Don't Forget Me (2 page)

What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be giving this up. You know it won’t go anywhere.

Nando shook his head. Going cold turkey was going to be a lot harder than he’d thought. On the other hand, he couldn’t go on indefinitely moving from woman to woman like some deranged honey bee, could he? Time to start being selective. Time to learn how to pace himself.

Time to grow up.
More than time, if he were honest. He grimaced. That one hurt, largely because it was true.

Ahead of him, the woman slowed alongside Docia Toleffson’s bookstore. Slowed and then stopped, staring in the window. After a moment, she waved at someone inside. Nando let his own pace slow down so that he wouldn’t pass her just yet. He really wanted to see her face.

The door to the bookstore flew open, and Docia Toleffson herself stepped out, all six feet of her—maybe seven feet if you counted that pile of red hair on top of her head. She grinned at the stranger and then extended her arms to give her a hug. As she did, Nando got his first look at the woman’s face.

His heart stuttered and then promptly dropped to his shoes.
Oh god, of course. I really had this coming.

“Kit,” Docia was saying. “Kit Maldonado. Where have you been keeping yourself? Allie said you were coming back this week. Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

Kit said something back, but Nando didn’t hear it. He was too busy stepping backward into the doorway of another shop where he’d have some cover. The last thing he wanted right then was a conversation with Kit. Hell, he didn’t even want her to see him just yet. Not until he figured out what exactly he was going to say to her. And how he was going to say it. And what it would mean.

Kit Maldonado. Here. Back in Konigsburg.

For a moment he swore he could almost hear Esteban laughing. The force of karma had just sunk its teeth firmly into his ass.

Thank god for Docia Kent Toleffson.
Kit headed back up Spicewood toward her Aunt Allie’s house. Before Docia had come barreling out of her shop to give her a massive hug, she’d almost been ready to head back to San Antonio.

She hadn’t really meant to start her job search today. She was going to take the afternoon to get reacquainted with Konigsburg. But people she knew had told her about a couple of possibilities, and she’d decided to check them out. Finding the right job on her first afternoon in Konigsburg would be great luck. It would have given her self-confidence just the kind of boost it needed.

It was also impossible. The hotel in the restored cotton warehouse shop complex had already filled their assistant manager position, although they’d taken her résumé and told her they’d keep her mind if they had any more openings. Then she’d talked to Jess Toleffson about maybe taking over as manager at the Lone Oak B and B, a job Jess had once held, only to discover that the owner, Nedda Carmody, defined the manager as the person who cleaned the cabins and brought the breakfast rolls around from Sweet Thing rather than as someone who actually managed the place. And Mrs. Carmody’s payment consisted largely of free lodging, which Kit didn’t need, thanks to Aunt Allie.

It had been enough to make her wonder if her decision to strike out on her own hadn’t been a little hasty. She could still have her job at Antonio’s Fine Mexican Cuisine for another six weeks or so. And her father would have helped her find another job somewhere else when the restaurant closed. Or anyway, he would have tried. He knew everybody in the business, particularly the ones on the west side of town. But without her family around, San Antonio wouldn’t have felt the same.

And it was time to move on now anyway. Papi and Mami couldn’t prop her up forever. She had to make it on her own. Somehow.

Kit shook her head. San Antonio wasn’t a possibility, not really. Of course, since she was living with Aunt Allie, Konigsburg might not really qualify as being on her own, but it was still a step away from the house where she’d spent the first twenty-three years of her life. Plus, after fifteen years on the front lines, she was really tired of restaurant work. She had a degree in Management with a minor in Hospitality Services from UTSA, along with a very nice résumé, thanks to her internship at that hotel on the River Walk. Surely somebody in the hotel business would want to hire her. She’d just started looking, after all.

