I’m guessing Martha is his wife. And the fact that she’s more concerned over customers seeing me passed out on the floor versus my actual well-being is telling.
I don’t think she’s thrilled to find me like this.
I carefully crack open my eyes to find two faces hovered above me. The deli owner’s—Arthur. And a woman with dyed black hair and highly arched, matching black eyebrows drawn above her eyes. She leans back when our gazes meet, giving me breathing room.
“You okay, hon?” Her voice is gentle, and maybe I judged her too harshly.
It actually wouldn’t be good for business, to have a strange woman sprawled across the floor while people tried to order their sandwiches.
When I realize they’re waiting for my answer, I shrug one shoulder. “My head hurts.”
“You hit the floor pretty hard,” Arthur says. “You want help sitting up?”
I nod and he takes my hand, his weathered fingers curling around mine as he gently tugs me into the sitting position. I move slowly, reaching behind me to touch at my head, rubbing the spot where I feel a bump. “How long have I been out?”
“Only a couple of minutes, tops,” Martha says, her gaze going to Arthur’s. “Tell her what you did.”
My gaze switches between the both of them, curious. “What did you do, Arthur?”
He smiles at me. “Martha walked in right when you dropped and I went to the phone and hit the redial button.”
“Multiple times,” Martha adds.
“And the man you tried to call answered.”
Relief floods me and I almost slump back onto the floor again. “What did you tell him?”
“That I had a pretty blonde woman in a black sweat outfit passed out on my deli floor.” His smile is small. “He cursed up a storm.”
“He’s my brother,” I admit, thinking that sounds just like Finn. They all curse when they’re mad. Happy. Whatever. “His number is the only one I could remember.”
“He said they would be here right away, once I gave them my address,” Arthur says.
They.I wonder if he’s with Perry. Does my husband even care that I went missing? He was supposed to come home early so I could make him ‘dinner,’ and instead I’m in a deli in Bishop’s Landing and oh my God…
“Have you ever seen a dark-haired man with an Irish accent come in here?” I ask Arthur.
“No, not that I can recall.” He sends a look to his wife, and I’m sure he must think I’m out of it for asking that. “Come on. Let’s get you on your feet.”
They stand on either side of me and haul me up to my feet and the moment I don’t need them holding me upright, Martha takes off toward the back.
“Getting you some aspirin, young lady! For that knockin’ your noggin took!” She pushes her way through the door that separates the deli from the actual kitchen, disappearing from view.
“Did my brother say when he would be here?” I ask Arthur, hating how anxious I suddenly feel. My gaze keeps drifting toward the deli entrance, worried that Seamus could walk in at any moment. He could easily overtake Arthur. And if he came with his gun, forget it.
“He said he was on his way.” Arthur takes a step closer, his voice lowering. “Are you okay? Is someone trying to—harm you?”
I stare into his kind brown eyes, so grateful I chose the deli over the convenience store across the street. “Can I hide out in the back until my brother shows up?”
“Of course you can.” I love that Arthur doesn’t ask me any questions. Just automatically says yes. “And you can eat your sandwich back there too.”
I’m so overwhelmed with gratitude I wrap him up in a bear hug, startling him. “Thank you,” I say, my voice muffled against his shoulder. “For helping me.”
He gives me a tentative pat on the back. “Come on. Let’s get you that sandwich.”
Chapter Six
Perry