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“Absolutely, sir. My name is Bernard Hughes and I’m the manager of this establishment. We will make this right, and do accept our profound apology.”
The man and his tablemate made to leave. Almost tripping over the waitress’s foot, the tall, angry businessman yelled, “Get out of my way, you idiot!” and pushed past her while she crouched down, attending to the mess at her feet.
E. J. wasn’t sure when he started to walk toward the disaster, or why he was going in that direction at all. But he was, and the men rushed past him without a glance, muttering something about a meeting.
E. J. approached the manager and the waitress. The polite facade and deference the manager had exuded seconds ago was gone. He reached down, grabbed the waitress by her arm and jerked her unceremoniously to her feet. It was then that he knew why he was heading in their direction.
He’d had enough of everything. The bad deal because of some leak at LynTech, and men who treated this woman as if she was in servitude to the lot of them; they all left a bad taste in his mouth. The taste got even worse when he heard the manager saying, “This is all your fault, you idiot! This is coming out of your pay. And if it happens again, that’s it! You are out of here.”
He saw the woman’s eyes, that incredible shade of aquamarine, the way they widened, and the fear in them. “I…I said I’m sorry,” she breathed. “He stood up right when I got here and the tray hit him, and—”
“You threw food all over him,” Hughes muttered. “And if he goes out of here and ruins our reputation when we’re just getting off the ground, well…” He let the words trail off, but the threat in them was very clear. “The suit cleaning or replacement will be your responsibility completely.”
She bit her lip but didn’t fight his hold on her or protest anymore. She just stood there, taking it, and that made E. J. all the more angry. He was right by them now, close enough to see a name tag on the woman’s dress that read Sara, and close enough to see the pressure the man was putting on her arm. High color dotted her cheeks and she swallowed hard before she whispered, “I am so sorry, sir.”
“You will be if you do anything like this again.”
“Hey, take it easy,” E. J. said, laying his hand on the man’s forearm.
Hughes jerked at the contact, looked at E. J., then seemed to relax when he saw a customer. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Let her go,” E. J. said, not raising his voice but holding the man’s gaze without wavering. “Whatever happened here, it was an accident. I saw that idiot stand up right in front of her, and as far as I could tell, he caused all of this.”
Hughes stared at E. J., mentally trying to figure out what in the hell was going on. He flicked his gaze over the casual clothes, the roughness on his unshaven jaw, then looked right at him. The deference he’d shown to the other men was there, but in a measured portion. He wasn’t going to offend a prospective customer by telling him to get lost, but he wasn’t about to just let E. J. run roughshod over him, either.
“Sir, this has nothing to do with you, no matter whose fault it was,” he said tightly. “We at the Lennox Cafе expect excellence from our employees, and if that is no longer the case, they are no longer employees.” He inclined his head to E. J. “I can assure you that your service will be impeccable.”
“Great, but let go of her,” E. J. said.
Red flushed through the man’s skin again all the way up to his bald head, but he let the waitress go. “Get this cleaned up, then come to my office,” he said to her before he looked back at E. J., clasping his hands in front of his chest to partially hide the red stain there. The man was furious about everything, but he was controlled. “Now, sir, the bar or the restaurant?” he asked tightly.
“The bar.”
“Yes, sir, this way,” Hughes said, and swept his hand in the direction of the bar.
E. J. glanced at the waitress. She had dropped to her haunches again and was busily scooping the ruined food back onto the tray. He leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”
She looked up, her hair tangling around her shoulders, and he was facing eyes that held jarring anger. Her mouth was tightly set, her skin flushed, and her hands, holding a broken soup bowl, were shaking. “Fine, just fine,” she muttered.
“Sir?” Hughes called to him.
E. J. had no idea why she was furious with him. It didn’t make sense. He killed the impulse to ask her why in the hell she was looking at him like that, and when she turned to get back to the mess at her feet, he walked away. He followed Hughes to the bar area, sat on one of the leather-covered stools and ordered a black coffee. While the bartender got it, E. J. looked in the mirrors that backed the bar. He spotted the waitress coming across the space with the trayful of broken china and ruined food.
He assumed she’d go right past him and into the kitchen area, but he was wrong about that, too. She came right toward him, and as he turned, she faced him with just two feet separating them. He could almost feel her heat as he inhaled a combination of scents, from coffee to flowers.
Then she uttered in a low, tight voice, “What do you think you were doing back there?”
