“Teri,” Joan cried in utter exasperation. “Don’t be an idiot. He probably wants to thank you.”
“As he should,” Teri reminded her friends. The man owed her, and all she’d gotten for her trouble was an escorted exit from the competition. Not only had Bobby Polgar not paid her, he hadn’t seen fit to thank her, either.
“Miss?” the man asked again.
Everyone in the salon seemed to be watching her, waiting for her to decide.
For a second she was tempted to walk out to the car and listen politely while the great Bobby Polgar deigned to grant her an audience. But frankly, she wasn’t that hard up. Nor did she want to give this…chessman the idea that she was at his beck and call.
“Please thank Mr. Polgar for coming,” Teri said smoothly, “but explain that I have a full schedule today and am unavailable until after six o’clock.” With that, she turned to see her friends and customers staring at her.
“I don’t think Mr. Polgar will be pleased,” the man said.
Teri shook her head. In her opinion, too many people already catered to Bobby Polgar’s likes and dislikes. It was about time someone stood up to him.
When she returned to Justine, it seemed the entire salon had gone silent. “What?” Teri demanded.
Activity resumed, and she heaved a sigh of relief.
A few minutes later, Denise was back. “That skinny guy asked me to give you this.” She handed her a hundred-dollar bill.
Teri shrugged and stuffed it in her hip pocket. Apparently there was even more money in chess than she’d guessed. A hundred bucks for a haircut was about four times what she normally charged. She’d say one thing for Bobby Polgar—he was a decent tipper.
When Teri finished Justine’s cut, Grace Harding arrived for a perm. Grace tried to book all her perms on weekends because she worked full-time at the library.
In fact, Grace’s perm was the first of three Teri had scheduled for the day.
By six that evening, her feet hurt and she hadn’t managed to have lunch. She was hungry, tired and feeling irritable about a certain spoiled chess player who was far too accustomed to getting his own way. Still, Teri was gratified that Bobby Polgar had made the effort to find out who she was and where she worked.
Actually, that was a noteworthy feat. She hadn’t given anyone her name, although now that she recalled, some of those pushy security people had checked her identification.
Teri was the last person to leave the salon that night. She set a final load of towels in the dryer, turned off the lights and headed out the door, locking it carefully before leaving the mall. Her feet hurt, and she was looking forward to a soak in her tub, a microwave pizza and a good book.
The stretch limo in the rear of the mall lot caught her attention right away. As soon as Teri appeared, the car started moving in her direction.
Teri froze.
Sure enough, the car slowed to a crawl and stopped directly beside her. The door opened. Apparently she was supposed to get in, no questions asked.
She bent over and looked inside.
Just as she’d suspected, there sat Bobby Polgar. This car could easily seat ten thin people or maybe eight women her size. Yet the only person inside was the chess player.
“Why wouldn’t you see me?” he asked.
“I told your driver I was booked for the day. I was.”
“Do you have time now?” He gestured toward the seat next to him. She studied him critically—he was of average height and build and wore glasses with dark frames. Quite nerdy looking, really. He didn’t appear to give much thought to fashion…or anything other than chess.
“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Her question seemed to surprise him. “So we can talk.”
“What do we have to talk about?” she demanded.
“Are you always this much trouble?”
“No,” she told him truthfully. “But I had a very busy day and I’m tired.”
He frowned as though he found her statement puzzling. “You weren’t busy last Saturday?”
“I had a lighter schedule. I rescheduled two afternoon appointments in order to get to Seattle.” She didn’t mention the money she’d borrowed.
“Your diagnosis was correct,” he reminded her. He leaned forward and offered her his hand. “I won the match.”
Capitulating, Teri reluctantly climbed inside the limo, which was the biggest one she’d ever seen. She ran her hand over the plush upholstery and gazed up. The ceiling had lights that changed color every few seconds, subtle pastel colors that gave the interior a soft, flattering glow.
“Would you like something to drink?” Bobby asked.
“What’ve you got?”
“What do you want?” was his reply.
“A beer sounds good.”
“A beer,” he repeated as if he’d never heard the word before.
“Preferably a cold one.”
Bobby pushed a button and spoke into an intercom. “A cold beer for the lady, James.”
Teri nearly burst out laughing. “Your driver’s name is James?”
“That amuses you?” He wore the same puzzled look he had earlier.
She did a poor job of hiding her amusement. “It’s just so…clichéd.”
“Is it?” he asked, his expression still bewildered.
The car took off.
“Hey, just a minute,” Teri said, glancing around, suddenly unsure. “Where are we going?”
Bobby stared at her. “To get you a cold beer. Don’t worry. James can be trusted.”
“I trust James. You’re the one who’s got me worried.”
