AUTHOR'S NOTE
DURING FLASHBACKS: The words in italics are directly quoted from 'Twelve Sharp' and are copyright of Janet Evanovich. Lightly edited only to change from first person to third person.
0 o 0
Stephanie was still smiling from her chance meeting with Manny when she got into the Uber. Today had been a pretty good day so far. She'd met an old friend and, even better, she'd been able to explain her refusal to make use of Rangeman's services to Ranger. That second part was harder than it might seem. Anyone watching back in the day would have seen her arguing with people. The problem was, she'd ignore the real issue and squabble over something inconsequential. Therapy had really opened her eyes and helped her understand what she was doing. Like when she had learned that spats with Joe over throwing out her peanut butter and olives weren't about the food, but about respecting boundaries.
She'd been lucky to have mild, complacent Kevin to practice her new skills with. It had been a few years since she'd needed to put those into practice, though, and she was feeling rusty. Even something as simple as saying, 'Hey, here's what I'm thinking' seemed like the start of an argument, and she had the hardest time opening up.
Plus, everything sounded so much better in her head. So often she had entire conversations all laid out, with every point she needed to make, and the best way to make it. But the moment she opened her mouth, the words dissipated like smoke in the wind. This time, she'd done it. She'd said the words, Ranger had responded, and they had had an honest to goodness discussion.
The driver dropped her off in front of the office building that housed the Miami branch of GNR. From Steph's research, she knew that the firm took up half of one floor. That made this office seem smaller than its Chicago cousin, until you looked at the size of each building. Miami definitely took up more space and had more employees. She paused to text Ranger that she'd made it safely, then headed into the lobby.
Less than an hour later, she was back on the street in front of the building, her good mood prolonged by what felt like a successful interview. Even with an appointment, she had expected to wait. That was often par for the course with higher-ups. Always playing power games, like making you wait just to show that they could. That went double since she'd shown up a bit early for her interview.
But Beena Kamdar had invited Steph into her office minutes after she'd arrived. Beena was a few years younger and a few inches shorter than her, with brown eyes that sparkled with wit and intelligence. Her dark brown hair was cut short in a style that looked flattering but easy to maintain. Stephanie envied that. It didn't take long for the two of them to hit it off. Beena would fit right in with her friend's group in Chicago. Her mind was quick, clever, and occasionally ribald. When ushering Steph out of her office, Beena had said that she'd have to consult with the two other lawyers before a decision was made, but that sounded like a formality. In fact, she was feeling so positive that while waiting for the elevator to take her down to the lobby, she'd texted Ranger again, saying that it had gone well and reminding him that she'd be checking out the area.
After a few minutes checking her notes and comparing the online maps to her physical location, she was ready to tackle downtown. Well, this part of downtown. Like Chicago, Miami was sprawling, with multiple areas that could be considered "downtown". There was so much available within walking distance. There was a YMCA and a Whole Foods market a block north, and an intriguing "food court" venue similar to but larger than the Ponce City Market she'd seen when visiting the Atlanta office. Best of all, there were very cool waterfront parks, just minutes away on foot, that looked perfect for eating lunch and people watching.
Stephanie stopped in at the Y to get a feel for it and picked up information about classes. The food court building was another block north, so she decided to save that for another day and headed back south at the next corner. After going three quarters of the way around the block, she was getting hungry. There was a little hole in the wall sandwich shop on the map that looked promising, and it was on the way to the Riverwalk Park. But there were other places just as tempting between where she stood and the park entrance. She texted Ranger that she was scouting out a place for lunch, then made good on that declaration.
In the end, Steph picked the little place that had caught her eye on the map. The large sign above the glass door simply said "Mirta's Place". The window to the left of the door was lettered with "A Little of Everything, Breakfast & Lunch" and the window to the right with "Un Poco de Todo, Desayuno y Almuerzo", which she took to be the same phrase in Spanish. Granted it was lunchtime on a weekday but judging by the crowd, the food must taste as good as it smelled. What few tables there were were all full and anyway, she wanted to eat in the park. A Cuban sandwich, with a side of plantain chips, and a bottle of sweet tea should be easy to handle. The line moved quickly, and soon she was holding a bag with her takeout, heading for the Riverwalk Park.
