readiness to slam it shut.
“What do you want?” she asked. Her hair was pulled back severely, and she had high cheekbones that showed the hollows of her face. Wearing no makeup, she had the most incredible eyes he’d ever seen—large, brown and watery. He wished she’d smile. He’d like to see how her eyes changed when she did. Her dress was faded and too large, as if she’d recently lost a lot of weight.
“You are Rosanna Turner, right?”
She nodded.
“I’d like to talk to you about Bach’s.”
“Don’t you mean Thorn’s?” she asked flatly.
He waited a second before nodding. “I suppose I do.”
“Not interested.”
She pulled her face back and moved to close the small rectangular opening. David stuck his foot in the door to stop her. It was the first time in his life he could remember doing something so impulsive.
“At least give me a moment to explain why I’ve been trying to reach you. You haven’t answered any of my calls and I’ve come this far.”
Her expressive eyes raked him up and down for a full ten seconds, before she stepped back and allowed him into the apartment. The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. It was lit better, due to the large set of windows. The furniture was old, past the comfortable stage, but not as bad as the front door.
“Would you like something to drink—coffee, tea, water?”
He heard no reluctance in her voice and took that as a good sign.
“Coffee would be fine if it’s already made.”
She didn’t say anything, only turned and walked to the small kitchen. The distance couldn’t be more than three or four steps from where he stood. David waited, looking through the window. Across the street was an empty lot. The grass was overgrown and several rusted-out garbage cans were strewn throughout the place.
She returned with two mugs. “Cream and sugar?” she asked.
“Black,” David told her, turning away from the window. After the light from outside, the room seemed darker. He took the mug and sipped the coffee. It was good.
Rosanna sat down on the out-of-date sofa and David took the seat across from her in a single armchair.
“You’re aware that Thorn’s has bought the Bachs’ store,” he said, stating the obvious, but he needed a way to break the ice. She was cold and his words didn’t appear to chip even a sliver of the ice away.
“I’m here to see to the building of the new store and I believe it can be a centerpiece in Logan Beach.”
Rosanna looked steadily at him, but she didn’t say a word. Both her hands held the coffee cup, yet she did not raise it to her mouth. He wondered what she was thinking. Her quietness unnerved him. David had stood before judges with the worst reputations. He’d stared down criminals and bullies. Yet this underweight woman was making him sweat with her mute stare.
“You were the assistant manager at Bach’s.”
After a moment she finally said, “It was my last position. I started there as an assistant buyer.”
“The Bachs spoke highly of you and your abilities.”
Her mouth moved slightly. It was the shadow of the beginning of a smile. Then her expression quickly returned to its original blank stare.
“Are you having a bad day?” David suddenly asked.
The question seemed to get her attention and knock her off center. She set the cup on the table between them.
“No better, no worse than any other day.” Her tone was sour.
“Are you working? I mean do you have another job since Bach’s?” He didn’t think so. It was the middle of the workday and she was home. Her hair and lack of makeup told him she’d been home all day. She might work from home, of course, but there was no evidence of it in the rooms he could see, and that was most of the apartment.
“Yes,” she answered coldly. “I work nights.”
She offered nothing more. That told him that whatever she was doing, it was below her abilities.
David smiled, hoping she’d see that he was about to offer her something better. He couldn’t tell by her expression.
“Do you like your job? Is it satisfying?”
She gazed at him for a moment. “It pays the bills.”
She didn’t answer his question, but what she said revealed more than an answer would have.
“I’d like you to come back.”
“Back to what?”
“To Thorn’s.”
“I’m not interested in working at Thorn’s. The Bachs have sold out. The store is gone. They’ve moved on, so will I.”
David put down his cup and clasped his hands together. He stood up and looked around, then brought his gaze back to her.
“Is that what you’re doing?” His voice was stronger, back in his lawyer-addressing-a-witness mode. “It sure doesn’t seem so.”
The comment brought her out of her seat.
“What do you know about it?” she challenged, her eyes bright and angry.
“Not much,” he said. “But I know the person the Bachs talked about, a woman who is competent and efficient, is not the one standing here.”
“Get out,” she ordered.
His comment angered her. He’d designed it that way. David needed to pull her out of this depression, which seemed to have not only settled on her, but also on every aspect of this room.
“You know nothing about me, nothing about anything. You should try to find out something about the people here before you go blundering into their lives. It hasn’t been easy down here since the storm and all the lives that were lost. So why don’t you take yourself and your car back to New York and leave us alone.”
She’d seen him drive up, he thought. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned the car. David caught the underlying message in her comment. He understood that what his car cost could probably pay for this apartment several times over. He wondered if she had enough food to eat, and it caught him like a blow to his gut. He picked up the coffee cup and drank, unwilling to waste a drop in case she couldn’t afford more.
“The storm was like a war,” she said. “It changed people. They are no longer the ones they were before it happened.”
David should be angry with her attitude, but he admired her spirit. She really felt for the people of Logan Beach and how they were treated.
“I may not know that, and I can’t fix everyone
