“Maia.”
“What?”
“Sometimes we take you for granted.”
Her cheeks pinked up. “No problem. Now, go talk to Amanda about those etchings.”
****
Only a few guests strolled along the brick paths in the light of the Chinese lanterns because the air was cool and most of the ladies sported a great deal of bare skin. There were always guests who found the gardens irresistible, especially since the Hammonds didn’t allow smoking in their home. At this moment, no one lingered nearby. Juli stood on the steps and gulped air.
The freshness of the coastal North Carolina evening washed over her. It cooled her hot face and stilled the buzzing in her head. As her breathing steadied, she could almost smell the sea salt crispness in the air even though they were a mile or more from the ocean.
She shivered as her taut muscles relaxed. She didn’t understand the panic attacks. They’d become more frequent. Was this one over a stranger? It wasn’t as if she wanted a man in her life. Or anyone. She was good alone. It was better that way. Simpler. No confusion or disappointment about who could be trusted or depended upon.
She didn’t want to go back inside yet. Hugging the empty tray to her chest, she stepped down to the brick path. A short distance away, an ivy-covered alcove sheltered a bench half-hidden in shadow. She hurried toward it, not seeing the outstretched pants leg until it was too late and she nearly landed on top of the person already seated there.
“Sorry,” Juli gasped and stepped back.
“My fault. Too quiet. I’m sorry.”
A man’s voice. He sounded weak, but the darkness disguised his appearance. Moonlight filtering into the alcove touched him, increasing the pallor of his skin which seemed almost to glow in the dimness. Juli smelled no alcohol, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t drunk or drugged up.
“Are you ill?”
He laughed softly. “I just need to rest.”
“I understand. Sorry to have bothered you.” She started to move away.
He leaned forward. The light picked out his profile. “Are you working here tonight?”
She looked at her tray. It marked her, labeled her. An emblem of her status. She wasn’t worried about status. She’d given up the luxury of pride a long time ago.
“I’d better get back.” She turned and the rubber tip of her heel caught in a gap between the bricks. It tore off. After some inelegant stumbling, she avoided falling, but that was the least of her worries.
She grabbed the heel from the ground and removed her shoe. “No, no, no—” She tried to push the heel back on, but knew it was futile. It was a cheap shoe, not intended to be fixed, but discarded when its life was done.
“No spares? Maybe glue would help.”
She didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and worked to pull herself together. Her head ached. Her ponytail, worn low on the back of her head, was too tight. It hurt her scalp. Everything was spinning out of control and she was too discouraged to care—almost.
“Sorry, not funny. Are you alright? What will you do now?”
She sat on the bench beside him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see him more clearly, but his eyes were still no more than black holes in his face, as dark as the night. Her skirt rode up her thighs and she tugged at it. Not made for sitting. Wait staff don’t sit.
Juli shook her head. “I’m going to get fired. I wouldn’t care except I’ll have to find a new evening job.”
“This is extra work? Moonlighting?”
She liked the sound of his voice. Low and warm, it soothed the rougher edge from her mood. “I can’t live on what I make at my day job.”
“Why would you be fired? It’s not your fault the shoe broke.”
“I shouldn’t have been out here.” Embarrassed, she added, “Sorry. I’m whining.”
“Me, too. I drove and shouldn’t have.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was sick recently. I’m better now, just overestimated how much better.”
She heard the forlorn note in his voice and something moved in her heart, a little tilt that nudged the complexion of the evening and her attitude, some sense that she was the lucky one sitting here. She wasn’t used to being the fortunate one and it moved her to friendliness.
“I got a ride in with someone else and he won’t be leaving for hours.” She had decided to write this job off and her spirits lifted. She suppressed a laugh, but it warmed her nevertheless, and the lightness coursed through her. “Honestly, getting fired is no big deal. I never liked this job anyway.”
“Do you drive?”
“I have a license, if that’s what you’re asking.” She’d owned a clunker until recently, but sold it for scrap when she couldn’t afford repairs and insurance, too.