She glanced around at her chewed-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life furniture and shook her head. She opened the kitchen window instead. It looked out over the courtyard. ‘Hey, Monty!’
He came charging up. Barking, barking, barking.
‘If you keep up with that kind of nonsense,’ she chided, ‘how will you ever hear what I have to say?’
He quietened for a moment. The radio blared. She dragged in a breath. For good or ill, she had a way with dogs. ‘What we need to work out is the kind of home that would be best for you. Do you have any thoughts on the subject? I’m thinking no small children, as you’ll only knock them down, and—’
He started barking his head off again. She continued to slice the onions, cabbage and red peppers for this evening’s stir-fry.
‘What I was thinking was a lovely big property where you could run about to your heart’s content, and...’
He didn’t stop barking. He no longer looked at her, just barked and barked. Her chopping slowed. She glanced at him again. In fact, he seemed to be barking at a point behind her and—
Her nape prickled. In the reflection of the window, something moved.
Whirling around, she held the knife out in front of her, every muscle tensed and readied.
A broad male figure loomed in the kitchen doorway. Adrenaline flooded her. Her heart clawed up into her throat. She gripped the knife harder.
The figure raised his hands very slowly in a gesture of non-aggression and then he backed all the way down the hallway and out of her house until he stood on the other side of her screen door. Only then did her pounding brain recognise who it was that stood on the other side. Rico D’Angelo. Her new boss.
Her heart didn’t stop hammering. Her hands didn’t unclench.
Rico raised a hand and knocked. She didn’t hear it. Undoing her fist enough to reach out, she turned off the radio. ‘Quiet, Monty!’
Amazingly, the animal obeyed her.
‘Neen, I’m sorry I frightened you.’
She suddenly realised she was still holding the knife. With burning eyes she threw it into the sink. She gripped her hands together at her waist and tried to stop their shaking, tried to swallow the lump lodged in her throat. The lump dislodged itself to settle in her chest.
‘Mr D’Angelo.’ The shaking wouldn’t stop. ‘I...uh...come in.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. I just wanted to drop this off.’ He held up a sheaf of papers.
Monty promptly started barking again and her head throbbed in time with each booming sound. God, how to explain? She pressed her shaking fingers to her temples.
‘How about a walk? I take it that’s Monty, there? It sounds as if he could do with one.’
Gradually, little by little, her heart rate started to slow. ‘I’m sure you’re busy.’
‘I dropped by so we could discuss a few things and to get your signature on the contract.’
The normality of their conversation after her over-the-top reaction finally returned her pulse to normal.
‘I know I should’ve rung first, but I had an appointment in the area so I thought I’d drop by on the off-chance you’d be home.’
She needed to get out of the house. She needed to find a sense of equilibrium again. ‘If you’re sure you have the time?’
‘I have the time.’
‘I’ll just get Monty’s leash.’
She clipped the lead to Monty’s collar, led him through the house and locked her front door. She averted her gaze from the carport opposite and her car, with its four slashed tyres. She hoped her enigmatic employer hadn’t noticed them. She bit back an oath, her hand tightening on Monty’s lead. Mr D’Angelo must think he’d employed an utter fruitcake!
‘I’m pleased you accepted the position of café manager, Neen. I have great hopes for the café and I know you’re the perfect person to head this up.’
His smile was too kind, too compassionate...too knowing. His tone too well modulated. She bit back a sigh. ‘You saw the tyres, didn’t you?’