Page 9

Chapter Nine

“ H ey, sweetie. How’s it going?” Rory grinned at Sue Ann over the counter, the scent of doughnuts finally smelling good and not like he wanted to die.

“Good. Miss Lori said you got food poisoning and were real sick for a couple three days.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He’d lost ten pounds when all was said and done. He kinda looked like a victim of some type of scourge.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. What would you like today?”

“Two apple fritters with coffee for me and a half dozen chocolate glazed for the office.”

“Lori in a mood?” She winked, the joke an old one.

“My sweet, even-keeled assistant? Never say so.”

“Ha! I went to high school with y’all, don’t forget. Puberty was something. I can’t wait to see her with menopause a few years down the road.”

“Yeah. Then I’ll need a full dozen.”

“You got it. I’ll throw in a couple of these new cinnamon bun crullers. Tell me what you think. ”

“Oh, man. You rock, honey. Thanks.” He paid his bill and put an extra five in the tip jar before grabbing his sack and his cup of Joe and heading out.

Grinning, he hummed a little bit of some song Lori kept playing at the office. Rory hated being sick, so today was a banner day, since he was all well.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the resident fudgepacker gracing our streets.” Doug Harris stood there, the portly fuck looking like Boss Hogg and Fred Gwynne had had a spectacularly ugly baby.

“Indeed, it is. Given that my family founded this town, I think the reverse is true, don’t you? You’re”—he wrinkled his nose—“gracing our streets.”

Harris scowled. “Your people were trash from the start, McConnell.”

“Oh, how frustrating for all you classy types that we ended up with all the money and toys, then.” He was not going to get into a growling match.

In fact, he felt like a million bucks, thank you.

Harris blew out a hard breath. “So full of yourself.” The man lowered his voice. “It doesn’t take much to bring you down. Just remember that. I do.”

“I’m not a wet-behind-the-ears kid anymore, old man. You just remember that.” He met Harris’s eyes dead-on, letting the icy cold determination to bring this man to his knees and make him suffer show. “I do.”

The words were low, soft and pointed enough to make Harris back away.

That’s right, you sorry son of a bitch. Run. Rory put his cheerful smile back on. “They have cinnamon things, Harris. Not that you need sweets. Your arteries, you know. Glug glug.”

“I am going to—” Harris stopped, fists clenched, and took a deep breath. “I know what you’re doing with the land buy up, McConnell. I intend to stop you.”

“You’re welcome to try.” He pushed up his sunglasses with his middle finger. “Have a glorious day, you old fuck.” Rory walked away before he said another word. That was the perfect ending to the conversation. Why didn’t he have a freeze ray or a fart gun or something?

Oh, he would be fabulous with a freeze ray. Amazing. Possibly epic. Zam! Zow! He’d freeze Harris’s penis, for a start.

Rory breezed into his office, singing If You’re Happy and You Know It . Loud.

Lori looked at him, eyes wide. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“So much. Coffee. I got you doughnuts, lady.”

“You are the best boss ever.” She stood and kissed his cheek.

“Of course I am. When I’m not puking on you. Hey, do I have anything open this afternoon?”

“You can, absolutely. I kept things liquid until I knew you were better.”

“Excellent. I have someone else besides you to apologize, too. Maybe I’ll take the cinnamon roll crullers.”

“Hell, no.” Lori grabbed the bag of pastries. “They’re boys. Take Whataburger.”

“Oh-ho! Listen to you, acting like you know where I’m going.”

“I do.” Her smile faded. “I know you, and while I appreciate why you want to apologize, I think it’s a bad strategy.”

“This isn’t strategy, Lore. It’s common decency. That’s what separates me from Harris.”

“There’s more than that. That bastard doesn’t deserve to be in the same sentence as you.” Lori had been there, back then. She knew. She understood.

“Yeah, he was breathing in my space out there on the street. I stared his skanky ass down, though, and I never hit him once.” He was damned proud. You never knew how a meeting with Harris would go.

“Good on you. I mean, there’s no telling what that smarmy snake in the grass will try, but I hate that he’s…hell, I hate him, full stop.”

“Me, too.” His momma would tell him hate poisoned a man, and it was a worthless emotion. The old man would say take an eye for an eye.

“We’ll manage it. I’ll clear your schedule for this afternoon.”

“Thanks. I know it’s just the doughnuts making you so nice, but I appreciate it.” Rory winked at her, then headed for his office to read email and suck back his coffee.

Thank God he felt better. Now, he could face apologizing to Luke.