Chapter Thirty

Bram listened to Izabella tell Devon all about her dad. How they liked Uncle Ronnie’s for the food, and because they had a soup table where they would feed anyone who came in asking. Ronnie, the last owner, had been a good friend of his too. They both went through kemo together, Ronnie was still around, but her dad hadn’t made it. She got a little teary-eyed talking about him, but it seemed to make her happy at the same time. She clearly loved and respected the man, and Bram felt sorry that someone like him would have to die, when someone like his own father, or even himself, lived in luxury for centuries.

As they walked through the door, a young man waived, yelling hello into the nearly empty dinner. When he actually looked up at them, a smile broke over his face. “Hey! It’s our little Izzy! Go, go take your seat. But I will be there in a minute to squish you. I’ll have to tell Papa that you’re here!”

“You let him sleep if he’s resting, you hear me, Johnnie? I don’t need auntie Alice making a fuss that he got too excited.” She called over the counter, and whoever this Johnnie was, reached over squishing her face. Bram tried to keep the annoyance from his face. He clearly didn’t like other men touching her, but he didn’t want to make it too obvious right away. She clearly counted this person as a friend. “Come over when you can, I want to introduce you to some new people.”

Bram saw the jealousy in Johnnie’s eyes right away. He slowly licked his lips, remembering the taste of her there. Bitterly, he also had to admit that he’d trapped her with that too. She’d come to save him from that annoying gaggle of women, and he’d used it against her. Like everyone said, he was a real ass. He smiled down at Devon, pressing his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling very out of his element.

“Sorry about that.” She laughed, rubbing her red cheek where Johnnie had pinched her. “He’s one of my best friends. We grew up together, so…” her words trailed off as she shrugged, leading them to a little booth in the center of the room. Bram scootched into one side as she slid into the other. Even as Devon sat beside her, his annoyance got the better of him. Even his son was enthralled with the woman. She had grabbed some of the old and dated menus and handed one to Bram and the other to Devon.

“There’s no pictures.” Devon complained.

“They have burgers, chicken fingers, mac and cheese, or hot dogs. My favorite were always the chicken fingers. They’re better than any other place I’ve been to.” Bram looked at her skeptically. “For you, Mr. Meat man, I would suggest the burger,” she leaned over the table and pointed at the menu. His finger went out without him thinking and caught a strand of her hair. When their eyes met, he gave her a smirk.

“Mr. Meat man?” His cocked a brow at her, and she giggled.

“You ate nearly all the sausage and bacon I made this morning. So, I assumed you like meat.”

“Will they actually make my burger rare?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, I think so. Dad always preferred his medium rare, and Ronnie always made it the way he liked. Probably why we always came here. He used to say,” her voice went into a deep tenor that neither he nor Devon could help laughing at, “the bloodier, the better.”

“A man after my own heart. I think I would have liked your dad.” He put the menu down, planning on ordering the burger. “What are you going to get?”

“I like the grilled chicken. I don’t like fries though, so I usually like to sub them for mashed potatoes. They’re full of garlic and butter, and I love it! Oh, and since you’ve been paying for everything else, I’ll pick up the tab here.”

That caught him off guard. “You… realize that’s not necessary.”

“But it’s polite, and it would make me feel better about the phone and computer. Not to mention the fun we had yesterday. A purse, a wallet, shoes… I mean, the list is never ending. You even bought me a bathing suit.” She laughed, still looking at the menu. “I always hope they’ll add something different, but they never do.” She pursed her lips, and Bram’s imagination ran away with him. That damn red bikini taking control of his thoughts.

Johnnie came up to the table, wiping his hands on his apron. Izabella got up, hugging him tight. He wasn’t a handsome man, a little shorter than her, but he had a solid build to him. He was slimmer than Bram, but just had less muscle. He was clearly younger, probably the same age or within a year or two of her. “It’s good to see you. Have you been going to church? I haven’t seen you recently.”

“I’m hoping to start coming again. With the time I stayed at the orphanages, I did little services for them, or went to another, closer church.” Bram’s eyes rested on his chest where her hand connected with him. He really was going mad. “Oh, and I’d like to introduce you to my new ward, Devon. I’m going to be his nanny now, right kiddo?”

“Yeah.” Devon put his hand out, and Johnnie shook it nicely. “She’s going to live with me and daddy. We’re going to be the bestest friends.”

There was no denying the slow turn of Johnnie’s head as he looked over at Bram. They both had to smile at each other, and Izabella seemed completely unaware of the awkwardness between them. “And this is Bram. He’s my new employer. But I’m hoping we’re able to become friends too.”

Bram stood, offering his hand. “I certainly hope so. It’s nice to meet you Johnnie, Izabella tells us that you are childhood friends?”

Johnnie’s hand wrapped around her arm and he pulled her away, “What did that kid mean? You can’t live with some strange guy? Do you know what people will say? And look at him… do you even know if he can pay you, whatever amount you agreed on? What if he wants more?”

“Johnnie, stop.” She tried to pry her arm free of him, and it took every ounce of control Bram had not to knock the guy on his ass. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep his hands to himself. “I’m an adult. I can make my own choices, and if I was worried about this at all, I wouldn’t be doing it. Bram has been nothing but a gentleman, and even bought me my first phone so that we could stay in touch.”

“What would your father say?” Johnnie stared down at her, looked Bram up and down again, and turned back, looking angrier. “I already told you, you can come stay in my spare room. And at least I won’t—”

“Won’t what? He hasn’t done anything. I don’t want to live in your spare room or work here with you. I don’t share your dreams and aspirations, but you don’t care about mine at all, do you?”

“How does living with a stranger and his kid help you achieve any of your dreams?”

Oh… that was a good question. Bram was frowning at the entire charade was happening, but he wanted to know the answer to this question too. Especially as Izabella’s eyes went large again, staring at him. Her eyes evaded him, blushing, and finally pushed Johnnie away. "And his son, Devon Stoker. The little boy he saved.” Bram eased up his posture, and finally sat back down as Izabella explained how they met after she learned that he was in need of a nanny. She skipped the part about what happened at the apartment, but told him about the day she had with Devon instead. Playing it off like Bram had just not been feeling well. She did slide in that he came to the hotel, offered her the spare room and took Devon into his own, and he was pretty proud when she talked about the way he punch out some creepy guy that had been bothering her. “I mean, I’m proud that I’m figuring things out without anyone’s help right now. I know the whole congregation is worried about me, but I can’t live my life just taking charity from them. I have an opportunity to help those I wanted to. Even if it’s just one.” She smiled at Devon and mussed his hair. “I do promise, Bram’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

He offered them both a smile but knew that last statement was a lie if ever there was one. He wondered if she even realized it. “I’m sorry for my attitude, Mr. Stoker. I was just worried about Izzy. I hope you know, you know you’ve been an inspiration to her over the last year.” He put his hand out waiting for the handshake he had been snubbed earlier.

When Bram’s eyes went to Izabella, he knew they were hard and cold. She turned away immediately, her cheeks turning red. Devon was staring too. He didn’t stand up again, but he put his hand out. “You may call me Bram. She seems to be fitting right in. Devon adores her. Don’t you, buddy?”

He nodded eagerly. “Can I get the chicken fingers?”

Looking at his watch, Bram sighed. “Oh.” He heard her whisper under her breath, “I’m so sorry. Everyone is hungry. Can we make a plan to talk later? I’ll text you my number.” When she held up her phone a feeling of satisfaction grew. But she knew who he was before she went to meet him, that bothered him immensely, though he knew it shouldn’t. A lot of people knew him.



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