Stephanie would be too embarrassed to admit how much time she'd spent studying the satellite views of this whole section of Miami, from Rangeman down to here. This particular route along the river, which went east first then took a sharp turn north, should be an easy route to the Bayfront parks. The map had promised a ten minute walk from the front door of the office building to the war memorial in the park. Checking her watch as she arrived at the monument, she smiled. Yep. An easy walk to a pretty place. Picking a bench she settled in, putting her purse beside her and opening up her lunch. The food was excellent. At first, as she ate, she observed the people around her, but soon she began to look inward instead.
The dinner tonight with Julie had been weighing heavily on her, especially after pulling out her old thought journals prior to this visit. Running into Manny had gone so well and made her happy, but then the whole ugly situation with Scrog came to mind, the way a bitter aftertaste lingers on the tongue. The wifey / hubby schtick with Manny had sprung from the Scrog situation. Ranger, a suspect in the kidnapping of his own daughter and the focus of a manhunt, had been forced to lay low and had come to her for help. When Manny had been shot point blank by the Imposter Ranger, Scrog, the only way for Ranger to get to Manny in the hospital and ask him directly what happened was to send Stephanie. Her way in was to tell the staff that she was his wife.
Looking back at her behavior, Stephanie was mortified. The man who would drop anything to immediately assist her, with no limits and no questions asked, had to persuade her to help him find his kidnapped child. It shouldn't even have mattered whose child it was. The fact that a child had been grabbed should have been enough to set her in motion. The tone of her journal entries about Scrog, from the early days of her counseling, was whiny and entitled. She didn't even recognize herself, and was heartily thankful she'd outgrown her. Overall those entries reeked of 'But what about ME?'
When she did step up, she didn't take it seriously, even after Scrog had killed his wife Carmen and left the body for Steph to find. The situation took days to resolve, and she'd acted as if her only concern was getting caught helping Ranger, as if he was the issue, not the delusional Scrog. She'd given it the same casual nonchalance she'd give to picking up Mooner or Eula. Ho-hum. Just another easy, low-stress day.
After Scrog executed his wife, Steph and Ranger had driven around Newark, and then down to Virginia looking for him. They were in unfamiliar territory in Virginia when Ranger had asked her to turn the sound off on the GPS system. She'd poked at the gadget a couple of times but didn't feel like figuring it out, so she shut the whole thing down. They lost precious minutes when he had to pull over and reprogram it. His mouth was tight when he'd said that it was lucky she looked good in a T-shirt.
She had tried a flippant response that didn't go over well. "Lucky for you I don't have a gun on me."
Ranger turned to her. His voice was low and even, but there was a whisper of incredulous disbelief. "You're not carrying a gun?"
"Didn't seem necessary for us both to have one."
Ranger was hunting down a mentally unstable, homicidal man with Steph as his only backup, and she hadn't bothered to arm herself. No wonder he was incredulous.
It got even worse. Using Rangeman resources, Ranger had crafted a plan to lure Scrog out of hiding, using Stephanie as bait. She had agreed to the plan. They were implementing the plan. Halfway through, she abandoned the plan. She had changed cars, ditched her trackers and her panic button. Left Ranger, Tank, and the various Merry Men who'd been deployed and run off to the beach with Lula. Just thinking about it made her cringe. It hadn't even occurred to her until much later that his first thought when she went offline would be that she'd been taken. He must have been relieved to get hold of her until she started talking.
Her main concern was that she was running low on happy. That ten year old little girl had probably run out of happy days before, but Steph had never even thought about it. And the whole time, Stephanie kept acting like a teenager caught out after curfew. Like it was no big deal and the adults were over reacting. She'd known bailing on the plan was wrong. She'd said so to Lula as they cut through Vinnie's to ditch the car with the trackers for Lula's off-the-grid vehicle. Of course, she wouldn't admit that to Ranger when he called, though she did try to justify herself.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"I'm taking a day off."
"You removed the panic button."
"Yes, but I took a gun. And it's even loaded. And I have extra bullets. And Lula is with me."
Silence.
"Hello?" Stephanie said. "Are you mad?"
"Mad doesn't come close. Are you going to tell me where you are?"
"Not when you're in this kind of mood."
More silence.
"Are you trying to control yourself?" she asked. Easy to be brave when Ranger was in Trenton, and she was in Point Pleasant.
"Don't push me," Ranger said.
