Page 11 of Deserving Cora
Her eyes closed as she struggled to process what was happening.No onehad believed her. Not the cops, not Lara’s family, not their co-workers. They all told her she was jealous, or overreacting, or just plain wrong. But she knew better.
The extremely short email Lara had sent to Human Resources with her request for a leave of absence was shady as hell, but no one other than her seemed to even think twice about it. Lara wouldn’t just up and leave without talking to her first. Cora knew that without a doubt.
And this man, this stranger, believed her without even really hearing what had happened.
“Eat,” Pipe said again, a little gentler.
Cora’s eyes opened and she looked down at the turkey club sandwich she’d ordered. Suddenly, she was ravenous. She reached for the ketchup bottle on the table and smothered her sandwich in the stuff. She also poured it all over her French fries.
Looking up, she caught Pipe smiling at her. The change it made in his countenance was astounding. It was like a completely different man was sitting across from her.
“I take it you like ketchup,” he drawled.
“I don’t like it, I love it,” she told him. “It makes everything taste better. When I was little and forced to eat food I didn’t like, putting ketchup on it made it palatable. When I was on my own, and short on cash, I could put this stuff on just about anything and it somehow made me feel fuller.”
He frowned at that, but Cora simply smiled. “It’s okay, Pipe. Really. I survived. A lot of people have been way worse off than me. And ketchup is honestly the world’s perfect condiment.”
He didn’t look so sure, but picked up the hamburger he’d ordered, one without any sauce or condiment on it whatsoever—heathen—and took a large bite.
They ate in companionable silence. When she was nearly finished with her meal, Cora felt herself smiling. “What do you think they would’ve served at that fancy restaurant? I mean, if I’d won and we were there now?”
In response, Pipe put down his hamburger and reached for his phone. Cora frowned in confusion. He typed for a moment before his lips quirked upward. “According to their website, ‘carpaccio of herb-crusted elysian fields baby lamb loin with Caesar salad ice cream, or pecan-crusted, mushroom-stuffed loin roulade with mustard and drunken prunes.’”
Cora couldn’t stop her nose from wrinkling. “Do you know what any of that is?”
“Nope,” Pipe said breezily.
“What the hell is Caesar salad ice cream? And drunk or not, prunes are not my idea of a good meal.”
This time, he chuckled. “Agreed.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m much happier with my burger, and I don’t think putting ketchup on the prunes would help them sober up any.”
Cora giggled. As soon as the sound left her mouth, she felt guilty. Here she was having a wonderful time, eating a great sandwich, when she had no idea what Lara was going through.
“Don’t,” Pipe said, his brows drawing down.
“I can’t help it. I’m so worried about her.”
Pipe pushed his plate to the side and reached for her hand. Cora let him take it. His thumb brushed over the skin on the back as he spoke.
“I don’t know your friend, but to have inspired such loyalty in you, I know she has to be an amazing person. And she’s tougher than you’re giving her credit for.”
“You don’t know her. She’s…not like me,” Cora finished somewhat lamely. “I’m not afraid to say what I’m thinking. She’s nice. Sweet. I told you before that she didn’t date in high school, but even after that, she didn’t go out much, despite wanting desperately to find her Prince Charming. She always sees the best in people, and they frequently take advantage of her. She doesn’t like to rock the boat, in a relationship or in her professional life. I think that’s how Ridge hooked her. He pretended to be a gentleman. But he’s not. I mean, from what I’ve seen, that is.”
Pipe stared at her for a long moment before reaching for his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and threw a couple of twenty-dollar bills on the table. Then, without a word, he stood and reached for Cora’s elbow.
She was too surprised to resist when he pulled her to her feet. He grabbed her bag and put it over his shoulder. With his hand still under her elbow, he walked to the door. When they were on the sidewalk, he turned right, back the way they came.
“Pipe?” Cora asked. “Where are we going? The Metro is the other way.”
“My hotel,” he said shortly.
Cora stopped in her tracks, surprising Pipe enough that his hand slipped from her arm. “I already told you that I’m not sleeping with you,” she growled. Disappointment swam in her belly. Had she really been so wrong about this man?
Pipe ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “I’m not good at this stuff, Cora.”
“What stuff?” she asked, confused.
“Planning. Figuring shite out. I’m the muscle. I’m sent in to do the dirty work. My mates are better at the pre-mission details. I don’t know what you’re going to tell me about your friend, but my instincts tell me that it would be better if Owl was there…the guy who came to DC with me.”
