7. Chapter Six Savannah
Chapter Six: Savannah
Ten Minutes Earlier…
Staring out the windshield of my car, parked behind Charlie’s Place, I release a sigh, unable to stop thinking about Laurent and everything that happened last night. He might be the most interesting man I’ve ever met, but I refuse to get more tangled up in his shady affairs than I already am.
“The man is trouble,” I mumble under my breath. It doesn’t matter how attractive he is, or how his very green eyes remind me of the emerald grass back home in Ohio. I don’t care how chiseled his jawline is or how he radiates charm and confidence.
Of course, he’s confident, I mentally scoff. He’s a con man.
Forgetting him is the best thing I can do. The only thing.
And what better way to put him out of my mind than to bury myself in work?
It’s why I’m at the restaurant early. I need to clean up the mess from last night and find someone to repair the front door.
Ryland sent Gray back to board it up, but that’s only a temporary fix.
I’ll be sending that lovely bill to Harper.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting in my car daydreaming, but the sooner I get back to my old life and routine, the better. It’s safe. Familiar. Totally predictable.
And boring as hell.
I try not to dwell on that sad fact. Not today, not any day. Not worth it. I’ll take boring over getting shot at or stabbed any day of the week.
Grabbing my purse, I shove the car door open and get out.
The SoCal sun shines high above me, warm and bright.
It’s already a beautiful day out. So I’m not sure why a shiver runs down my spine.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I pause mid-step in the middle of the parking lot.
It feels like someone just walked over my grave.
Shaking the eerie feeling off, I head for the rear door, reaching into my purse to retrieve the ring of keys for the restaurant.
After finding the correct one, I unlock the back door and step inside.
Normally, the back room is tidy and neatly-organized—it’s where I keep boxes of supplies—but I immediately notice a few have tipped over.
The smell of vinegar makes my nose tingle and I spot a broken bottle of ketchup.
I assume it must’ve happened during our mad dash through here with a gunman chasing after us last night.
Guess my front door wasn’t the only casualty.
Well, I suppose it could be worse.
Dropping my purse on top of a nearby cardboard box, I move toward the supply closet then stop. Crap. I ran out of floor cleaner earlier in the week and had to buy more. Currently, it’s sitting in my trunk.
With another long sigh, I twist my hair up into a knot on top of my head, find my car key and accept it’s just going to be one of those days.
The kind no amount of coffee can fix and all you can do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head.
Unfortunately, I can’t do that. I have a business to run. After I clean it up.
Turning on my heel, I push out the back door. Shading my eyes from the bright sunshine, I take only a few steps before the most ominous sound I’ve ever heard fills my ears. A deep boom rumbles behind me, instantly followed by an intense wave of heat.
I have no idea what’s happening, but one minute I’m walking, and the next, I’m being lifted off my feet and thrown forward through the air.
My body hits the pavement hard, and I yelp out a pained shout.
For a stunned moment, I lie on my back, staring up at the blue sky, then curl into a ball and cover my head with my arms as debris falls down around me.
Pushing up into a sitting position, I cough and squint through a haze of black smoke.
Oh, my God.
Flames consume the building. My restaurant is on fire!
Scrambling to my feet, I race back inside the back room, covering my nose with my arm.
The flames haven’t reached here yet, so I yank the fire extinguisher off the wall, preparing to find the source of the fire and try to put it out.
I barely make it two steps into the smoky hallway when a pair of strong arms pull me back.
“Are you crazy?” a deep voice asks, yanking me up against a hard chest. I instantly recognize Laurent’s voice, and he’s hauling me away when I need to stop this fire.
“Put me down!” I yell, trying to twist free.
“You can’t put out an inferno with that!”
He’s right. And now that I’m not looking at it through a panicked haze, the thick smoke tells me the fire is much bigger than I first realized.
Whatever happened, it’s more than just an oil fire in the kitchen or an electrical problem.
I drop the extinguisher as Laurent sweeps me up into his arms and rushes back down the hall, through the supply room and out the rear door.
Fresh air hits me, and I suck in a few deep breaths as Laurent moves us away from the burning building.
