The Lottery Winner

“The weather brought Jack to me. And it took him away. He was struck by lightning during a freak sudden storm over the Gulf Stream. He fished, captained a charter boat service. I cooked his catch to help pay the bills when business was slow. That’s how I ended up with this place. I started with a food cart on the wharf, then moved up to this board-and-brick location twenty years ago.”

Miri’s resourcefulness reminded Jessamine of her mother, who baked and sold pies and canned peaches and preserves to supplement the orchard’s income. “Do you have children?”

“We were never blessed with our own, but when my sister passed I took over raising her boy. Logan grew up and moved away. But now he’s back.”

Something ominous in the last phrase piqued Jessamine’s curiosity, but she let it go. It was none of her business. As much as she wanted to linger, she could hear her brother scolding, Making friends isn’t a good idea. She set down the mug and rose. “Thank you for the coffee, Miri. I’m sorry for your loss. It sounds like you had a great marriage.”

“Oh, we did. But it’s not just missin’ Jack that has me upset. It’s the torrent of other pressures... Oh, never mind. I’ve enjoyed your company, Jessie. I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to an old lady’s problems.”

She didn’t. Glancing at the sun and acknowledging she wouldn’t be back in her compound before it fully rose, she sank back onto the chair. “You’re not old. You’re what my mama calls ‘experienced.’ So what else is wrong?”

“Truthfully, my nephew is driving me nuts. Logan moved back here after Jack died, and Lord, that boy hovers. He watches every move I make and tries to tell me how to run my business. I didn’t mind at first because...well, he needed to feel useful, but now...” She put a hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes. “I’ve had enough. Then yesterday, my best waitress called in to tell me her obstetrician has put her on complete bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. I was already one server short with our busy season just around the corner. If Logan gets wind that Carla’s gone—he never liked her because she’s...well...different—I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Don’t say anything. But Jessamine’s mouth opened anyway. “I waited tables all through college. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that difficult to train someone. You could probably have two new servers in no time.”

Miri’s hazel eyes sharpened. “Carla did all the training. Has for years. Do you have a job, Jessie?”

Jessamine’s toes curled in her sneakers. “Um...not at the moment.”

“Want one?”

Say no. “I won’t be here much longer.”

“Are you on vacation?”

“I’m kind of on a...sabbatical.” The word her father had used popped out.

“You could help me train the new hires.”

No. No. No. “Miri, I appreciate the offer, but you don’t even know me. I could be a criminal.”

“Are you?”

“No.” Jessamine sighed. Why couldn’t she lie?

“Then I know what I need to. You’re kind, compassionate and an experienced waitress. Please, Jessie. I’m desperate.”

She shouldn’t risk the exposure. “I really don’t need a job.”

“Just a week. Two at the most. Keep my customers happy and my nephew off my back while you train your replacements.”

Jessamine searched for an excuse and came up empty. You don’t owe this near stranger an explanation. Just. Say. No.

“We serve lunch and dinner Friday through Sunday but only dinner the rest of the week. I pay well. C’mon, Jessie. I need you. It would be a load off my mind if I didn’t have to close my doors because I don’t have enough staff to open tonight.”

Jessamine could practically hear the vacuum sound as she got sucked in. Filling out forms with her name and address wouldn’t be smart.

“Please?” Hazel eyes pleaded. “You’d be working with two other waitresses. One’s very experienced. The other’s not bad.”

Jessie was sick of her own company. Her vacation felt like solitary confinement. And tips were often cash. If she helped Miri, she could solve her own problem this time instead of relying on her family to send her money—money they couldn’t spare. She caved like soggy papier-mâché.

“I can help. But only if you’ll let me work for tips alone. No paycheck. No paper trail.”

Miri’s pale eyebrows shot up. Her gaze turned speculative. “Okay. You’re hired. I’ll get you a copy of Carla’s schedule. Be right back.”

Miri disappeared into the building. Again, Jessamine heard Brandon’s voice. Not smart, Li’l Bit. You should have said no. Run while you can.

But her body hadn’t obeyed the order by the time Miri returned and slid a paper and pen across the table. “I’ll need your phone number and clothing sizes.”

“I, um...”