"You can keep going and going and going," Stephanie told him. "I'm not that strong. I'm running low on happy. And I hardly have any brave left at all. We were careful not to be followed. We're armed. We're sober. I'll be home this afternoon. I'll call you when I get to Trenton."
Every time she replayed this conversation in her mind, she winced at her lack of empathy for him. Looking back at those days now, Stephanie could see the constant tension in his body, and hear the strain in his voice. She'd been oblivious to it at the time, acting as if he was devoid of emotions. His daughter had been in the hands of a psycho for days, he didn't dare show his face in public or he'd risk being arrested or killed, and he couldn't bring the full force of his company to bear on the problem. The stress must have been incredible. The fact that he held it together enough to spearhead the response was a testament to his training and expertise in special forces, and to who he was as a person.
He'd been waiting when she returned to her apartment. Of course he'd known she'd gone to Point Pleasant. She'd told him she was low on happy and Point Pleasant was her happy place. The fact that she'd been surprised that he'd figured it out just proved how inept she was at sneaking around. He'd also proven that she wasn't nearly as attentive or clever as she thought.
"You followed me down there?"
"No, I sent Hal and Roy."
"I didn't see them."
"That's my point. Hal doesn't blend in. It's like being followed by a stegosaurus. So if you didn't see Hal, you sure as hell weren't going to pick out Edward Scrog." He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. "If you have an issue with me, I expect you to tell me about it, not run away."
"You don't listen."
"I always listen," Ranger said. "I don't always agree."
In Stephanie's family, no one ever talked to each other, and they certainly never discussed feelings. Other families in the neighborhood were either quietly repressed like hers, or loud because everyone always shouted at each other. Either way, there was no talking it out or working through something. It wasn't until she was in college that she learned to identify and name any emotion beyond good, bad, like, or don't like. And it wasn't until years later that she could recognize Ranger's calm, rational behavior in the face of great emotional upset as the precious thing it was.
The loud blast of a horn from a cruise ship made Stephanie jump, and pulled her back to the present. She checked the time, expecting to find that an hour or so had passed and was shocked to see she'd been here almost three hours. Oh crap. She had intended to give Ranger little updates throughout the day so he could still feel part of it. Instead she'd zoned out on a park bench, oblivious to her surroundings.
Pulling up her texts, she quickly typed out, "Lost track of time exploring Bayfront Park. Sorry! Heading back now. See you soon!"
A few flicks of her thumb and she had an Uber on the way. Shoving the takeout container and her empty bottle into the bag, she hurried to meet her ride, dropping the bag in the garbage on the way.
0 o 0
When she entered the apartment, Ranger was in the kitchen to her right, leaning against the counter and slipping his phone into his pocket. He was already dressed for their visit with his daughter and son-in-law. The dark blue jeans made a nice change from cargo pants, though the black boots were the same. His t-shirt was also black, and he'd tossed a long sleeved shirt over it, leaving the buttons undone. The cuffs were folded back to mid-forearm. At first she thought the shirt was a solid charcoal grey, then she noticed the very fine pinstriping. He looked delicious.
"Sorry if I worried you," she said.
Something flashed across his face. Concern, maybe? Relief? There was something else in there, something she couldn't quite identify but it pooled in his eyes. There was a fervent intensity to his gaze as he looked her over. A muscle twitched in his jaw and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. In two quick steps, he had her in a full body hug, one arm sliding up her back and the other coming around her shoulders with his hand cupping the back of her head.
Startled by the force of his grasp, it took her a second to wrap her arms around him in turn. Nuzzling her face into his neck, she breathed deeply. Lime and bergamot mingled with the warm scent of his skin, and she felt herself relax as she inhaled. Her ear was against his chest, listening to the thump of his heart, which was faster and more forceful than it should have been. They were locked together from hip to chest and she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. Despite how closely he held her, there wasn't a sensual vibe. It felt like comfort, or reassurance, but she couldn't tell which of them was giving the comfort and which was receiving it.
Yes, she could have texted more today, but this was out of proportion for a couple of hours without an electronic 'hello'. This was something unrelated. Old Stephanie might have obsessed over what it was, or assumed that she was imagining things. While New Stephanie had been encouraging Ranger to use his words, she was asking the same of herself. So instead of spiraling with assumptions, she opened her mouth.
"Did something happen while I was out?" Her words were muffled by his body, but she didn't feel like moving.