Once we’re a safe distance away, he carefully sets me down, and I turn around to face the full scene.
Shock pummels through me at the sight. The entire place is ablaze.
Years of hard work is burning down right before my eyes.
“No,” I gasp, my legs turning to jelly. Devastated doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling. My restaurant—a place I put my heart and soul into—is burning down.
Laurent grabs my arms, holding me up when I’m on the verge of crumpling to the ground. Hot tears burn my eyes as the sound of sirens signal the approaching firetrucks.
“Don’t look, chérie.” He turns me around, pulling me into his arms. Holding me. A sob breaks free from my throat as I sag against him.
“I’ve just lost everything,” I whisper raggedly.
“No. You’re alive.” His hand moves up and down my back, attempting to reassure me. Console me. “It could’ve been so much worse.”
I suppose he has a point, but it’s hard to focus on that right now.
All I keep thinking about is all the work it took to make my dream a reality.
Encountering and navigating endless trials and tribulations, the long nights and longer days I spent to get Charlie’s Place up and running.
It’s my only source of income. Without it, I have nothing.
My knees buckle and Laurent’s hold tightens. If he wasn’t holding me up, I’d be on the ground, sobbing my eyes out.
“Please, don’t cry, chérie. I’ve got you. Everything will be okay.”
I’d like to believe that, but I’m not very optimistic. Harper is the one who sees rainbows and butterflies. I see gray clouds and caterpillars. And right now, I’m not even sure I can see those.
Because I’ve lost everything. It’s all gone.
Two hours later, I’m sitting on the bench across the street from the burned-out hole that used to be Charlie’s Place.
I’ve thanked the firemen who managed to put the flames out.
I’ve talked to the police and responded to concerned texts from employees who already saw live coverage on the local news.
A numbness has settled over me, but Laurent is right.
It could’ve been so much worse. I could be dead right now.
I came far too close to being consumed by the flames. If I had been in my office…
A shudder tears through me. They said that’s where they believe the fire originated.
The word arson briefly came into play, but nothing is definite until they can conduct a full investigation.
One thing seems terrifyingly clear, though—there was an explosion.
Until I know otherwise, I’m going to assume it was a freak accident with a gas line beneath the restaurant.
Just my rotten luck at play. And not at all someone intentionally trying to blow up my business, and potentially me in the process.
Thank God, I have insurance. I’m doing my damnedest to be like Harper and look on the bright side.
I’m more gloomy by nature, so it’s hard.
But after talking to my sister earlier, I feel better.
She reminded me of all the positive things I needed to hear, and she and Ryland vowed to help me get Charlie’s Place up and running again.
Guess it’s a lot more than just a shattered door now.
Looking around, I wonder where Laurent went.
He turned out to be a pillar of support, taking charge when the police arrived, helping me answer their questions.
He even held my hand. Looking down, I lace my fingers together and squeeze.
We haven’t had a chance to talk alone yet, and I have no idea why he was here when the explosion happened, but I’m so grateful for his presence.
I know he claims he’s no hero, but I’m going to disagree with that statement. Wholeheartedly. The way he swooped in and pulled me from the fire before I risked my life and tried to stupidly put it out myself…
He’s a hero in my book. No doubt about it.
As if on cue, he appears from around the corner of the restaurant, carrying something, although I can’t quite see what.
He crosses the street, sits down beside me and gives me the item in his hand.
My heart clenches as I look down at the cracked frame holding the scorched picture of my parents, Harper and me.
It must’ve gotten blown off the wall… And he found it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, voice catching as I begin wiping the soot off the edges. All of a sudden, the weight of what happened presses down on my shoulders, and it’s like I’m being crushed. Despair fills me. “What am I going to do?”
“Please, don’t cry.” He slides an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. He feels so strong and solid, while I’m a trembling mess of emotions. “I have an offer for you.”
Surprised, I glance over, blinking my tears away. “What’re you talking about?”
“You plan on re-building your restaurant, right?”
I swipe a hand under my runny nose. “Yes, but—”
“So, you’re going to need investors.”
