I’m excited about my new May 20, 2020 release of VANILLA WITH A TWIST, so today’s #TT is from that! hee hee. What, exactly, are Deacon’s motives in helping Tandy? Inquiring minds – Tandy’s, in particular – want to know.
“Darla said these were caught this morning and are the true definition of fresh from the sea. I couldn’t resist. She gave me a sample of their”—he made air quotes with the tips of his fingers—“famous cocktail sauce to go along with it. Is it as renowned as she led me to believe?”
“More than their garlic knots, and that’s saying plenty.” She popped one of the warm and yeasty bread circles into her mouth.
They ate in silence for a few moments. It took everything in her not to devour the food like a pig at the trough, she was so hungry.
“Okay.” Deacon swiped his lips with a paper napkin. “We’ve both had a chance to eat a few bites, so why don’t you go ahead and tell me what’s on your mind.”
“What do you mean?”
He dipped his chin to his chest and regarded her over the top of his sunglasses. It was no wonder he was successful. If she’d had to sit across from him at a negotiation table, she’d have been the first to give in during a contest of wills.
She tried not to roll her eyes but found they had a mind of their own. “It’s just, well…”
He didn’t push, which earned him points for patience, something she was sorely lacking in, even on a good day.
“I’m not used to anyone helping me or”—she pointed at the table with her plastic fork—“feeding me. It’s a little, well, unnerving. I’ve been on my own a long time, taking care of myself, my business, and my son. And then one day, bam, you show up, and suddenly I’m eating lobster twice in a week when I haven’t had it for years, and my falling-apart machinery is being fixed without having to shell out hundreds of bucks I can’t spare. I’ve got a toolbox filled with stuff I could never afford, and my sink doesn’t leak anymore.”
“And those are bad things?”
“They’re unsettling things,” she shot back, her voice rising a notch. Determined not to let annoyance get the better of her, she dragged in a breath and mentally counted to five like she had so many times when she’d lived on her father’s farm. “It’s been my experience that men, er, people don’t go around doing stuff like that for other people they barely know, Deacon. Not without getting something in return. And what I can’t understand, what I can’t fathom, is why you would do what you’ve done for me this past week without the expectation of some kind of compensation. You know I don’t have the funds to pay you, so it makes me wonder what you’re really after.”
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