Bobby Polgar nearly smiled. “I like you. You’re a little on the fat side but—”
“And you’re on the rude side,” she interrupted. “Now take me back to my car.”
“In a minute.” He seemed to be in no hurry.
She crossed her arms. Never had she dreamed she’d be riding in a vehicle like this. “I thought you would’ve left the area by now.”
“Aren’t you pleased to see me?”
She shrugged. “Not particularly.”
He frowned.
Teri supposed that Mr. Bobby Big Shot wasn’t used to someone unwilling to pander to his gigantic ego. “You know, you didn’t pay me last Saturday. That’s fine, although payment at the time is customary. I didn’t intend on charging you—but it would’ve been nice if you’d offered.”
“You got the money?”
“Yes, thank you. That was a pretty hefty tip.”
“You deserved it.”
“You didn’t bother to thank me, either.”
“No,” he agreed, “I didn’t. I don’t think much about anything other than chess.”
As if she hadn’t figured that out.
The car stopped. About three minutes later the door opened and James, the man who’d come into the salon earlier, handed Teri a cold beer.
“Thank you, James,” she murmured, stifling a laugh.
The driver began to close the door.
“James,” Bobby said simply, “I’d like one, too.”
James did a double take, obviously wondering if he’d heard correctly. “You, sir?”
“Yes, me.”
“Right away, sir.”
The door closed. “You like yes-men, don’t you?”
Bobby studied her a moment and once more, came close to smiling. “When you’re as rich and celebrated as I am, most everyone is a yes-man.”
She flipped back the pull tab and took a long, thirsty swallow. “Not me.”
“So I noticed.”
The door opened again, and James gave his boss a second can of beer. Bobby took it and examined the top. He reached for the tab, but apparently couldn’t get his finger under it.
“Oh, for the love of heaven,” Teri muttered. She grabbed it, balancing her own can between her knees. “You’re helpless.”
Bobby met her gaze and then he did smile. “You’re the first person to really see that, Miss Teri Miller. I am rather helpless.”
Twelve
“Cal’s here,” Linnette said loudly, peering out the living room window on Easter afternoon. She’d been helping her mother in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and had begun to set the table. Dropping the curtain, Linnette hurried to the front door, but then felt she needed to give her family a reminder. “Mom, Dad, please don’t embarrass him,” she cautioned.
Her father glanced up from the Seattle newspaper, which he read from front to back every Sunday. “About what?”
“He’s been seeing a speech therapist in Silverdale and he’s kind of self-conscious. Sometimes he hesitates between words, but don’t pay any attention to that, okay?”
“No problem.” Her father went back to reading the paper.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” her mother said from the kitchen doorway.
The doorbell chimed and Linnette opened it to Cal, who couldn’t have looked handsomer had he tried. He wore a tan leather jacket, polished boots and pressed jeans. His beautiful blue eyes searched hers out, and Linnette reassured him with a grin. Reaching for his hand, she pulled him into the house.
“Hello, Cal,” her father said, briefly lowering the paper.
“Welcome, Cal,” her mother called from the kitchen.
“It smells good in here,” Cal said without stumbling over a single word.
Linnette’s heart swelled with pride at his fluent delivery. “That’s the ham. Mom coats it with brown sugar and maple syrup and tops it with cloves. I’ve never tasted any ham better than hers. It’s just wonderful, so be sure and compliment her.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll package up some of the leftovers for you. There’s always plenty.”
“Hey, don’t be giving away my ham,” her father chastised in a humorous tone.
Cal looked around the room and Linnette knew what he was thinking. She answered the question he’d wordlessly asked. “Mack’s on his way,” she said. “He phoned. Apparently the bridge traffic is a nightmare.”
“Gloria?”
“Will be here by four.”
“She’s working. Low man on the totem pole,” Roy explained. “In this case, low woman.”
Her newfound sister was a Bremerton police officer. Before moving to Cedar Cove, Roy had worked for the Seattle Police department. Linnette found it interesting—and very fitting—that Gloria had chosen the same profession.
She’d initially made contact with her birth parents by sending anonymous postcards, flower arrangements and other benign but puzzling messages. Eventually, Roy unearthed the mystery and Gloria was welcomed into the family. However, they were still finding their way with one another, treading carefully, creating a new dynamic. This afternoon would be a test.
“Gloria said we should start without her,” Linnette murmured, “but I told her we wouldn’t.”
“She’ll call if she gets held up,” Roy said confidently. He’d spent quite a bit of time with Gloria, and at first Linnette had been afraid that sharing her father would be difficult, since she and her dad had a close relationship. But it didn’t bother her at all—mainly, Linnette believed, because she had Cal. Since their working hours often conflicted, they weren’t able to see each other as often as they would’ve liked. If it was up to Linnette, that would be every day. But she had to be content with phone calls and seeing each other twice a week, if that.