Page 10 of Wrecked By You
The only thing she could tell him was the name I’d chosen to go under: Ella Reyes. “Ella” after my mother, Eleanor, and “Reyes” after my maternal grandmother’s maiden name. And if I ran again, I’d drop the name Ella Reyes faster than if I’d picked up a hot pan off the stove without protective gloves.
One thing was for sure, though: Eloise Fernandez had died six months ago. And I hoped she stayed dead.
“Well?” Ginny propped a hand on her hip. “How did it go?”
A smile inched across my face. “I start tonight.”
Ginny clapped her hands, then enveloped me in a squishy hug. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Mind you, it won’t be as relaxed as the last place I worked. I’ll have to be on my toes a hundred percent of the time. The owner is a right stickler. Grumpy, too.”
And also rather beautiful.
I pushed aside the thought. It didn’t matter what he looked like or how sunny or dour his personality was. I only cared that he’d given me a chance, and I couldn’t mess it up.
“Well, if anyone can win him over, it’s you.”
I grimaced. “Not unless I discover I have a superpower.”
Ginny chuckled.
“Are you certain you’re still fine to watch Chloe? I’ll make sure she’s bathed and in bed before I leave, and I should be home by three, so I can still take her to school.”
Ginny narrowed her eyes at me in a way I’d come to understand as “brace for a lecture.”
“You need to make sure you don’t burn out. I can take her to school. It’s no bother.”
I shook my head. “I’d rather do it.” Taking Chloe to and from school was nonnegotiable. I felt better knowing I’d been the one to witness her going inside and the school locking the doors. Mateo couldn’t get to her there. Silly, really, especially as I’d have to leave her with Ginny when I went to work, but for me, it was all about reducing risk to a minimum.
Ginny sighed. “Girl, that stubborn attitude will bite you on the ass one day.”
“I’m young. I have bags of energy. And I can take a nap during the day to make up for the lack of sleep at night.”
Her eyes narrowed further, and she harrumphed in that way older people seemed to master, whereas on a younger person, it’d just sound weird. She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then swiveled them around to point them at me. “I’m watching you.”
I chuckled, moving in for another hug. “Do I smell cookies?”
“Yes, you do. Chocolate and raspberry. And don’t think your diversionary tactics have worked, missy, because they haven’t.”
She whipped around and bustled back to the kitchen. I followed, grinning and, not for the first time, thanking whatever angel had placed her in the diner that day. I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if she hadn’t taken us into her home. To be fair, after Mateo had almost caught us in New Mexico, I hadn’t thought further ahead than getting away, but Ginny had saved us, and I’d be forever grateful to her for her act of kindness toward a stranger.
Crumbs of cookie dough and a dusting of flour covered the countertop. I reached for a cloth and began cleaning up. Ginny chuckled.
“You and your obsession with tidiness.”
I grinned. “It’s an affliction, I know. I just like things neat.”
Ginny bent down and retrieved the cookies from the oven, tipping them onto a wire rack. I reached for one and got my wrist slapped for my troubles.
“Ow.” I pulled it to my chest.
“They’re too hot. And they’re for Chloe. Chocolate and raspberry are her favorite.”
“There’s”—I made a guesstimate—“at least twenty cookies. If she eats all those, she’ll have a stomachache for days.”
“Go on, then,” Ginny groused. “You can have one.”
I snagged one, blew on it to cool it down, and took a bite. “Oh my God, Ginny, you should sell these. You’d make a fortune.” I swore that Ginny’s baking got better and better. I’d have to watch Chloe like a hawk in case she gobbled up the entire batch.