A Dash of Romance. Elizabeth Harbison

the yellow lid?”

      Rose hesitated for a moment before sighing and saying, “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

      She went to the purse and lifted it. It was heavier than she expected, and one of the first things she touched was a soft clean handkerchief. That was weird. Something didn’t compute, but it wasn’t until she heard the gasp several feet away that the pieces began to fall into place.

      “What are you doing with my purse?”

      Rose looked up to see Mrs. Winchester—the mayor’s mother—standing with one hand over her mouth and the other pointing at her like a gun.

      The noise of the party died down to silence. All eyes turned on Rose.

      Suddenly everything moved in slow motion. She turned to see Marta, apparently recovered from her nervous collapse, standing with one hand on her hip and a smug look on her face.

      “What’s going on?” Warren Harker appeared at the front of the crowd, looking from Mrs. Winchester to Rose. “What’s wrong?”

      “That—that girl was stealing from me!”

      “What?” Warren asked sharply, giving Rose a look that could have cut glass.

      “Oh, no, no, I wasn’t,” Rose stammered. “I was just—”

      “Put the purse down,” Warren said in a cold voice.

      Until that moment, she hadn’t even realized she was still holding it. She dropped it, as if it were a dead thing, and said, “Marta just asked me to get something from her purse and said it was this one.” She turned to Marta. “Please. Tell them.”

      “I cannot believe my eyes,” Marta said.

      Rose couldn’t believe her ears. “What?”

      When Marta spoke again, Rose knew she’d been set up. “Mr. Harker, I don’t know how to apologize enough for this. I don’t know what Rose was thinking.”

      “I was thinking it was your purse, just like you told me,” Rose said sharply.

      Marta shook her head and clicked her tongue against her teeth. “That’s enough, Rose. You’ve been caught.”

      It was clear that there was no point in trying to get Marta to tell the truth since she’d gone to considerable trouble to set up the lie.

      Instead, Rose turned back to Warren Harker. “Honestly, this is all just a big mistake.”

      Mrs. Winchester whimpered like a wounded puppy. “I can’t believe we’re not even safe from theft in a place like this.” Her son, the mayor, patted her arm and said to Warren, “This is unacceptable.”

      “Yes, it is,” Warren agreed, eyes on Rose. “I think you’d better go now.”

      “I will,” Rose said, reaching around to untie the apron she had just put back on. “But you have to understand, I was not stealing from Mrs. Winchester. I was just trying to get something for Marta from her purse, and she said—”

      “Stop!” Marta barked. “You’re a liar and I wouldn’t blame Mr. Harker for calling the police right now.”

      “I think you should,” Mrs. Winchester agreed, nodding quickly. “Send a message.”

      Rose’s jaw dropped. “This is a mistake!”

      “I think you’d better go,” Warren said quietly. He moved forward and, with a firm grip on her arm, led her to the front door.

      She wrenched her arm free. “You don’t need to manhandle me. It’s not like I want to stay.”

      He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head and opened the door. Behind him, she could see the condescending expressions on the faces of his guests. A bunch of wealthy people who were more comfortable believing the “help” would steal than in listening to the truth.

      For just a moment when she’d met him, Rose thought maybe Warren was different.

      What a foolish mistake that had turned out to be.

      One thing was for sure: it was a mistake she would never make again.

      Chapter Two

      “He sounds like a jerk,” Lily pronounced.

      “Big-time,” Rose agreed. “I don’t know if I should conclude never to trust rich guys, or good-looking guys, or both.”

      Rose and her sister were sprawled on the floor of their Brooklyn apartment, the newspaper Help Wanted section spread around them on the floor.

      “How about simply never trusting Warren Harker?” Lily suggested. “Rather than wiping out the entire male population with one fell swoop. Or at least, the entire desirable male population.”

      Rose sighed. “We’ll see. Oh, and add Marta Serragno to the list, too. I’m an equal opportunity mistruster.”

      Lily chuckled. “So she actually used the words, ‘You’ll never work in this town again’?”

      “That’s exactly what she said.” Rose circled another ad in the Help Wanted section of the paper. “And she’s as good as her word. So far I’ve been turned down by every major catering company in the entire city and two of three that are so minor you’d think she wouldn’t have ferreted them out.”

      “Well,” Lily said with a straight face, “when you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar, you’re going to have to expect repercussions, sis.”

      “Very funny, Lil. Very, very funny.”

      “Oh, I’m sorry.” Lily threw her arms around Rose and gave her a big squeeze. “I’m just trying to help you see the humor in this. Such as it is. I mean, it’s not like you’ll never work again.”

      “It’s starting to look like it.” An ad for a gas station attendant caught Rose’s eye and, after a moment of self-pity, she circled it, too.

      Lily looked over. “Oh, come on.”

      “Come on what?”

      “You can get a job in the food industry. Gerard said he’d hire you if Miguel didn’t already have the job.”

      Rose mustered a smile. “That’s nice of him to say, but since Miguel already does have the job, he doesn’t really have to put his money where his mouth is.” Gerard owned one of the exclusive boutique hotels where Lily worked as a concierge. He’d always been so kind to both of them. “Unless…Maybe he’d hire me as a maid?”

      “I’m sure he would, but you’d be miserable.”

      “I’m miserable now.”

      “No, I mean you’d be a miserable maid.” Lily smiled. “Look at your room. There’s hardly a place on the floor where you can see the carpet.”

      “This is no time to joke, Lily,” Rose said, but she smiled.

      “Okay, okay. Just trying to add a little levity. Now let’s think about this. What if you forget catering for the time being and try restaurants? Maybe even work as a waitress.”

      “I’d do that gladly. Unfortunately, I’ve already tried. Same story. Marta Serragno is nothing if not determined. Horrid woman. Half the town seems to be sucking up to her and the other half seems terrified. I can’t win.”

      “Wait a minute.” Lily tapped her finger against her chin. “I saw a sign up in one of these places…yes! It was the Cottage Diner. Over by Coney Island?”

      “Cottage Diner? I’ve never heard of it.”

      Lily shrugged. “It’s a greasy spoon, but a great location. Water view and all. The place itself looks like it’s been there since World War II. Maybe you could get in there as a waitress and then,