Ranger's voice was husky with that same emotion that she couldn't identify as he replied, "I'm just glad you're here."
It was another few heartbeats before he pulled away, kissing her forehead as he did.
"I don't mean to hurry you," Ranger said, as he moved into the living room, "but this time on a weekday, the trip will take an hour, maybe more unless we get lucky. One of the disadvantages of living downtown. We'll also be dropping the cat off in Control on our way down." Answering her unvoiced question, he added, "Someone from the personnel on duty asked if he could visit this evening."
"Don't worry," she said. "I only need a few minutes and we'll be good to go."
She went straight to the bedroom, dropping her purse onto the bed. Pausing only for a quick rummage through her things, she went into the bathroom and shut the door. First she freshened up, then combed her hair and put it back into the same clip and ponytail.
Ranger had passed along that Julie said it was casual, and based on his outfit that was certainly the case. But Stephanie felt a flutter of nerves every time she tried to picture her reception from that quarter. The photo that Ranger had sent of himself next to Julie, who was holding the pink otter from the aquarium, kept popping up in her mind's eye. Julie's expression had seemed guarded, and naturally Stephanie had fallen into her old habits and assumed that she was the reason, especially given her actions when Julie had been held captive.
Steph kept trying to tell herself two things. That she was reading far too much into one quick snapshot. And that she wasn't to blame for all the unhappiness in the world. That second item was a holdover from her early years that she'd mostly managed to push aside. As to whether Julie was privy to her rescue being delayed several hours by Stephanie wandering off in a pout, well, she sincerely hoped not, but was prepared to take any consequences if she did.
Taking off her necklace, she started to put it away in her bag then changed her mind and set it on the counter. Maybe it would be better to be overdressed than underdressed. Not that the rest of her outfit would be dressy, but the jewelry would kick it up a notch. Raise it from casual to dressy casual.
It might seem silly, but she wanted to look her best for Julie and her husband, Alec. Julie did know all about her epic flounce from Trenton and the damage she'd done – Mr. Pants was proof of that. Alec might too, depending on when he got to know Julie. Tonight, Stephanie had a second chance to make a first impression, and she wanted to make it a good one. No matter what, she'd be on her absolute best behavior at dinner, letting everyone get a good look at the older, wiser woman she'd become. Wait. Not just older. Mature. Those two things didn't necessarily come along at the same time. Older was a matter of sticking around long enough to keep hitting those birthdays. Mature meant learning the lessons that life had handed out. Learning them, and doing something about it.
While she intended to wear the boots to dinner, she had to remove them to change out her slacks for jeans. As she slid the jeans up and fastened them, she checked the fit in the mirror. Years ago, Ranger had made an off-hand comment that she filled out a pair of jeans nicely, using his hands to caress the curvature to which he referred. They never had made it to the restaurant that night. Pulling off the maroon shirt, she dropped it on the floor on top of the pants and grabbed the shirt she'd bought for this trip. It was a soft jersey knit with elbow length sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. The color started at the top of the shirt as a pale lavender, darkening as it went down the shirt to a rich saturated purple along the hemline. She put her boots and necklace back on and slipped into her dove grey cardigan.
Stephanie took one last look in the mirror, pleased with what she saw. She just might pull this off. She gave herself a nod then gathered up her clothes. Instead of dumping them in the hamper in the closet, she piled them on her suitcase. After all, the minute they got back from dinner, she'd have to get everything packed and ready for an early start in the morning.
She had expected Ranger to be waiting at the door with Mr. Pants in a carrier at his feet. Instead he was standing by the cat tree in the living room where the cat was curled up on the highest level. He was rubbing the cat's head with one hand and holding his phone to his ear with the other.
"Notify all personnel on duty that Protocol Active Containment And Tracking is in effect for the control hub," he ordered. "Subject will be onsite shortly."
She almost asked him how they knew what was to be actively contained and tracked, when she figured out the acronym was ACAT. A cat was being tracked. Clever.
"Lester?" she asked with a laugh.
Ranger gave her an amused look. "Of course. But it was Tank who made the warning signs." At her quizzical look he said, "You'll see. Protocol includes putting up signs in the elevator and both sides of the door at the stairwell. The reception desk downstairs is also supposed to warn anyone coming up."
