Promising Angela Read Online Free PDF Page B

for his earlier evasiveness, he assumed a teasing tone. “Why? Don’t you eat?”
    She turned her face slightly to look at him. Worry and uncertainty showed in her eyes. “I—I can’t bring anything.”
    He could make no sense of that comment. “Why not?”
    A huge breath huffed out, and she flipped her hands outward. “I can’t cook!”
    Ben burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”
    She glared at him.
    His laughter died. “You really can’t cook? But—you’re what—twenty-one, twenty-two?”
    “Twenty-three,” she said grimly. “And I know how pathetic it is, but …” She paused, biting down on her lower lip for a moment. Finally she sighed and admitted, “Ben, I never had to do much of anything in the way of chores while growing up. We’ve always had servants. Mother said menial chores were beneath us, and Dad insisted that’s what he paid the maid and cook to do. So, I just haven’t learned.”
    Ben stared in amazement. Her comments sure explained a lot about her standoffish behavior at work. But never having chores was beyond the scope of his understanding. He and his sister had been responsible for household duties from an early age. Especially after Dad died, Mom had depended on them to help out. And now that he was grown, he appreciated it. He lived alone, but he could take care of himself, cleaning house, doing laundry, cooking—and not just dumping soup from a can—real cooking.
    “Well …” He scratched his head. “I tell you what. I’ll bring the covered dish and you just … come.”
    Her jaw dropped. “You can cook?”
    He managed to swallow his laughter. “Yeah. I make a mean enchilada casserole with chilies and onions and lots of gooey cheese. Sound good?” He was amazed how important it had become to put her at ease.
    Her lips quivered into a weak smile. “It does sound good, but …” She tipped her head, her curls spilling across her shoulder and catching the afternoon sun. “Are you sure it’s okay to go and not bring anything?”
    He grabbed the steering wheel with both hands before one sneaked out and captured one of those spiraling curls. “Perfectly okay. So … do you want to go?”
    A full smile lit her face. “Yes, I do. Thank you.”
    Ben nodded. “Okay then. I’ll be back a little before six. See you then.”
    She thanked him again and scooted out of the truck. He watched her bounce up the walk, swinging her purse. She paused on the porch, turned around, waved, and then disappeared inside.
    Ben sat at the curb for a few minutes, drinking in the ostentation of the brick and mortar two-story house. He’d been in too much of a rush this morning to really look at it, but at close examination, it was incredible. Pillars extended from the bricked porch floor to the second-story roof. At least three chimneys stretched toward the sky. The garage behind it could easily hold four vehicles. He craned his neck, his eyes widening. Was that a pool house?
    He shook his head, curiosity overflowing. A huge house, servants, the silver rocket … Why was someone who obviously had no need to work filling a minimum-wage position at New Beginnings? There was more to Angela Fisher than met the eye. Suddenly Ben was determined to get to the bottom of her secrets. Maybe this evening would help shed a little light on things….

five
    Angela glanced up from the dishwashing station when she heard the tinkle of the bell announce a visitor. She looked toward the door, and an involuntary gasp accompanied the tensing of her body. The visitor was hers—Officer Brighton. He held a brown paper bag at his side. Angela’s heart flip-flopped in her chest.
    “Angela? Are the cups done?”
    Angela, flustered, turned back to Steve. The man pointed to the cups stacked in the dishwashing tray. She gave a quick glance at the cups lined up in the plastic tray and pushed her lips into a smile.
    “You did a great job, Steve. You filled all the slots. Now can you check to be sure all of the