Quarrel gave her an unfathomable look as he efficiently stacked dishes. “What were you looking for in a place like the El Toro?”
“I was looking for my father.” Verity frowned and tapped the resumé with a fingertip. “You didn’t make these places up in a spurt of creative writing, after all, did you? You really have worked in all these sleazy dives.”
Quarrel ignored the question and asked one of his own. “Did you find your father?”
Verity shook her head. “No. But that’s no big deal. He’ll show up sooner or later. He always does.” She came away from the wall and started toward the office. “Excuse me for a few minutes.”
Jonas dropped a pan back into the sink. “Hey, wait a minute. What are you going to do?”
“Make a few phone calls,” she explained sweetly. She smiled at him.
Jonas stared at her for a long moment. He seemed momentarily disconcerted by her smile. Then he pulled himself together and asked slowly, “You’re going to call some of those bars?”
“I always check references. What’s the matter, Mr. Quarrel? Did you think I’d hesitate to call places like Tahiti and Manila and Mexico?”
He wiped his hands on a towel, studying her intently. “Well, yeah. Most people are a little intimidated by that kind of long-distance dialing.”
“I’ve got news for you. You’re not the only one who’s had the advantages of extensive world travel. I spent a year and a half in Tahiti, three months in Manila, a year in Mexico, and another year in Hawaii. My memory is a little vague because it’s been a few years, but I think I’ve even been in a few more of these dives than just El Toro Rojo. The Harbor Lights Tavern has a familiar ring. I hate to admit it, but so does the Get Leid.”
Quarrel looked genuinely startled. “You’re kidding. You know some of those places?”
“My father gave me a very well-rounded education.” Verity walked into her office, vaguely pleased at having finally been able to turn the tables on Jonas Quarrel.
“It’ll cost a fortune to call those taverns,” Jonas pointed out.
“I’ll take it out of your first week’s pay.” Verity smiled slowly as she sat down at her desk and reached for the phone. This was going to prove interesting.
An hour later she had her answers and Jonas had the dishes done. They faced each other in the small kitchen.
“All right,” Verity said calmly. “You’ve got the job. Everyone spoke very highly of you. They said you could be relied upon to open a bar on time, you aren’t into drugs, you don’t have the bad habit of helping yourself to the contents of the cash register, and you don’t drink on the job. High praise, indeed, considering the sources. Oh, and Big Al at the Sea Siren said to give you his best and swears he’ll send along the money he owes you now that he has a current address.”
Something in Jones’s eyes seemed to relax. It was replaced with a curious expression that was part anticipation and part satisfaction. “Thanks, Verity,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
“Since you’ve finished the dishes, you can start chopping onions for the vegetable tart I’m going to make. I’ll do the pastry.”
“I’ll get right on it, boss lady.” Jonas reached for a long-bladed knife, hefting it with an easy familiarity. “There’s just one more small problem.”
Verity paused warily in the act of taking a ball of chilled pastry out of the refrigerator. “What’s that?”
“I’ll need a place to stay.” Jonas smiled at her. “Any ideas? Since I’m going to be working for minimum wage, I won’t be able to afford anyplace fancy. I checked out of the Lake Motel this morning. I was running low on cash.”
Verity sighed in resignation. “You can have the cabin my father uses when he deigns to visit. It’s in back of the restaurant.”
“What about your father?”
“Don’t worry. I haven’t heard from him since I got the message inviting me to meet him down in Puerto Vallerta. He’d already left town by the time I got there and I haven’t heard from him since. I don’t think he’ll be disturbing us anytime soon. If he does, you can flip a coin for the bed. Both of you have probably slept on more than one floor in your life.”
“You’re a generous woman, Verity Ames.”
“It’s not that. I think the real problem is that I’m just a little soft in the head when it comes to professional drifters who spend their lives running from their talent.”
Jones’s head came up and his eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Verity looked at him as she rolled out the pastry. “I called Vincent College after I checked with a few of your previous employers. You really did teach Renaissance history there. What’s more, you were damn good at it. Lots of impressive publications and one book on ancient armory to your credit. And then you gave up teaching for no apparent reason. Have you been drifting around the world ever since?”
“What does all this have to do with your father?” Jonas asked coolly.
“He’s a professional drifter, too. Does the name Emerson Ames mean anything to you?” Verity realized she was wielding the rolling pin with too much force. Deliberately she made herself relax.
Jonas flicked off the end of an onion with a negligent slash of the knife. “Yeah, it does, as a matter of fact. Are we talking about the same Emerson Ames who wrote Juxtaposition a few years back?”
“One and the same.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. I seem to remember that book caused a certain, small sensation when it was published. Anybody who had any academic pretensions at Vincent College had it on his coffee table. What ever happened to him? Has he written anything since Juxtaposition?”