Still, she’d been feeling pretty low until she saw Docia. Docia Toleffson’s smile would warm anybody up, plus seeing her helped to remind Kit just why she’d decided to try Konigsburg for her first post-college job in the first place. After San Antonio, Konigsburg felt most like home. She had Aunt Allie, Aunt Allie’s fiancé, Steve Kleinschmidt, Docia and all the other Toleffsons. The town was full of friends.

And, of course, acquaintances who weren’t exactly in the
friend
category, like Nando Avrogado. Kit’s jaw tightened. Nando Avrogado was the reason she hadn’t looked for a job at Cedar Creek Winery, where she’d once been assistant manager of the tasting room. She liked Cedar Creek and she had a good relationship with Morgan Barrett Toleffson, who was the marketing director. But the Avrogado family were part owners. She’d see Esteban and his parents every day out there, and inevitably, she’d see Nando too. She wasn’t really ready to face that—not quite yet, anyway.

She was over him. So over him. Really. Over him.

For a moment, just a moment, she had a flash of memory. Dark brown eyes, a swing of dark hair across his forehead. His hands. Rough and gentle at the same time.

Over him. Damn it, she was.

She blew out a breath as she turned into Firewheel Lane and headed down the block toward Aunt Allie’s forties-style bungalow. Aunt Allie was only nine or ten years older than she was, more like a big sister than an aunt in a lot of ways. But Kit had a big sister already and she really preferred having an aunt.

Right now, Aunt Allie was sort of living with Steve, whom everybody called Wonder Dentist for reasons Kit had never understood. But Allie wasn’t completely living with Steve. She still had half her pots and pans and kitchen gadgets in her own kitchen. Considering that she was a professional chef and baker, one of Konigsburg’s most celebrated, leaving her All-Clad copper core skillet at her own house instead of taking it over to Steve’s had a lot of symbolic significance.

Kit started to pull out the key Allie had given her, then realized that the kitchen lights were on. Her aunt must be home after all.

She pushed open the front door. “Hey.”

Allie glanced up from her cup of coffee and her copy of the
Konigsburg Herald-Zeitung
. Across from her, Steve was finishing a piece of what looked like blackberry pie.

“Hey.” She smiled absently. “Any luck with the Cotton Palace?”

Kit shook her head. “They’re fully staffed. Said they’d keep me in mind, but I’m not holding my breath, not in this job market.”

Allie shrugged. “You’ll find something. You’ve got a good degree in Management, and lord knows you’ve got hospitality experience.”

Steve gave her a wry smile, pushing his horn-rims up his long nose. “Given the number of lame waiters I’ve run into lately, I’d say you’re just what this town needs.”

Kit sighed. “Right.” She flopped into a chair opposite her aunt. “I’d just as soon not go the waitress route, thank you very much.”

“Have you tried the hotels yet? I heard they’re redoing the Millsberger Building into some kind of ritzy bed and breakfast.” Steve shoveled in the last bite of his pie. Judging from his expression, he was considering licking the plate.

Kit shook her head. “I’ll start doing the hotel rounds tomorrow. I don’t think the Millsberger project is very far along, though. Some of their backers are supposedly getting cold feet.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Seems to be a persistent problem around this town.”

Allie glanced at him, then folded her paper in a flurry of rustling pages. “There’s some leftover lasagna in the refrigerator or you can make yourself a sandwich if you’re hungry.”

“Maybe I’ll head on home.” Steve pushed himself to his feet, then gave Allie a long look. “Care to join me?”

Allie shook her head, keeping her gaze on Kit. “Not tonight. There’s also some potato salad in the plastic bowl.”

“Okay.” Kit moved to the counter where she had a better view of the action. Or non-action in this case. She pulled a jar of mustard out of the refrigerator along with bread and cheese.

Steve sighed, still staring down at Allie. “All right then. See you tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

For a moment she held his hand, then she gave him a tight smile. “See you tomorrow.”

Kit watched him walk out the door and down the drive as she smeared mustard onto the seven-grain bread on the cutting board.
Something definitely not right there.
She turned back to Allie as she added slices of ham and American cheese.