Her cellular and home phone numbers had been hacked within hours of the lottery win announcement, and the begging calls had come around the clock from strangers, “friends” and relatives so distant no one could remember them. Their sob stories of children with cancer or single moms living in cars had been so convincing and heart wrenching that Jessamine had wanted to help them all. Her father’s intervention was the only thing that had stopped her from blowing that first check on strangers. He’d warned her she’d soon be broke if she didn’t toughen up.

Then her brother had confiscated her old phone and disconnected her house phone. He’d taken her to buy a box of disposable units from different stores, then he’d given her strict instructions to use a phone for two weeks then discard it and open a new one. She no longer kept a phone long enough to learn the number.

Miri waited. “I, um...don’t know my number.”

“None of us do anymore. It’s a push-button world these days. I’ll need it if I need to call you to change your schedule. No one will have it except me. I’ll wait while you look it up.”

Suspecting she might be making a mistake she’d live to regret, Jessamine reluctantly pulled out her phone, turned it on and wrote down the number that appeared on the screen. She added her clothing sizes and handed the paper back to Miri. The woman folded it and tucked it into her bra.

“I’ll keep it right here. No one will get it.” Miri reached across the table and covered Jessamine’s hand. “Do you need a safe place to stay, Jessie?”

The question threw her. “I have one. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? Because I have a guest room over my garage. You can stay as long as you want. And Jack left me a .30-30. Kicks like hell but gets the job done.”

Miri was offering protection and even willing to use a rifle to provide it. She must think Jessamine was running from someone—an abusive ex or something. The thoughtfulness of a stranger made her eyes sting. She squeezed Miri’s hand. “I’m good. But thank you.”

“Then I’ll see you today at three. I’ll have a uniform for you and we’ll go over my system. Jessie, I can’t thank you enough for helping me through this rough patch.”

Jessamine rose and beat a hasty retreat, kicking herself the whole way back to her vehicle. She debated not returning tonight. Miri only had her phone number. No last name. No address. Jessamine would simply have to toss this phone to avoid any calls.

But she’d promised. Miri needed her help training waitresses and running interference with the bossy nephew. Jessam—Jessie could do that. And then she’d go home with a clear conscience.

But she had to learn to say no. Starting now.

* * *

THE PRETTY BRUNETTE caught Logan’s eye even before he took his customary seat at the oyster bar. She was lean but in shape, and she had great legs. Sleek muscles flexed beneath the smooth, tanned skin revealed by the Fisherman’s Widow’s uniform of a tank top and denim skort. A thick, loose braid hung to the middle of her back with escaped strands of hair draping her cheeks.

She’d waited tables before, though not here. It showed in the easy way she carried five loaded plates on one arm, refilled glasses with a flick of her wrist and kept the hush puppy baskets full. She had an engaging smile for the customers, but tension lingered behind it.

That stiffness, combined with the way her hypervigilant gaze snapped toward the entrance each time the front door of his aunt’s restaurant opened, kept him ensnared. It was as if she feared who might walk in. He’d entered through the kitchen, so she’d missed his arrival.

His aunt came through the swinging doors and set a plate on the bar in front of him. “See what you think of this. I’m experimenting with the mahi.”

He eyed the dish. He’d spent a large part of his life being her number-one guinea pig. Most times, that was a good thing. “What is it?”

“Coconut-crusted mahi sliders with pineapple chutney.”

Sounded edible. He took a bite. The tender, flaky meat practically melted in his mouth, and the seasonings were the perfect balance between sweet and hot. He chewed, then swallowed. “This recipe’s a keeper. Who’s the new waitress?”

Miri’s gaze swung across the crowded dining room, stopping where his hovered. “Jessie. She’s a sweet girl. Experienced, too.”

“Where’s Carla? Late again?”

Miri hesitated, and he braced himself for the excuse du jour. “Carla’s doctor ordered her to stay off her feet for the rest of her pregnancy.”

“She’s barely pregnant.”

“She’s six months along, and her blood pressure spiked.”

He should have known the woman would find the one excuse for which she legally couldn’t be fired. He didn’t like her or her overly tattooed and pierced stoner boyfriend. They had a habit of borrowing money from Miri and never paying it back. Advances on her salary, his ass. The amounts were never deducted from the next check. His aunt was a pushover and a sucker for a sob story.