“Unfortunately,” Verity said tightly, “Dad decided Juxtaposition wasn’t his kind of book. He vowed not to waste his time doing another one like it and went back to writing what he claims he likes writing best.”
Jonas glanced at her. “What’s that?”
Verity wrinkled her nose. “Paperback westerns. Can you believe it? The man who was once heralded by The New York Times as the author of the year. A writer who had ‘boldly and decisively examined and illuminated contemporary uncertainties and paradoxes,’ they said. And this bold genius ups and decides he would rather write westerns.”
Jonas stared at her for a moment longer and then began to laugh. It was a deep, masculine roar that filled the kitchen. His golden eyes gleamed with it. “I think,” Jonas finally said through his laughter, “that I would like your father.” He lopped off the end of another onion. “I hope I get a chance to meet him while I’m here.”
“Something tells me the two of you have a lot in common,” Verity grumbled.
Jonas laughed again and flipped the knife into the air. Verity sucked in her breath as the blade spun end over end. Visions of blood and sliced fingers made her clutch at the counter top. But an instant later Jonas neatly caught the knife by its handle and went back to slicing onions. Verity repressed a shudder.
“I have a hunch that what your father and I have in common is a mutual decision to live in the real world instead of pretending we actually enjoy the academic and literary establishments.”
“It looks to me as if you both got lazy and took the easy way out,” Verity retorted in an upbraiding tone.
All traces of humor vanished from Jonas’s face. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously edged, just like the knife in his hand. “Lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Not all talent is a blessing. Sometimes a thing like talent can kill you. Or it can drive you crazy. Maybe in your father’s case, it simply bored him to death. You’ve got no right to sit in judgment.”
Verity shivered. She didn’t doubt that Jonas knew what he was talking about. Instinctively she sought refuge in a change of subject. “This is a stupid argument. You’d better get busy on those onions,” she said briskly. “When you’re finished with those, you can start
chopping the carrots. I want them done julienne style. Do you know what that is?”
“Sure, boss lady. Whatever you say. I’ve got a question, though.”
Verity eyed him warily. “What’s that?”
“I’ve never worked in a gourmet vegetarian kitchen.” He smiled a little too innocently. “What do you use the extra virgin olive oil for?”
“Salad dressings, among other things,” she explained tartly. “And please spare me your sophomoric jokes. Extra virgin refers to the fact that the oil is of very high quality from the first pressing of the olives.”
“Oh. I thought maybe it meant oil that had been aging on the shelf for a long time. Like some poor spinster who has never had a lover.”
Verity could not halt the fierce rush of blood into her cheeks. He was just making a crude joke. He could not possibly be aware of her sexual status.
“That’s a typically chauvinistic remark. I hate to break this to your male ego, but there are worse things in life than never having had a lover,” she declared rashly.
Jonas’s mouth curved faintly at the corner. “Such as?”
“Such as discovering you just hired someone who doesn’t know the first thing about something as basic to a good kitchen as olive oil!”
“Don’t worry, boss. I’m a fast learner.”
GIFT OF GOLD will be available in eBook in July 2012
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The author of over 50 New York Times bestsellers, JAYNE ANN KRENTZ writes romantic-suspense, often with a psychic and paranormal twist, in three different worlds: Contemporary (as Jayne Ann Krentz), historical (as Amanda Quick) and futuristic (as Jayne Castle). There are over 35 million copies of her books in print.
Building on the success of her Arcane Society Series, Jayne is kicking off three new paranormal series in 2012.
The Dark Legacy books are set in present day Washington state and delve into the paranormal crystal mining world and the Coppersmith Family. The first book, COPPER BEACH is available now.
The Ladies of Lantern Street novels are set in Victorian England and follow the adventures of the Flint and Marsh Agency employees. These ladies are not your average paid companions. The first book, CRYSTAL GARDENS is available now.
The Rainshadow novels started, unofficially, with the release of CANYONS OF NIGHT. These stories are set on a small island on the planet Harmony in the not so distant future. The second novel in this series, THE LOST NIGHT, will be available in September 2012.
When she's not writing, Jayne can be found on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/JayneAnnKrentz
You can also learn more about Jayne at her website, http://www.JayneAnnKrentz.com
MORE BOOKS BY JAYNE ANN KRENTZ
eBook Only
Midnight Jewels
Contemporary (written as Jayne Ann Krentz)
Copper Beach
In Too Deep
Fired Up
Running Hot
Sizzle and Burn
Historical (written as Amanda Quick)
Crystal Gardens
Quicksilver
Burning Lamp
The Perfect Poison
The Third Circle
Futuristic (written as Jayne Castle)
The Lost Night (September 2012)
Canyons of Night
Midnight Crystal
Obsidian Prey
Dark Light
Jayne Ann Krentz, LC03 Shield's Lady
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