While he spoke, Ranger got the cat into a harness and lead – both black, of course, with the Rangeman name and logo. Stephanie was surprised that the cat didn't fight it. If anything, he seemed eager.
"He's just … letting you do that," she said in amazement, as Ranger clicked the harness buckle in place.
"It's partly because when I first got him," Ranger replied, "he needed medical care and feeding around the clock so he came with me to Control every day. There was a list of personnel that wanted to help out and spend time with him, so he got used to busy surroundings and lots of people. I'm very fortunate that he also happens to be a naturally social cat. He reminds me of a big black cat named Willie that we had when I was a kid, who'd hang out on the sofa. Anytime visitors came in he expected them to come say hello, and if they didn't then he'd go greet them."
"I never really thought of you with pets," Stephanie said, "but if I did, I'd picture you with a dog."
"We had those, too, at my house and Lester's. There was always a variety of cats and dogs, along with the occasional wounded bird or squirrel or rabbit or whatever Lester had rounded up. He's always had such a way with animals that we used to call him The Disney Princess." Ranger grinned. "If you ever want to annoy him, call him that."
As they spoke, they moved along from the apartment, now locked, to the elevator. Stephanie couldn't stop staring as the cat trotted along beside them then sat quietly at Ranger's feet when they stopped. She'd seen videos of cats going for a walk on YouTube. Some of the cats protested by going limp and refusing to move. Others were perfectly happy, like Mr. Pants.
"Admittedly, it took me a while to get used to not quite being in charge. I had forgotten how independent cats could be. Luckily," Ranger said, though the dry tone of his voice coupled with the aggrieved way his eyes flicked upward negated the word, "I had Tank to remind me that no one can outstubborn a cat that has made up its mind."
The doors to the elevator opened. At the back of the elevator, and also next to the panel with all the buttons, the frames that had been empty now held identical placards. In white letters on a black background was the phrase, "Be Advised: ACAT is in Control"
Stephanie tried to stifle her laugh but couldn't keep from smiling. "So I see."
This time Ranger actually rolled his eyes but when the doors opened again, he was back to being serious. Facing them in a semicircle ten feet away, were Wraith, Gator, and three other people that Stephanie didn't know. They stood in silence with their feet apart, legs straight, shoulders back, and hands behind them. It looked like parade rest except instead of looking straight ahead, they were all looking down at the cat. Ranger took one step from the elevator, unclipped the lead from Mr. Pants' harness, but stayed where he was, adopting the same silent stance as the others. Not knowing what was happening, Steph followed his example.
As she stood there waiting for – well, she had no idea what they were waiting for but there was clearly an air of anticipation – she realized that the floor was much quieter than it should be. Looking around, she saw that anyone not actively engaged in a call was looking over the tops of their cubicles.
Movement on the floor brought her attention back to the cat who was sauntering over to the waiting Rangemen. Mr. Pants sniffed shoes and pant legs, checking out each one. Then he walked back over to Wraith and wound himself around her ankles.
Wraith pumped her arm in apparent victory, loudly exclaiming, "YES!" as Ranger handed her the leash. She rolled it up and tucked it in her pocket.
The others in the circle looked disappointed. Behind them there was activity in the cubicles that looked like money changing hands, though there was one corner where a very forlorn young man handed over a takeout container and received an apple in return. The apple-giver licked his lips and went straight to the breakroom.
Smiling down at the cat, Wraith said sweetly, "Come here, little man," and picked him up. With her arm supporting his back feet and rump, he sat up with his front paws against her shoulder. His head moved as he scoped out the employees, looking for all the world like a king on a throne. Wraith walked over to the cubicles and held out her free hand. Most of her co-workers came over, some putting cash in her hand, and all of them greeting Mr. Pants, King of the Control Room.
Stephanie startled at a touch on her shoulder. Ranger gestured back to the elevator then pushed the button. The doors opened immediately and they stepped inside.
"I see what you mean by a long list of people," she said.
"He's so used to company that I bring him down several times a week, otherwise he gets bored alone in the apartment. When he first arrived, I turned the closet next to the break room into a combination play and supply room for him. That way, if there's a big emergency and no one has time to watch him, he can be secured quickly yet still be monitored."