But on the positive side, Carla would be out for months. If he was lucky, she’d stay at home with her kid and never return.

“What do you know about the new girl?” With only one road on or off the islands, you tended to recognize residents quickly. “She’s not from here.”

“She’s honest and a good waitress.”

“How do you know if she’s honest? Did you do a criminal background check using the link I gave you?”

That earned him a scowl. “She says she isn’t a criminal, and I believe her.”

He didn’t like where this was going. “Did she pass the drug test?”

“I just hired her this morning, Logan. We haven’t had time for that yet.”

“You’re supposed to screen them before they start. Did you at least check her references?”

Miri grabbed a towel and wiped the bar, avoiding his gaze. “No time for that yet, either.”

“Give me her application. I’ll do it now. She can stop by the lab in the morning.” He rose and dug in his pocket for his cell phone.

“Sit down and put that thing away. Finish your dinner, Logan. I’ll get to the paperwork when I get to it. I needed Jessie tonight. You can see we’re still a couple of servers short. Everyone’s having to work seven days a week. Jessie’s covering double the tables she should be, and she’s doing it well. She even knew the computer system.”

“She’s another one of your strays, isn’t she?”

“Why must you always think the worst of everyone I hire?”

“Because you usually hire everyone else’s rejects. Is she staying in the apartment?” He’d spent time there too before he’d finished renovating his cottage.

“No, smarty-pants. Jessie has her own place. Stop trying to do my job. I’ve been running this business without your guidance for decades. I know how to hire employees. And quit being so suspicious of everyone. You’ll make yourself miserable if you don’t.”

“I’m looking out for your best interest. Do you see how she’s watching the door?”

“Let it go, Logan.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine. The Fisherman’s Widow is fine. We don’t need a watchdog.” Miri sighed. “You act like I have no sense at all.”

“You don’t when it comes to people. You’re too softhearted. You surround yourself with leeches and losers. You let them take advantage of your generosity.”

Red flagged Miri’s cheeks. “You have no room to accuse me of choosing my associates unwisely.”

He winced. Miri didn’t have a mean bone in her body. That was as close to a low blow as she’d get. Because it was true—he hadn’t always been wise. His failure to see the situation right in front of him was the reason she had no cash reserves or retirement funds.

“Speaking of leeches and losers...that one’s a prime example,” Miri added in a waspy tone. He twisted to follow her scowling gaze and spotted the private detective he employed crossing the dining room. She shot I a scathing look when he took a seat. “I wish you’d hold your business fleecings elsewhere.”

The PI ignored Miri’s insult and smiled. “Well, if it ain’t my little ray of Florida sunshine. Always a pleasure to see you, too, Miri.” He delivered the words in an exaggerated version of his New Jersey accent, which seemed to irritate Logan’s aunt even more.

“What kind of name is I, anyway?” she snapped.

“Nobody can spell Ignatius. I save ’em the trouble by keeping it short and sweet. Kind of like you do, Miriam Louise.”

Logan’s aunt stiffened at the use of her given name, then stomped back into the kitchen. Logan shook his head. “Why do you needle her?”

“She started it. She treats me like a dog shit on her shoe. That whole lip-curling thing bugs the crap out of me. And what in the hell is wrong with using my initial?”

Miri got along with everyone. Why not I? The two had been at each other’s throats since their first meeting over a year ago.

“Anything?” Logan asked the PI.

“Nope. Trail went cold in Porto Alegre, Brazil.”

“Two people can’t just vanish.” Frustration killed Logan’s appetite. He pushed the unfinished meal aside.

“Your wife and business partner have. For now. They’ll turn up eventually. Finding them depends on how much money you want to spend. Me, I’d say good riddance and cut my losses.”

“Ex-wife and ex–business partner,” he corrected. “I can’t let this go. They destroyed my reputation when they embezzled our clients’ funds. No reputable firm will hire me.”

“What’s wrong with the setup you got here? You get a free meal every night. You got a decent place to stay. You set your own hours and make enough to get by doing people’s taxes. What else do you need?”

“I want them to admit what they did and clear my name.”

