14- Feel the power of healing

There had been times in her life—even after enduring Carlo’s possessiveness—
when Hazel had deeply regretted the lack of a man who’d be there when she
woke up and when she went to bed at night, a man who cared more about
spending time with her than about his career. Now it seemed she had one.
It wasn’t nearly as much fun as she’d anticipated.
Mr. Lee O’Donnell was everywhere she turned, his expression remote, his
gaze cool. The nonstop surveillance wasn’t exactly what she’d dreamed of. In
fact, it was all too reminiscent of Carlo. The fact that Mr. Lee was so blatant
about it gratedon her nerves. She hated that everyone in town knew he wasthere
to keep an eyeon her for some reason that neither of them had revealed.
Other than her one conversation with Tony, Hazel had refused to discuss
Mr. Lee’s presence with her friends or her family. Only Lauren knew part of it—
thatshe had to give a deposition when she got back to New York and that she
wasn’t looking forward to it. Cassie, Karen and Emma were studying her almost
as intently as Mr. Lee was, but their motive was concern, his was distrust.
He’d been at it for nearly two weeks now, though he’d stayed true to his
word and remained mostly in the background ever since that chance meeting at
Henderson’s Toy Store over a week earlier. For some perverse reason Hazel found
that even more annoying and nerve-racking than having to deal with him. She
was constantly on edge, continually reminded of the timesthey’d kissed and just
how much she wanted him to kiss her again. For a few minutesin his arms she’d
been able to forget why he was here. In fact, she’d forgotten almost everything,
including her name.
His unexpected admission that he, too, had been affected by those kisses,
had thrown her. Not that it made any real difference. He might be attracted to
her, but he wasn’t happy about it. In fact, Mr. Lee didn’t strike her as the kind
of man who would violate his own ethical standards on a regular basis. Kissing
asuspect, no matter how unjustly accused, was bound to be a breach of those
ethics. No wonder he was keeping his distance.
Right now, for example, he was sitting in the booth next to hers at the diner,
sipping coffee and pretending to read the morning paper. She knew it was only pretense, because his gaze rarely shifted away from her long enough for more
than a glimpse of the headlines. She sighed heavily.
“You might as well come over here and join me,” she said finally. Maybe
they could discussthislike two reasonable people and find a way to peacefully
coexist, since it was evident that nothing was going to make him go away.
He stared at her, clearly surprised by the invitation. “You sure about that?”
“Lately I don’t seem to be sure about much of anything, but you’re getting
on my nerves over there, so, what the heck?”
A grin came and went so quickly she thought she’d imagined it. It was
probably a good thing he didn’t smile too often. She had a hunch the effect could
be devastating, even more devastating than the rare hint of vulnerability she’d
seen on his face as he and Caitlyn had played with the toy trains. Wondering
what that was about had kept her awake for several nights, despite repeated
lectures to herself that Mr. Lee’s past was none of her concern.
Carrying the paper and his cup of coffee, Mr. Lee slid into the booth
oppositeher. Hazel tried to pretend he was someone who’d come into her
restaurant for a good meal, someone deserving of friendly conversation. She’d
certainly been forced to be polite to a lot of arrogant, exasperating people over
the years. Whatwas one more?
“Still enjoying your visit to Winding River?” she asked politely, asif he
were just another tourist instead of a man with an agenda.
“It’s been interesting,” he said.
“Finding much to do?”
He regarded her with amusement. “You know the answer to that, since I’ve
pretty much been doing whatever you’re doing. Are you bored?”
“I’m never bored when I’m home, especially with so many of my friends
around.”
“If you’re so fond of this place, why did you leave?”
“I wanted to be a chef, a really good one. Tony ran out of recipes.” It was a
simplistic answer, but true enough.
“So you left here and went to New York?”
“Not right away. I trained all over at a series of culinary institutes here and in
Europe,” she said.
“Must have been expensive.”
She had a hunch his interest in the cost had less to do with curiosity than
with his desire to build a case that she’d needed Café Tuscany money to pay off
old debts. She leaned forward and met his gaze evenly.
“I was very good. I received several scholarships,” she told him.
“Isthat how you met Rinaldi, at one of those cooking schools?”
“Yes,” she said. “But before we go too far along that particular path, let’s
agree here and now to save all those nasty deposition questions for New York.”
“It might not leave us much to talk about,” he said, that grin sneaking back.
“Consider it a challenge. You look like the kind of man who thrives on
challenges.”
“I do,” he agreed. “Okay then, you pick a nice, neutral topic. What shall we
talk about?”
“Let’stalk about you,” she suggested. “Why did you decide to become a
lawyer?”
“To protect the little guy from swindlers and crooks,” he said readily.
Hazel laughed. “Didn’t take long to get back to your low opinion of me, did
it?”
“That’s your interpretation,” he said. “Guilty conscience?”
“Not me.” She regarded him intently. “Tell me something. Why did you take
this case? Usually your firm is involved in much more lucrative, high-profile
cases. You don’t actually work for the little guys. You work for corporate
America. Yet here you are up to your neck in a case that involves peanuts. Even
if you recover every missing dollar that Bobby allegedly stole, your cut won’t
amount to much by your firm’s standards. And just think of all the billable hours
you’re missing while you hang around out here keeping me under surveillance.”
He shrugged. “I was due for a vacation, anyway.”
“But you wouldn’t have chosen to take it here, would you?”
“No,” he admitted. “Probably not.”
“So why did you take a case that was going to cost so much for such little
reward?”
“It was personal,” he said, his expression turning grim.
“Oh? In what way?”
“My mother was among those Rinaldi swindled out of their money.” There
was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I imagine you can see why I’d want him
caught.”
Hazel was taken aback by the admission. She hadn’t thought about Mr. Lee
having a mother—or any other family, for that matter—let alone a mother who’d
backed Café Tuscany. “How much did she give Bobby?”
“I doubt she viewed it as a gift. She invested a hundred thousand.”
She stared at him, openmouthed with shock. “What? Where did she get that
kind of cash? Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I got the impression the other day
that your family didn’t have a lot of money. Or were you just trying to play on
my sympathy at the toy store?