“Julia Harris.” She reached out to pull her into a hug. Left hand glittering with a single diamond wedding ring she still wore. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing? And those freckles across your nose! Adorable.” I noticed Julia’s shoulders tightened fractionally. “Except someone needs to help you out with that fringe of bangs, honey. And if I could say so, your color. You need to let your true color shine darlin’. Black is way too harsh for an angel like you.”
Color crawled up Julia’s throat. “DIY disaster.” She muttered.
“Mm.” Pearl’s gaze dropped to the half-moon scars peeking beneath Julia’s sleeve. “We serve mistakes here nightly. Sit.” She nodded toward a corner booth upholstered in split leather.
I slid in first, my thigh brushing Julia’s when she joined me. Every touch set me on fire a little more.
Pearl materialized with sweet tea in mason jars. “Number four special, extra gravy?”
I grunted assent.
“And for the angel girl?” Ma’s pen tapped her order book.
“The smallest salad—”
“Cornbread,” I interrupted. “With honey butter.”
Julia stiffened. “I can order—”
“You’re all bones.” It irritated me that she seemed to worry about her weight. She was clearly underfed. “Eat.”
Pearl snorted. “He gets that from me. Ran the PTA bake sales like boot camp.” She vanished behind swinging doors that hissed with grease-fire breath.
Julia traced a knife scar on the table. “Why am I here?”
I spun my fork, tines catching the low light. “You looked…” Metal screeched against wood. “… hungry.”
Across the room, Ma laughed at something the bartender said, but I didn’t miss her gaze darting back like a hawk circling prey. When the food came, I grabbed the pepper mill, grinding black snow across Julia’s greens.
“Tell me about Chicago.”
Her lettuce wilted under the dressing. “Museums, shopping. You know.”
“Don’t.” My knee pressed hers under the table. “Why’d you really take this job?”
A glob of gravy plopped onto my shirt. I made no move to wipe it.
“Money’s good.” She crumbled cornbread, golden crumbs falling on her plate, eyes glancing through her uneven bangs. “Steady.”
She studied her plate like it held the secrets of the universe.
“It’s a long way to Texas. We established you’re hidin’ here. I’d like to know from whom, and why?”
“Maybe I’d like to know why you hired me?” Her whisper cut through George Jones’s drunken crooning.
My thumb swiped honey butter from her lip. “Wanted somebody who knew what they were doin.’ Then, when I saw your resume. Felt right.”
Ma’s sudden reappearance made us jump. “Dessert? We got peach cobbler that’ll make you slap your grandma.”
It was time to go. “Check.”
Outside, cicadas screamed in the parking lot’s lonemesquite tree. Julia hugged herself against the cool summer evening. “I need to go home.”
“Fine. I’d prefer you’d stay in my guest room so you can relax. But Ma’s house is on club grounds too, so you’ll be safe. I still say you’d be more comfortable at my place.”
She’d moved away from me, and instinct had me grab her wrist.
Her pulse fluttered against my grip like a scared sparrow. “No more cages.”
