knew what I needed. This was a private sale. She got me a tour. The moment I saw it, I knew this was what I wanted. The kitchen is a chef’s dream. The grounds are unbelievable. And there are suites so when my parents come, even though there’s a guest house they won’t stay in, they can use one of the suites.”
“They won’t stay in the guest house?” Stella repeated.
“Nope. Not a chance. My mother says she refuses to give up the late-night girl talks, and if I’m truthful, I enjoy them. I don’t want to give them up either. Dad says he doesn’t want to give up raiding the refrigerator, that he starves without me in the house to cook.”
“I thought your mother cooked.”
“He claims she’s given up cooking the good dishes in favor of the kind that are supposed to be healthy.” Shabina laughed. “Naturally, he says this in her hearing so she chases him around the room, just so he can let her catch him.”
“Your parents sound lovely, Shabina.”
“They are lovely. So many couples wouldn’t have survived the trauma of their only child being taken and gone for so long, but it made them stronger. They have a bond that seems unbreakable. I want that for myself but …” She broke off and shook her head. “I think one has to actually go out with or be friends with a man before they can have an unbreakable bond.”
Stella laughed. “That’s true. Poor Sam, to hear him talk, he waged a secret campaign for the last two years because I was so closed off to the idea of a relationship.”
“Sam is so impossible to read,” Shabina said. “I would watch him at the Grill when we all got together. He always came. He and Denver seem to be good friends. And it’s very clear that Carl Montgomery likes him. Carl wasn’t too happy with you stealing Sam out from under him. He told me it’s hard to find good workers, and Sam was one of the best he’d ever had. Skilled and had a good work ethic. Around here, with the dirtbags coming in, you just don’t get that combination often.”
“We were dirtbags, Shabina,” Stella said. “We came here and didn’t even know we were considered dirtbags.”
“I showered daily.” Shabina burst out laughing. “I rented a house because of the dogs. But we were talking about Sam. He always sat on that one barstool just a little apart from us, one barstool over or just away from our table. His face was in the shadows. Did you notice that?”
“I noticed everything about Sam,” Stella admitted. “Denver usually sat next to him. Sometimes, if Carl came in, he did. And once in a while, Craig. I’ll bet you noticed when Craig came in, although he wasn’t in uniform.” Stella nudged Shabina.
Shabina laughed again. “You’re awful. See why I always end up blushing when any of you mention poor Craig? The point is, it was impossible to tell what Sam was thinking or feeling. He was just there, but not in this creepy way, more like a protective way.”
That surprised Stella. “You got that feeling from him?”
“Most of the time, yes. Unless Sean and his crew were insulting me on the dance floor, and then he just walked over and intense menacing vibes would pour off him. He didn’t have to say anything. He just looked at them and they usually left or went back to the bar. He could be scary. I ought to know, I’ve had protection details most of my life.”
“I just stared at him and hoped I didn’t blurt out something stupid like he was utterly gorgeous or impossibly sweet,” Stella admitted. “Zahra likes to ply me with Moscow Mules when I go to the Grill with her, or worse, mojitos, because I drink too many of them without realizing I’m doing it, then I say things I shouldn’t.”
“He’s sweet?” Shabina asked.
Stella nodded. “These last couple of years, while he worked for me, he never asked me questions. Never put me on the spot. If I had the worst day ever, with some of the guests yelling their heads off at me, I’d go home and he’d be on my deck, grilling the best dinner ever. He’d point to a cooler and there would be ice-cold beer in it. He wouldn’t expect me to talk. He didn’t talk. I could go in and change, put my feet up and sit in my swing chair while he