Page 5 of Trophy

The next day, Allison woke up sore and exhausted.

She’d always worked out regularly at an expensive gym, but what she’d done yesterday was a different kind of physical labor, and she wasn’t used to it.

She was tempted to stay in bed, but then she rolled over and saw that her clock said it was seven thirty.

She had too much to do today. She had to go in at nine about that receptionist job, and then she needed to fix her toilet, since the running sound had driven her crazy all night.

She also needed to see if she could get any more of the furniture up from the basement.

Right now the house was mostly empty, and she wasn’t sure how long she could live like that.

So she closed her eyes and gave herself a mental pep talk—reminding herself that she only needed to live here for a year or two, until she got back on her feet and could get a job closer to the city.

If she stayed in bed this morning, it would mean Arthur had won a victory over her, and she wasn’t going to let him do that.

With a groan, she heaved herself to her feet and headed for the bathroom.

She had no idea what a small-town woman might wear to an interview for a receptionist job at the local dentist. When she got out of the shower, she scanned the portable clothes racks she’d bought at Walmart the previous day, searching for something simple and respectable.

She had very little in her wardrobe that fit that description.

Finally she settled on a long, sleeveless linen dress in a subdued tan. It was looser than most of her other dresses, and it didn’t look designer or ridiculously expensive. She rolled up her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck and added lowish heels and a pretty pink and tan scarf.

Scanning herself in the mirror, she decided she looked as much like a Fielding woman as she possibly could. It was just eight thirty, so she poured her coffee into a travel mug and went to buy a local newspaper so she could look for more job postings.

She felt encouraged, though. Maybe this receptionist job would work out.

Maybe she could start earning money so she could continue taking courses toward her college degree.

It wouldn’t be long before she could graduate and find a job more like what she wanted—preferably in Charlotte.

Maybe she could even save up enough money to open that jewelry shop she’d always dreamed of.

She might be tired and sore, but she was hopeful. She was finally doing something entirely on her own, and things were going to work out.

The receptionist interview was a bust.

She didn’t even actually get to interview. An overweight, middle-aged woman just scanned her application and told her she didn’t have any experience and wasn’t qualified.

So at ten minutes after nine she was back in her tank of a car, slumping against the seat and wondering if she should just give up on the day, since it had started so badly.

After a few minutes she shook off the disappointment and checked the job listings in the newspaper again.

There were only a few jobs listed at all, and most of them were ads for skilled workers like electricians or car mechanics.

There was a fast-food restaurant hiring, but it was a half hour away from where she lived, and she hated the idea of driving that far for such a terrible job.

In the suburbs outside of Asheville, there would be restaurants and shopping centers, but those jobs wouldn’t be much better, and she suspected the cost of gas for her Cadillac would eat up most of her earnings.

Maybe something would pop up in the paper tomorrow. She gave up for the moment and headed for the hardware store.

It was called West Hardware, and it was the largest store in town, taking up half a block of the four blocks that made up downtown Fielding. Behind it, backing up to the river, was an enormous yard with huge stacks of lumber and piles of gravel and dirt.

She experienced an involuntary shudder of anxiety as she walked down the sidewalk toward the door. She’d never been in a place like this before, and it was surprisingly intimidating.

Her only other choice, however, was to ask Rob to fix her toilet after she’d told him she could do it on her own, so she squared her shoulders and walked in.

The place wasn’t nearly as large as a big-box store, but it was big enough to be confusing. There weren’t any helpful signs to tell her what aisle the plumbing stuff was on, and she had no idea where to start. She looked around blankly with another cold rush of anxiety.

What the hell was she even doing here?

“The flappers are three rows to the right,” a male voice came from behind her.

She jerked slightly as she turned around to see Rob standing right in front of her. It was as if her thoughts had conjured him. Did the man have to hang out everywhere she went in town? “Excuse me?”

“You’re here for the flapper for your toilet, right?” He gave her a half-questioning smile. “They’re over here. I’ll show you.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

She followed him over to the aisle and couldn’t help but notice that he was even better-looking today. He’d shaved and was dressed in khakis and a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He even smelled kind of nice—not expensive like Arthur always had but clean and faintly masculine.

They stopped in front of a huge selection of toilet parts that all looked mostly the same to Allison. Rob was reaching for something when a young woman came up to him.

“Rob, I need you to sign this,” she said with a smile that Allison could recognize very easily. The woman was young and cute and was obviously looking at a man she was interested in.

Rob silently signed the paper on the clipboard she handed him and turned back to Allison.

“You work here?” she asked, finally realizing what should have been obvious.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “Guilty.”

“You didn’t tell me yesterday that you worked here.”

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come in if you thought you’d see me here.” His voice was dry, surprisingly clever.

She suddenly felt like an ass for being so surprised by his cleverness. There was no reason why this good-looking, laid-back man wouldn’t be smart and have a good sense of humor. He might work with his hands, but that had nothing to do with his intelligence.

She always hated it when people judged her, and yet she’d done the same thing to him.

The smile she gave him was more real than before. “I wasn’t that prickly yesterday, was I?”

He looked briefly startled but then chuckled. “Just a little prickly, which is totally understandable when some strange guy comes along and invites himself into your house.”

For the first time in days, she heard herself laughing too.

He grabbed the part she needed, which was fortunately only a few dollars, and carried it over to the counter against the front wall.