“Hate to tell ya, Nash, but even if we find ’em and they’re extradited to the States and they sing like canaries, it won’t get the stench off ya. Stuff like that tends to stick.”

Logan refused to accept that. He’d done nothing criminal, and he had to prove it. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I shrugged. “Your dime. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya. You gonna finish that?”

“No.”

I snagged the dish, pulled it closer and shoved an untouched slider into his mouth. “Damn, that woman can cook,” he said.

“What do you make of her?” Logan nodded toward the brunette waitress.

“Hot. Yours?”

“Nah. Miri’s new hire. See the way she watches the door?”

I nodded. “She got outstanding warrants? Or an abusive ex?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’d find out. Something’s got her jumpy.”

“I will. Don’t doubt it. I’ll be damned if someone else steals from Miri on my watch.”

CHAPTER TWO

JESSIE REFILLED THE last saltshaker and wiped down the table, then straightened and stretched the kinks from her spine. Her body ached from the unaccustomed exercise—but in a good way. She blinked her tired, gritty eyes. It was time to go home and remove these irritating contacts.

She stopped beside the final open window and let the peace of the empty dining room settle over her. Water lapped outside the building, and a gentle breeze drifted in. She loved the concept of a restaurant constructed on a pier so low to the water that the fish swam close enough for the customers to drop food to them and watch them gobble it up.

The music went silent, and the lights illuminating the water went dark, jarring Jessie into action. She closed and latched the window. If her brother found out she was outside the compound after dark, he’d never stop lecturing. But she should be safe. No one except her family knew she was in Key West, and it was only a half mile’s walk to where she’d parked her rental car at the opposite end of the well-lit boardwalk. She’d thought it better to keep the vehicle as far away from the restaurant as possible just in case Brandon’s paranoia wasn’t all in his head.

Miri came out of the kitchen, followed by the good-looking guy who’d been seated at the oyster bar most of the evening. Something about the way he’d scrutinized Jessie’s every move tonight had made her nervous. That uneasiness intensified now with him only two yards away. He wasn’t part of the kitchen staff, so who was he?

“You did a great job tonight, Jessie.”

“Thanks, Miri.”

Miri indicated her companion with a flip of her fingers. “Jessie, my nephew, Logan Nash.”

The one who drove the restaurateur nuts with his interference? He looked only a few years older than Jessie. His hair was as black as the cormorant’s wings and his eyes, as blue as the noon sky, stared at her with suspicion.

Jessie wrung the wet rag in her hands and nodded but said nothing and didn’t offer her hand. He nodded in return.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Miri asked.

A wad of bills weighted Jessie’s pocket. Tonight’s tips would be enough to get by for a while. But for how long? Not six more weeks, for sure.

“I ask because someone is coming in for an interview in the morning,” Miri added when Jessie hesitated. “If she works out, I’ll have her shadow you tomorrow night.”

Jessie dug her nails deeper into the cotton. She’d promised to train her replacements. And Miri needed a buffer between her and the human cormorant. Should she risk it? Going back to solitary confinement after an evening of interacting with people sounded like torture. But no one should recognize her here. Not with her disguise.

She took a deep breath and answered, “I’ll be here,” before she could change her mind.

“Great, hon. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Logan tugged the bank bag from Miri’s hands. “I’ll give Jessie a ride home on my way to drop off tonight’s deposit.”

Objections blossomed in Jessie’s head. Miri’s startled expression, which quickly transformed to one of worry, confirmed Jessie’s reservations. “Thanks, but I, um...have my car.”

“Miri’s is the only one in the lot.”

“I parked nearby.”

“I’ll walk you to it.”

His forceful tone made her hackles rise. It was one thing for her father or brother to boss her around—or, as they said, “strongly encourage”—but she wasn’t taking orders from a stranger. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ll be fine.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“I have pepper spray.”

His nostrils flared in obvious irritation and his mouth opened, but Miri laid a hand on his arm. “Leave her be, Logan. After her busy night, Jessie probably needs to clear her head. I always do. Thanks for taking the deposit. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She crossed to the front door and held it open in a blatant invitation for Logan to leave.

Blue eyes drilled Jessie’s again. “You need to hit the clinic for a drug test before you come in tomorrow. All of our employees are tested.”

