Free Simple Deceit (The Harmony Series 2) by Nancy Mehl Page A

fellow.”
    “Well, thank you, ma’am,” he drawled.
    Mary suddenly appeared next to us, carrying two large platters, which she plopped down in front of us, a big grin on her face.
    “I’m pretty sure I know what a chicken salad sandwich looks like,” I said. “And this isn’t it. It looks more like steak to me.”
    She chuckled. “Look, you guys, I appreciate that you both ordered something cheap after I told you lunch was on me, but I really wanted to fix you a nice meal. I know you both love my rib eyes, so I took it upon myself to change your orders.” She whirled around on her heels. “I’ve got two large Caesar salads along with some buttery garlic bread in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
    Two huge sizzling steaks sat in front of us, covered with mounds of sautéed mushrooms. On the edge of each plate, stuck into whatever room was left, was a gigantic baked potato slathered in butter, sour cream, and chives.
    “Wow!” Sam said, his face glowing with the promise of enough food to feed a family of four. “That was such a nice thing for Mary to do.” He gave me a silly, sloppy, sideways smile. I recognized it. Sam had slipped into meat utopia, a place where men live in ecstasy and women live in fear of never fitting into their jeans again.
    “I appreciate the sentiment,” I whispered, “but I’m not looking to welcome back that ten pounds I lost.”
    “Whatever you can’t finish…”
    I waved my fork at him. “No way. I don’t want to have to roll you out of here.”
    Sam laughed and then prayed over our food. With a big smile, he speared his steak with his fork and cut off a big chunk with his knife. After stuffing it into his mouth, he closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.
    “You look ridiculous,” I told him in a tone that should have brought conviction. However, my first bite completely explained his reaction. Mary’s cook, Hector, sure knew how to grill a steak. I’d taken my third bite by the time Mary returned with our salads and hot garlic bread.
    “Now you two enjoy yourselves,” she said, covering every open surface left on our tabletop with food. “And for dessert—”
    “Whoa.” I shook my head. “I doubt I can get all this down. As generous as your offer is, nothing with sugar or chocolate will pass through these lips today.”
    “What kind of dessert?” Sam asked, happily smacking his mouth.
    I started to chastise him when I noticed that Eric was heading for the door.
    “Hey,” I said softly, “he’s leaving. Should you ask him again if he wants you to tag along when he talks to Rand?”
    Sam quickly wiped his face with his napkin and hurried over to catch Eric right before he pushed the front door open. Mary and I stared at them, but we couldn’t really make out what they were saying. The radio was playing the Marty Robbins song “El Paso.” All I could hear was something about “a handsome young stranger lying dead on the floor.” A chill ran through my body.
    “Does Sam really think Rand might hurt Eric?” Mary asked.
    “I don’t know. Most people don’t really know Rand, and they’re not sure just what he’s capable of.”
    Mary nodded. “He’s eaten here quite a bit. Sometimes withhis family. Sometimes alone. I can’t get him to talk. I gave up a long time ago. I just take his order and bring him his food.” She leaned over close to me. “He doesn’t tip,” she said softly, shaking her head.
    “Why is it I don’t find that the least bit surprising?”
    Harold’s loud voice interrupted Mary’s response. “Hey, Mary. Could I get another cup of coffee sometime in this century?”
    “Just keep your shirt on, Harold,” she shot back. “I have some real customers here.”
    The elderly man laughed loudly.
    “Better get going,” Mary said with a smile. “Hey, after you’ve gotten settled in, why don’t we get together for dinner?” She waved her hand in a semicircle. “I’ll close early and we’ll have the whole place