“Are you settling in okay?” he asked as he rang up the price and slid the part in a plastic bag.

“Yes. So far, so good.”

“I can come over this evening and help you with this.” He passed her the bag as she handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

She was tempted but then remembered she wasn’t going to start relying on a man again. It had given her nothing but heartache and helplessness. She was in this town for the next year or two to learn to be independent. “That’s okay. I can do it. Thanks, though.”

“Just let me know if you have any trouble.” His eyes never left her face, and his appreciative expression triggered a shiver of excitement that ran down her spine. “I’m good at helping.”

“Hey, West,” another man called out, coming from the back of the store. “We’re running low on the red cedar mulch.”

“I know,” Rob replied, focusing over Allison’s shoulder on the man who had spoken. “We’re getting a shipment in tomorrow morning.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed as she realized something. “Your last name is West.”

“Yeah. I told you that yesterday, didn’t I?”

“As in West Hardware?”

His eyebrows twitched up. “What of it?”

“So you don’t just work here.”

“I do work here. But it’s my store, yeah. Why?”

“No reason. I just didn’t know.” She was suddenly afraid he might think she was interested in him now that she knew he was a somewhat successful businessman.

Maybe owning the hardware store was the top of the social ladder in Fielding.

Reacting quickly, she gave him a little smirk.

“So when you recommended I come here for this part, you were really just drumming up business for yourself.”

He laughed, his eyes warming with that appreciation she’d caught in them before. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”

She momentarily lost her breath as a wave of attraction washed over. This man might not be her type at all, but she couldn’t help but like how he looked, how he was laughing so naturally, how he was gazing at her.

She imagined herself kissing him, what his strong, rough hands would feel like on her body.

Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she snapped herself out of it. She was working on herself this year—figuring out who she really was, managing on her own—until she could get back to Charlotte. She wasn’t going to have a little fling with a blue-collar type, no matter how appealing he was.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

She’d turned to leave when she thought of something. “You’re not hiring here, are you?”

He’d been watching her walk away, but now his brows drew together. “Wasn’t planning on it. Why?”

“I really need a job.”

“You know a lot about the stuff we carry, do you?” His eyebrows had arched in a kind of questioning amusement.

She knew what that look meant, and her shoulders stiffened instinctively. “I could learn.”

“Maybe, but I’d end up with dozens of guys hanging around here, crowding the aisles, hoping to talk to you.”

She immediately understood what he meant, and she felt a little flush of pleasure that he thought she was pretty enough to attract dozens of guys to his store. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. If they were hanging out here, they’d buy stuff.”

He laughed softly. “I can just imagine all the guys coming out of the woodwork.” Then he shook his head. “But I can’t hire you if you can’t actually help people find what they need here.”

“Maybe I could,” she said. “You don’t know whether I could do it or not.”

His face sobered as he moved out from behind the counter and walked down an aisle. Since she assumed he wasn’t just walking away from her midconversation, she waited for him to return.

When he did, he had two different items, one in each hand. He held them up for her. “Say I was trying to change a light fixture. Which one of these would I need?”

Allison stared at the two items in his hands. After a minute she let out a long breath, slumping slightly. “I have no idea.”

“I’m really sorry,” Rob said gently. “But I can’t just hire you to be nice, when you can’t do the job.”

“I know. It was nice of you to at least take me seriously.”

Rob dropped the parts onto the counter and leaned back against it. There was someone else checking people out a few feet away, and Rob didn’t seem to care that the line was now up to four people. “They’re looking for a receptionist at the dentist in town. You should try for that job.”

“I already did.” Allison tried very hard not to sound discouraged. “I was told that I wasn’t a candidate since I don’t have any experience.”

Rob frowned. His eyes were resting on her, but he was clearly thinking. “You don’t know anything about cars, do you?”

“Not a thing.”

“What kind of jobs have you had before?”

She gave a huff of bitter amusement. “I got married when I was eighteen. I never had any jobs. I sat on charity boards. I was on the steering committee for a garden association. I volunteered at an art museum.” She gave a little shrug. “That’s about all the experience I have.”

Rob’s frown deepened.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, worried he was starting to think she was truly pitiful. “It’s really nice of you to try to help me. I’ll keep looking.”

He shook his head and reached over to grab a business card from a small rack on the other side of the counter. He scrawled something on the back and handed it to her.

“Dora’s is looking to hire a new waitress,” he said. “Would you be willing to wait tables?”

“Sure. Anything. But I didn’t see an ad for Dora’s.”

“Trey hasn’t posted it yet, but he said he was getting ready to. Give him the card.”

Her brows drew together as she read the note he’d written on the back of the card. She’s your new waitress. Trust me. R.

“But you don’t know me,” she said, a little breathlessly. “You shouldn’t vouch for me like that.”

He gave her that little half smile again, the one that seemed to indicate he was pleased with the direction the world was moving. “I’m owed more favors than I know what to do with. I can use one of them on this.”

“But why?” She really wanted to know.

“Everyone deserves a chance.”

Her smile was a little wobbly as she clutched the card in her hand. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He was clearly uncomfortable with too much gratitude and was making an effort to brush it off. “You sure you don’t want me to come over to help you with the flapper?”

She was more tempted than ever to accept, but once again she had the feeling that if she admitted she couldn’t do it, Arthur would somehow score another victory. “I’ve got it.”