In no time at all, they were in his car and underway. 'If you could call it that,' thought Stephanie, 'in this bumper to bumper traffic.' No wonder he said it would take at least twice as long to get there on a weeknight. Even if it hadn't been getting dark outside, she'd been too consumed with her own musings to pay attention to the route. The car slowed and stopped as it had been doing off and on throughout the trip. When the engine turned off, though, she was jolted from her introspection. She had no idea where Julie lived, or how long it had taken to get there, but wherever it was, they'd arrived.
When Ranger had been filling her in on everyone that first night in Chicago, he'd mentioned that Julie was a conservation biologist, so when he said that dinner would be at Julie's house, Stephanie had pictured someplace out in the woods with lots of land and trees. Instead, she was looking at a typical high density, townhome-style development. Next to the house number by the door was the letter B. Julie's house was part of a quadplex, where four houses backed together into a square, giving each its own front entrance, one to each side of the square. If the design was like others she'd seen, the bottom floor would be one large living and dining area plus kitchen, and the second story would have the bedrooms and bath.
"Your parking luck strikes again," Stephanie pointed out as Ranger opened her car door. "Parking looks sparse and yet we're right in front of their unit."
"Alec parked in the guest lot," he said, "so that we could have his reserved spot."
He took her hand to assist her from the vehicle, then placed his on the small of her back to escort her up the walkway to the front door. The weight of his hand on her body felt intimate, connecting them in a way beyond mere touch. It had always thrilled her and steadied her in equal measure.
They were three steps from the door when it opened. Framed in the doorway were Julie and her husband, Alec Mason. Anyone with eyes would know that Julie was Ranger's child. She looked cute and comfy in a black dress with a floral print, a black sweater, and a pair of low-heeled black sandals. Stephanie guessed Alec's height at about six feet even. He wore tan chinos and black sneakers. Like Ranger, he wore a t-shirt under an unbuttoned shirt, though his t-shirt was brown and the overshirt was short-sleeved with a pattern of palm trees on a pale background. The outfit complemented his dark brown hair and hazel eyes.
"Sorry to make you drive through rush hour traffic." Julie said as she ushered them in, "but my bedtime gets earlier every week. This baby's tiring me out and she isn't even here yet."
From the smile on her face as she said it, Stephanie could tell she didn't mind.
"It's fine," Ranger assured her, as he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Whatever works for you is good, m'ija."
As he shook hands with Alec, he introduced him to Stephanie. She had been hanging back, not sure what she should do. It didn't feel like a hugging situation. But shouldn't Ranger's daughter and his girlfriend be close enough for hugs? Then again, the last time they'd talked Julie was thirteen and their interactions then had been sporadic and electronic. As for Alec, he seemed nice but this was the first time they'd ever met which seemed to call for a brief nod or, if they went all out, maybe a handshake. But Stephanie circled back to the family element. This was her boyfriend's son-in-law. Would not hugging send the wrong signals? What if that made her seem uncaring or aloof? Would that start things off on the wrong foot?
While her thoughts churned, and her smile turned awkward, Stephanie stood frozen with indecision, hands gripped tightly in front of her. Julie took the literal first step, moving forward and raising her arms and Steph automatically stepped into the hug with her.
"It's good to see you again," Julie said.
"Likewise," Stephanie replied. "And congratulations on the little one."
When Julie let go, Alec was right there with a hug of his own. There was a jerky uncertainty to his movements that matched her own. Knowing that she wasn't the only one feeling nervous was a relief.
With greetings over, Steph looked around. Her guess had been correct. Downstairs was one large open area. The shape wasn't a rectangle though. The far end of the room extended off to the left, giving it the shape of an upside down L. The front half where they stood was furnished as a living room. The back half was the dining room which had a breakfast bar where the left wall should have been. There was a glimpse of cabinets so that alcove held the kitchen.
"Where are the cats?" Ranger asked.
"Betty is in the catio," Alec said, "but Puffenstuff and Pimiento are upstairs."
Before Stephanie could wrap her head around those names, Julie was gesturing them into the house.
"Dinner is almost ready," Julie said. "Why don't you two sit at the breakfast bar so we can chat while we finish up?"
Alec led the way, taking up a position on the kitchen side of the bar where there was a cutting board, a knife, a large serving bowl, and fresh produce. Apparently, he'd been chopping his way through a container of spring mix when they had arrived. There was also a container of grape tomatoes and an avocado on standby. Julie bustled in after him, offering beverages while Ranger and Steph got seated. The dining table was set for four, with a pretty cloth table runner in the center.
