up the corner of her pretty mouth; her eyes sparkled as if enjoying a private joke.
“Because?”
“We could have avoided a lot of misunderstanding if I’d known one cup would mellow you out for the whole day.”
“Okay, probably not the whole day,” Ty admitted. “But it’s a very good start. Thank you.” He sipped the drink and allowed himself a moment to savor it. A crackling bag drew him back to the reality of the Haven’s less than immaculate kitchen.
“I suppose you’re not into apple Danish?” She held out one of his favorite delicacies. When he didn’t immediately take it, she shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m starved. I bought four thinking I’d have one for breakfast, one for lunch and share the other two. Guess I’ll keep some for tomorrow.”
“I don’t see any need for you to suffer like that.” Ty plucked the golden pastry from her fingertips. “I’m happy to help out.” He bit into it quickly, so she couldn’t snatch it back, then faked wide-eyed innocence. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I eating yours?”
Ty’s mouth watered. He’d missed breakfast, and dinner the night before was a faint memory of peanut butter and dill pickles. Jack’s favorite. They made a decent sandwich if you were starving, but only just.
“You don’t look very sorry.”
“I truly am.” He held the uneaten portion toward her assuming his saddest look.
“Nice gesture.” She took a tiny bite, laughed at him. “You don’t do pathetic well, you do know that?”
Ty gave it a second effort but she merely shook her head.
“Forget it. I prefer apricots, anyway.”
“You have apricot Danish, too? That’s another favorite of mine.” He enjoyed watching laughter change her face. “Yours has more icing.”
“Tough.” She took another bite, displaying not the least hint of regret.
“As your boss, I feel compelled to say—”
“Thank you, Cassidy. You’ve saved my life. Again.” She tilted her head sideways in a sassy fashion. “That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”
“Sort of.”
“There’s a guy outside—hey, nobody said anything about food. I love Danish.” Mac glanced back and forth between the two of them like a puppy who doesn’t know which benefactor to attack first.
“That must be Davis.” Cassidy dabbed her lips with a napkin and held out the bag. “We meet again, Mac. Help yourself. There’s plenty.” She grabbed her coat.
“Maybe you should wait to sample the goodies till later, Mac.” Ty eyed the pastry bag, licked his lips. “At least until we see what Cassidy’s friends have brought us.”
“Until you get your gums around it, you mean. No way.” Mac chose his Danish and carried it with him as he followed them upstairs, smacking his lips to taunt Ty.
Ty pulled on his jacket thinking how Mac accepted everyone at face value. But Ty had a thousand questions about their chef.
Was she married? Why had she left Europe? Did she have any family?
“Tyson St. John, meet my friend Chef Davis Longfellow. Davis, Mac.”
This guy was a chef? He looked like a wrestler and it had nothing to do with the thick down coat he wore. Ty exchanged greetings before the gigantic stainless-steel units lying on the flatbed attached to a half-ton grabbed his attention. They looked like they’d require a crane to lift them off.
“Thank you so much for the donation, Davis,” he said, meaning it. “It’s very generous of you. The Haven will put them to good use.”
“Then that’s thanks enough.” Davis hopped on the back of the flatbed and began undoing the ropes that secured the units. “God sure moved in a timely fashion on this.”
“Why do you say that?” Ty applied himself to untying a second set of ropes at the back of the truck, jumped when Davis’s laugh burst out like a clap of thunder.
“‘Why?’ he asks. Let’s see, I’ve been waiting for my new refrigeration units for close to six months. Last week the vendor called to say they had been lost in shipping, that they couldn’t supply for another eight weeks at best.”
“Bad news.”
“It was, until last night. After the dinner rush, I got a call. The truck had mysteriously arrived in town. It was on a rush order, and if we couldn’t get my stuff unloaded right away I’d have to wait till they were able to come back around—some time next week, while I’m on vacation.” He tossed the rope free, gave Ty a questioning look.
“Okay,” Ty agreed. “That does sound like God put in some overtime.”
“It