Jessie glanced at Miri, who shook her head. “I’ll manage my employees, Logan. Now go.”

His lips thinned. He looked ready to argue, but then said, “Good night.”

He left and the wind leaked from Jessie’s lungs. Only then did she notice her racing heart and damp palms. “So that’s him.”

Miri nodded. “I commend you on not getting into a car with a strange man, especially one who’s being a bossy britches, but you can trust Logan. He’s a good one. Just a little overprotective.”

“About that drug test...I’m trying to avoid a paper trail right now.”

“I suspected as much. Forget it. After the way you hustled tonight, I know you’re not using anything.”

“If you have any doubts about me working here—”

“I don’t.”

“Thanks.”

“Want me to give you a ride to your car?”

Jessie shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m just down the boardwalk.”

“I’d feel better if I watched you till you’re out of sight.” After locking the front door she led Jessie out the rear to the patio. She pulled out her phone and punched buttons. Seconds later Jessie’s phone vibrated against her hip. “Now you have my number. Save it and call if you need me. For anything, hon, and at any time. Day or night. Be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then Miri sank into a chair. She reminded Jessie so much of her mother sitting on the patio and watching as Jessie walked to the end of their long driveway to wait for the school bus that it made her eyes sting.

“Good night, Miri. And thanks for...understanding.”

“There’s nothing wrong with needing a second chance.”

Jessie didn’t correct her. She backed away and waved then turned and strode off before she gave in to the overwhelming urge to hug the restaurant owner, confess all and ask her advice. But it was better if Miri didn’t know. Knowing could add her to the list of people adversely affected by being connected to Jessamine.

For the first time since being forced from her job, she felt a sense of purpose. She couldn’t protect her mother from the chaos at home, but she could protect Miri from her mess here and from her overbearing nephew.

It wasn’t until Jessie slowed to turn off Highway 1 that she realized she’d said no to Logan Nash. Funny how easy it had been to say the word to him. But he’d definitely gotten on her bad side, and like a student who seemed destined to cause trouble, he needed watching.

* * *

FOR THE FIRST time since arriving in Florida, Jessie awoke refreshed and eager to start her day. Attributing her good night’s sleep to the hustle at work, she started a pot of the exotic coffee provided with her rental, showered and dressed while it brewed, then grabbed her mug, her caddy of art supplies and her easel and headed out onto the deck.

Her brother had called twice while she was in the shower, and she debated calling him back. But for once she didn’t want to talk to him. Calling meant she might have to lie about where she’d been last night or what she’d done. Instead, she texted him to let him know she was okay and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

A flash of movement caught her eye. A trio of Key deer, none any bigger than her at-home neighbor’s rescued greyhounds, strolled through the backyard a dozen feet below. The four-legged family had become part of her morning routine.

Except for the waterfront space, the rental property was completely fenced in, but the deer somehow found their way in and back out again on a regular basis. Back home in South Carolina, the deer invading her daddy’s orchard were considered a nuisance and were dealt with accordingly, but here Key deer were a protected species. And they were welcome company. She would miss them once she returned home.

On her first day on the island she’d learned that the animals liked people food when she’d left her lunch on the table beneath the palms and gone inside for two minutes. She’d returned to find them eating her sandwich. Captivated, she’d fed them her apple, then later when she’d slipped into the library to research them, she’d discovered she’d broken the law. Feeding the deer was illegal, for their own safety. She hadn’t fed them since, but they always showed up looking hopeful. It made her wish she’d replaced her camera. It, along with her laptop, had been stolen in the first break-in, and searching for new electronics hadn’t seemed important with everything else going on. But she’d sketched her visitors multiple times.

“Sorry, guys. No food again today.”

Their big brown begging eyes filled her with a load of guilt that she tried to ignore, then the buck led his little group off into the dense green foliage bordering the fence. Juggling her load, Jessie carefully descended the stairs and dug her toes into the still cool crushed shells, then glanced toward the private pier and stopped in her tracks. The cormorants were back doing their creepy statue imitations. She couldn’t bring herself to join them. Instead she set up her chair and easel in the shade beneath the coconut tree and picked up her binoculars.