"Bless the ready to cook section of the grocery store," Julie said as she peeked in the oven window. "We're having two flavors of quiche tonight – ham and Swiss, and spinach with feta and roasted red peppers. I'm roasting up some little red potatoes, dessert will be Torticas de Morón–" seeing Stephanie's confused look, Julie clarified, "Cuban Shortbread cookies – and fresh strawberries."
When she named the cookies, Julie pointed to a high-domed plastic container on the counter. Inside was a pile of fat, round cookies with a golden color. They were unknown to Stephanie, but she looked forward to making their acquaintance. Julie set a glass of iced tea in front of her and iced water in front of Ranger. Then she put olive oil, vinegar, a lime, and some spices on the counter alongside a bowl and a whisk. She paused to pull all of the dishes from the oven and set them on the stovetop.
"How long do those rest?" Alec asked her, waving the tip of the knife at the hot dishes.
"The label said five minutes," Julie replied. She held the lime out to him. "Can you cut this in half? Thanks."
Alec cut the lime then went back to assembling the salad while Julie began whisking up a vinaigrette. Stephanie enjoyed watching them work. They moved around each other with a practiced ease, and she wondered how long they'd been together, then wondered if she and Ranger would ever achieve that same sense of domestic familiarity. Probably not, she thought, mostly because she wasn't nearly as competent in the kitchen as anyone else in this house, except maybe the cats. Even more impressive, Julie was able to converse while making the dressing. Stephanie would've had to focus on the recipe.
"For transparency's sake, Stephanie," Julie said as she whisked ingredients, "I want you to know that when Ranger told me he'd run into you in Chicago, I was concerned because of the fallout from your departure."
Stephanie had expected something like this. Added to the shame and guilt she felt for her actions during Julie's kidnapping and she was more than ready to make amends.
"I can understand that," Stephanie said, "and I sincerely apologize for the upset that I caused you."
Julie shook her head. "You don't owe me an apology. It wasn't me you walked out on, though I did help pick up the pieces. I wanted to know whether I might have to do that again. To that end, I've been talking to the Uncles."
"Lester, Tank, and Bobby," Ranger murmured to Steph.
Tank and Bobby had seemed approachable from the start, and Steph had made peace with Lester. But this conversation made her feel as if there was something lurking on the horizon, waiting to catch her. Like seeing the lights of a police car coming up behind you on the road and worrying about getting pulled over and going to jail even though you weren't doing anything wrong, only to watch the cop blow by you on the way to who knew where. She hoped whatever Julie said next would be the equivalent of the cop passing by.
"I talked to them after your last visit and again this afternoon." As she spoke, Julie decanted the mixture into a cruet. "You should know that they all gave you glowing reviews. Told me all about the takedown and your awesome skills, too. So … welcome back."
Stephanie nearly sagged with relief. She was also intrigued by the strength of Julie's relationship with Ranger's cousin and closest friends. That was definitely something that hadn't existed before.
Alec sliced the quiche right in the pie tin. He put a plate under each tin so they could be handled by Ranger who was already out of his seat with his hands out. Julie transferred the potatoes to a serving dish and brought them to the table. Stephanie reached across the bar and grabbed the cruet and the salad bowl.
"You're lucky the guys already know you," Alec said to Stephanie as they loaded the table. "I had a contract to provide physical therapy on Rangeman premises for the employees as needed. I ran into Julie a few times. She was helping foster kittens with Tank. I chatted her up, asked her out. A couple of dates in, I arrived at Rangeman to meet Bobby and found myself in a special meeting with him, Tank, and Lester. And by meeting, I mean interrogation." Alec laughed, clearly unfazed by the experience. "They made sure that I knew who she was to Rangeman, and to them, and how important she was to all of them."
"Of course, that was nothing," he continued, "compared to having this guy–" he tipped his head to Ranger "– pop up out of nowhere one dark night, like something in a horror movie. Scared the pants off me. He had a similar line of questioning. But, look!" Alec held his arms out to the side. "Unscathed!"
From his grin, it seemed that Alec enjoyed telling the story. Julie rolled her eyes while Ranger looked smug. Stephanie laughed.
Once they were all seated, Julie looked at Steph and said brightly, "So, I hear we're otter twins!"
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