Her aunt picked up Steve’s plate and carried it to the sink. “So what’s new in San Antonio?” she said in a voice that sounded overly bright. “How’s Tony? I haven’t talked to him for a month or so.”

Kit cut her sandwich into precise triangles. “Papi’s fine. Mami’s fine. Arturo is fine. Everything’s fine.”

A moment of silence stretched between them, then Allie cleared her throat. “Okay, that sounds a little like overstatement. Care to explain?”

Kit took a deep breath. “He’s selling the restaurant.”

Allie blinked. “Tony? His restaurant? How could he…” She put a hand to her throat, her voice suddenly tight. “He’s not sick, is he?”

“Papi? He’s fine. I mean, he’s tired but he’s not sick. So far as I know.”

“Then why?” Allie’s forehead furrowed. “Why would he sell the restaurant? It’s been the center of his life. I mean…besides Lara and you kids.”

Kit managed not to grimace. Sometimes Antonio’s Fine Mexican Cuisine had seemed to be the only center of her father’s life. “He got an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

“Who from?”

“The Romano Group.” Kit took a quick bit of her sandwich. “Sal Romano’s company. They want to expand into Mexican food.”

“And Tony sold?” Allie shook her head. “People have been trying to buy him out for years. What made Sal different?”

Kit shrugged. “Timing, I guess. This time Papi was ready.” She managed to keep her tone light.
Good for you, Catarina.

“But what are Tony and Lara going to do?”

“They’re moving to South Padre Island.” Kit ran her fork through the potato salad, pretending to take a bite. “They’ve got a condo north of town. Near Pat and Rodolfo and the grandkids.”

Allie’s jaw dropped. “They’re moving? Selling the house? Leaving you kids?”

Kit nodded, eyes on her plate. “Papi was afraid if he stayed around, he’d want to keep an eye on the restaurant. So he decided the best thing to do was just to leave.”

“What about you?” Her aunt narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you came up here, Kit?”

Kit shrugged. “Partly, I guess. I might have come up here anyway.”
But probably not, given everyone who lives here.

Allie leaned forward, putting her hand over Kit’s on the table. “I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. No matter why you came.”

“I am too.” Kit forced the corners of her mouth to turn up. “Really.”

And you’re sure you mean that, Catarina?

Kevin Brody took a long look down Main Street. Konigsburg. He hadn’t set foot here in years, and the last time he’d been moving too quickly to pay much attention. He wondered now if he’d realized that was the last time he’d see the place. Probably. At any rate he’d hoped it would be, since at the time, going back again would probably have meant being in handcuffs. All in all he hadn’t been that sorry to leave.

Now he studied the unchanging contours of the main drag. Still as wide as it had been when the first settlers had moved in. Streets meant for cattle drives and the occasional stage coach. Looked like the town had continued to use diagonal parking down most of Main. He would have argued against that if he’d been able to stick around. Made the place look like some Podunk Center. Plus it made for traffic problems at what passed for rush hour. They needed a parking garage or a municipal lot somewhere.

He started down the sidewalk past the German beer garden on the corner of Milam and Main. New shops were scattered all around the streets. Fewer T-shirt shops. More wine stores, boutiques, even a place that looked like it specialized in fancy stuff for dogs. He shook his head.
Tourists. Buy anything you put under their noses.

A couple of men lurched out of the Dew Drop Inn a few yards down from where he stood, and he fought the impulse to duck his head. He’d lost weight since his last time in town. His hair was grayer and longer. And he wore jeans and a T-shirt, clothes far removed from the ones he used to wear. Plus his face had never been particularly distinctive. People weren’t inclined to remember him. Even if the men had known him from before, they wouldn’t know him now.

Still, it was risky coming into town like this. He couldn’t afford to do it too often. He wasn’t inclined to take unnecessary risks this time around. Not after what had happened last time.