My mouth drops open. Is he offering to help me rebuild? Hope surges within my chest. It seems too good to be true. “You want to invest in Charlie’s Place?”
He shifts beside me. “Let’s just say I have a proposition for you.”
Frowning, I pull away. “What kind of proposition?” My brows knit together and I immediately think of that old movie Indecent Proposal.
“A business proposition,” he clarifies, as if reading my dirty mind. “Let’s get some café and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”
At this point, I have nothing else to do today—and probably tomorrow—so why the hell not? I’ve already given a statement to the authorities, spoken to my sister, and informed all my employees about the fire since I’m not entirely sure who already knows.
With a soft sigh, I get up and point to a small coffee shop down the street. “I could use some caffeine,” I murmur.
“Me, too.”
A few minutes later, we’re sitting at a small table inside, sipping coffee. A large, hot mocha won’t rebuild my restaurant, but it tastes delicious. Some comfort in a cup. Across from me, Laurent watches me closely as he drinks an espresso.
“I think there’s a way we can help each other,” he begins, setting his cup down. His vibrant green eyes hold me hostage, and I can’t seem to look away.
“How?”
“We each want something. You need help rebuilding and, let’s face it, insurance only covers so much. And they’ll be in no hurry to cut you a check. If I come on board, you can get things rolling. You could upgrade things, find a better location, build a bigger place. Whatever you want.”
“And in return?” I ask, unable to keep the suspicion from my voice. Because although I don’t know Laurent well—hell, I don’t even know his full name—I do know he’s a self-proclaimed thief. Is that the kind of person I want to do business with? That I can trust?
God, I hope so. Because we both know how much his investment could help speed up the process.
The insurance company might drag their feet for months.
Hell, depending on what caused the fire, they might even fight paying anything.
But if Laurent invests, I could look for a new spot and start setting up as soon as next week.
“In return, you’ll help me get back the book that was stolen from me last night.”
I’m not sure why he needs my help, or what I could even do to help him, but I’m in a desperate position, which is making me much more willing to listen than I was before. “Go on.”
“It’s a rare copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by—”
“Lewis Carroll,” I finish, and he arches a dark brow. “That’s my favorite book. Ever since I was little, I’ve always loved it. My dad used to read it to me before bed.”
An unreadable look passes over his face before it disappears just as quickly and he’s back to business. “You help me, I help you.”
“I’m not sure how I can help,” I admit, struggling to understand why he wants me and not Addie and her ring of thieves.
Or even Ryland and his friends. Well, other than the fact that they’re all law-abiding citizens now and Laurent is…
not. “I have no experience when it comes to, um, stealing. I can’t break into a house or a safe or deactivate an alarm.
I can barely work the remote control for my streaming service. ”
He chuckles. “Perfect. Absolutely idéal.”
“I don’t follow. Wouldn’t you be better off asking Addie and her crew to help you? What good would I be on a heist? I’ve watched Ocean’s Eleven three times, and I still don’t understand how they manage to do it. And don’t even get me started on Inception.”
Laurent throws his head back and laughs. “I promise, it’s nothing as complicated as that plot. And I am going to get Addie and her people to help with the technical aspects. She owes me. Hell, they all do. But you’re going to be the star of the entire show, chérie.”
I still don’t understand, and he’s not telling me what it is he wants me to do. But the temptation to help get the book in return for him cutting me a check is too good to dismiss. “If I help you get this book back—”
“You hand me the book and I hand you the check,” he states, then makes a little X over his heart. “I promise.”
“And all I have to do is—”
“Fly with me to Denver, meet Addie’s crew and retrieve the book from a man named Adam Voss.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is easy.” His green eyes glint in a ray of sunshine. So alluring, and brimming with roguishness. “All you’ll have to do is walk through his front door and take the book. C'est simple comme bonjour!”
I tilt my head and scrunch my nose. A reminder I don’t speak French.
“It’s as simple as hello,” he translates with a sly grin.
Riiiight. You know, as nice as that sounds, I’m not entirely convinced.