brisk manner, Abby followed. “We have to talk.”
“I can’t right now. I’m real busy.” His voice was abrupt and final.
She chewed on her lower lip. Immovable object. She now knew exactly what that meant. Well, she didn’t need Jonas Parker.
“I don’t want or need you to go. I can do this by myself.” She eyed him thoughtfully, as he shuffled papers on his desk. “I’m just wondering how he got you to change your mind. Last night you were vehemently against it. And today, just like that—” she snapped her fingers “—you agreed to go.”
He kept shuffling the papers as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Mr. Brewster has something on you, doesn’t he?”
He raised his head, his brown eyes so dark that she could feel their heat. “That’s why you take crap from him. That’s why you continue to stay under such unpleasant conditions.” She paused, then asked, “What does he have on you?”
Jonas picked up a clipboard and came around his desk. “As I said, I got work to do.” The words came out curt, and she knew she wasn’t going to get anything out of him…today. She would eventually, she vowed.
“I need the keys to the file room,” she said, before he could leave the room. “Mr. Brewster said you had them. I’m looking for Delores Alvarez’s family’s address.”
He walked back, opened a drawer, threw keys on the desk and pointed down a hall. “Second door on the right and it’s not air-conditioned.”
She picked up the keys. “Is that supposed to deter me?”
“A hurricane wouldn’t deter you, Ms. Duncan.”
So they were back to “Ms. Duncan.” It made her want to smack his face.
What was wrong with her? She’d wanted to smack Earl earlier and now she wanted to hit Jonas. That wasn’t her. She didn’t like hitting. Even when Kyle had hit her, she hadn’t hit him back. Because she’d never hit anyone in her life. So why the sudden urges? Urges! That’s all they were. Urges brought onby the trauma of her father’s death and her divorce. Did that make sense? No, nothing made sense to her these days—especially her interest in Jonas.
She favored men in tailored suits with manners and a sense of humor. Jonas was as far removed from that as one could get. He probably didn’t even own a suit, and his sense of humor was nonexistent. He did have good manners, though. Oh hell, she needed to get a grip.
Without a word, she turned and hurried to the file room. She looked at the key ring. There had to be twenty keys on it. Which one?
“It’s the third key,” said a familiar voice. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jonas standing behind her with a chair in his hands. “You have to prop the door open with a chair. The lock is old, and if the door closes, you’ll lock yourself in.”
“Thank you kindly for the information and the chair,” she quipped sarcastically.
“No problem,” he snapped, and went into the warehouse.
For the next three hours she searched cabinet after cabinet, looking for the name Alvarez. She had never realized how many people had worked at Brewster Farms over the years—thousands, all dependent on Mr. Brewster for a living. Some workers were permanent legal workers, some seasonal, some migrant. Most were Mexican, and she suspected a lot were illegals. Every name imaginable was in the files. She found several Alvarezes, but no Delores. She grew tired and hungry and decided to go home for a while.
Jonas wasn’t in the office, so she locked the door and took the keys with her. She had a sandwich and iced tea, then wrote her mom a note saying not towait up for her. Her mother was a schoolteacher and wouldn’t be home until later in the day.
When Abby arrived back at Brewster Farms, she saw Edna’s car at the mansion. That was one woman Abby planned to avoid. When Edna, Jules and Darby found out what she was doing, they were going to be furious. A long-lost daughter could ruin their plans for the future.
When she entered the office, Jonas
“I can’t right now. I’m real busy.” His voice was abrupt and final.
She chewed on her lower lip. Immovable object. She now knew exactly what that meant. Well, she didn’t need Jonas Parker.
“I don’t want or need you to go. I can do this by myself.” She eyed him thoughtfully, as he shuffled papers on his desk. “I’m just wondering how he got you to change your mind. Last night you were vehemently against it. And today, just like that—” she snapped her fingers “—you agreed to go.”
He kept shuffling the papers as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Mr. Brewster has something on you, doesn’t he?”
He raised his head, his brown eyes so dark that she could feel their heat. “That’s why you take crap from him. That’s why you continue to stay under such unpleasant conditions.” She paused, then asked, “What does he have on you?”
Jonas picked up a clipboard and came around his desk. “As I said, I got work to do.” The words came out curt, and she knew she wasn’t going to get anything out of him…today. She would eventually, she vowed.
“I need the keys to the file room,” she said, before he could leave the room. “Mr. Brewster said you had them. I’m looking for Delores Alvarez’s family’s address.”
He walked back, opened a drawer, threw keys on the desk and pointed down a hall. “Second door on the right and it’s not air-conditioned.”
She picked up the keys. “Is that supposed to deter me?”
“A hurricane wouldn’t deter you, Ms. Duncan.”
So they were back to “Ms. Duncan.” It made her want to smack his face.
What was wrong with her? She’d wanted to smack Earl earlier and now she wanted to hit Jonas. That wasn’t her. She didn’t like hitting. Even when Kyle had hit her, she hadn’t hit him back. Because she’d never hit anyone in her life. So why the sudden urges? Urges! That’s all they were. Urges brought onby the trauma of her father’s death and her divorce. Did that make sense? No, nothing made sense to her these days—especially her interest in Jonas.
She favored men in tailored suits with manners and a sense of humor. Jonas was as far removed from that as one could get. He probably didn’t even own a suit, and his sense of humor was nonexistent. He did have good manners, though. Oh hell, she needed to get a grip.
Without a word, she turned and hurried to the file room. She looked at the key ring. There had to be twenty keys on it. Which one?
“It’s the third key,” said a familiar voice. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jonas standing behind her with a chair in his hands. “You have to prop the door open with a chair. The lock is old, and if the door closes, you’ll lock yourself in.”
“Thank you kindly for the information and the chair,” she quipped sarcastically.
“No problem,” he snapped, and went into the warehouse.
For the next three hours she searched cabinet after cabinet, looking for the name Alvarez. She had never realized how many people had worked at Brewster Farms over the years—thousands, all dependent on Mr. Brewster for a living. Some workers were permanent legal workers, some seasonal, some migrant. Most were Mexican, and she suspected a lot were illegals. Every name imaginable was in the files. She found several Alvarezes, but no Delores. She grew tired and hungry and decided to go home for a while.
Jonas wasn’t in the office, so she locked the door and took the keys with her. She had a sandwich and iced tea, then wrote her mom a note saying not towait up for her. Her mother was a schoolteacher and wouldn’t be home until later in the day.
When Abby arrived back at Brewster Farms, she saw Edna’s car at the mansion. That was one woman Abby planned to avoid. When Edna, Jules and Darby found out what she was doing, they were going to be furious. A long-lost daughter could ruin their plans for the future.
When she entered the office, Jonas
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