Hang Tough(66)
“Come on. My turn. I’m here, I’m stocking up.”
And stock up Riss did—in record time. Within ten minutes she’d tossed two frilly shirts, five basic tank tops, identical in style but different colors, and a pair of jeans into her cart.
At the checkout stand, a woman coming in the front doors stopped and said, “Larissa?”
Riss muttered fuck before she plastered on a smile. “Hey, Dodie! Long time no see.”
“I’m surprised to see you shopping.”
“Don’t tell my mother,” Riss said in a pleading tone. “I still have nightmares about that prom dress.”
“I’ve kept your other secrets, haven’t I?” The apple-shaped and apple-cheeked woman—who looked to be in her late fifties—focused on Jade. “Who’s your friend?”
“Sorry. Dodie, this is Jade Evans. She’s Garnet’s granddaughter. Jade, this is my mother’s cousin, Dodie.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jade said.
“Dodie is the head cook up at the Split Rock,” Riss said. “She’s been there since the place first opened, right?”
“Right.”
“There’ve been some changes with Hugh leaving. How’s everything going up there?”
Dodie sighed. “Hectic. We’re at full capacity through the summer. Everyone in every department is stretched thin, so we’re all tired and cranky. Naturally that’s when Lou-Lou gives notice, claiming she’s developed a bulging disc. I don’t care that she’s my cousin. I wanna throttle her.”
A calculating look settled on Riss’s face. “It sucks that you’re short staffed. Lou-Lou . . . she wasn’t the baker?”
“Only thing she baked was her brain. Besides, we don’t make baked goods in-house; we order them from an artisan bakery in Casper. Lou-Lou is a prep cook.”
“You’re kidding! What a coincidence. Jade was a prep cook in New York City.”
Shut it, Riss.
“You don’t say.” Dodie’s eyes turned shrewd. “Are you just here visiting?”
Everyone asked her that. And it hadn’t come up between her and Tobin since the night they’d gone for a run. “I’ll be staying longer than I planned.”
Riss hip-checked Jade. “That’s because she’s hooked herself a gen-u-wine Wyoming cowboy and she’s in love.”
“Riss!” Jade felt her face and neck get fiery hot. If Dodie had been at the Split Rock since it’d opened, then she probably knew Tobin pretty well. Hopefully Riss wouldn’t share that.
“We are hiring, if you’re interested. It’s only part-time. The shift starts early in the morning and prep is usually done by eleven.”
“Oh, Jade is familiar with early morning shifts. She mentioned that she had to get up at three a.m. to catch the subway to her job that started at the ungodly hour of four thirty.”
“Good lord, I can’t even imagine that!” Dodie said.
Riss started tossing the items from her cart onto the conveyor belt. “Great chatting with you, Dodie. We’ve gotta scoot. But Jade will be in touch.”
“I hope so.”
Jade paid for her purchases and didn’t say anything to Riss until they were outside. “What was that?” she demanded.
“Serendipity,” Riss deadpanned.
“No. Seriously. I am not going to work at the Split Rock! Even if they are hiring.”
“Why not? You are qualified.”
“Because it would be weird if I said, ‘Hey, Tobin, by the way, now I’ll be working at the same place as you! We can live in the same house and work together. Maybe we can even carpool!’” She slammed the passenger door.
Riss rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But at least ask him about it, okay?”
“I think he’s mad at me because I cancelled our date after . . .” I had a mini-meltdown after the “misunderstanding.”
“I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either. Especially not after what you told me the other day.” Riss looked at her watch. “Cool beans. We’re running ahead of schedule. Follow me to the truck stop.”
During the drive, Jade flashed back to the first conversation she’d had with Riss over coffee. Normally Jade had problems connecting with people. She worried about saying the wrong thing or looking like a nerd, so she erred on the side of not saying much at all. But Riss just blew right past her defenses from the moment they’d sat down.
“So what type of guy do you usually go for?” Riss had asked.
Big, built, with a beautiful smile and a skilled mouth.
“I don’t know that I have a type.”