It was then he realized how attractive she was—her full bottom lip and her silky blond hair. The high color in her complexion only emphasized a delicate beauty that owed nothing to makeup. “Trying to help,” he said truthfully, and found himself making an offer that shocked him. “Do you want me to have a talk with your boss about it?”
Now the color drained from her face. “Don’t you dare! You’ve done enough.” She looked back over her shoulder, then at him again. “Stay out of this. Please.”
He remembered her flinching when the man had grabbed her arm, but he knew when to give up. “Hey, it’s none of my business what you do or what that guy does to you.”
The color was coming back into her face. “Damn straight it isn’t,” she muttered, then turned and left him. He watched as the kitchen doors swung silently shut behind her. She was gone, and E. J. didn’t have a clue as to why he’d gotten involved at all.
Life was crazy, and a waitress with aquamarine eyes was obviously part of that craziness today. He lifted his coffee and took a drink of the rich brew. He didn’t need any more complications in his life, and if he was any judge of women, the waitress could be one huge complication.
Chapter Two
Sara Flynn stopped just inside the kitchen doors and was shaking so hard she had to put the tray down on the stainless steel counter before she dropped it. She tried to get her hair back in the knot, twisting it and pushing the pins to hold it, but she had a terrible time fastening it. As she pushed in the last pin, she took several deep breaths to try to steady herself.
“What’s going on out there?”
She turned to the chef, Marv, who was doing prep work on a side table, chopping carrots and celery so quickly that the actions were almost a blur. “An accident,” she said, and took the tray over to the sinks to dispose of the food and the broken dishes.
“Sounded like a bomb went off,” he said.
“A bomb would have been preferable,” she said, dropping the tray into the soapy water in the large sink, then turning to Marv.
The chef was fifty or so, a stocky man with dark eyes and a ruddy complexion. She’d never seen him out of his whites. He’d been kind to her, explaining things she didn’t know about the business, and covering for her when she’d needed it. He stopped chopping for a minute and frowned at her. “What was it?”
She shrugged. “I dropped that last order right on the customer,” she said, trying to make her mouth smile, but it was impossible.
Marv smiled for both of them. “Oh, boy, I wish I’d seen it, although I hate to see my work ruined.”
“You wouldn’t have wanted to see it,” she said. “Hughes is furious.”
“Threatened to fire you, didn’t he?”
She exhaled. “He sure did, and then some customer butted in, and…” She bit her lip, still remembering when she’d heard that deep voice and looked up to see the man standing over her. The way he’d reached out, taken Hughes by the arm—and the anger behind his action. Dark hazel eyes hadn’t backed down from Hughes and his fury, and she’d known if the stranger had said or done one more thing, Hughes would have fired her then and there to prove he could.
“A customer?” Marv said, cutting into her thoughts.
She looked through the small oval pane of glass in the kitchen door and saw the man. He was still at the bar, leaning forward, his elbows on the polished wood top, and staring into his coffee mug. “He’s still at the bar. He said something about talking to Hughes about what happened, but I hope he’s forgotten all about that.” She watched the stranger sit back, turn and look at a man coming into the restaurant.
She recognized the security man from next door. He crossed to the man at the bar, said something, then left. The stranger turned back to the bar, tossed off the rest of his drink, then stood. He was tall and lean, and had an edge to him. A dangerous edge, she thought, then rationalized she was feeling that because he’d darn near gotten her fired.
“A real knight in shining armor?” Marv asked.
She turned as the man put a bill on the bar. “No. He almost got me fired.” She ducked back when Hughes came toward the doors and stepped into the kitchen.
“Sara?” he said. “The tables aren’t ready for the lunch rush. Get them set, then come into my office.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her heart sinking. Quickly she went past him and out into the restaurant. Her luck was holding and all of it was bad. She barely missed walking right into the stranger, and she had the horrifying thought that he was following Hughes to have that talk with him.
“You,” she muttered, stepping back to look up at him.
His eyes were a rich hazel, framed by fine lines and set under dark brows. Direct, cutting eyes that made her uncomfortable and angered Hughes. “Me,” he murmured.
“What are you doing?” she asked, realizing that her whole body had tensed.
He studied her almost indolently for a long, nerve-racking moment, then tugged at the cuffs of his leather jacket. “I’m leaving.”
“Good,” she said with relief.
She regretted saying that as soon as the single word was out. He couldn’t possibly know how precarious her life was at the moment, or how much this job meant to her. But before she could soften her words, he actually smiled at her. The expression made her tense again, but for a myriad of reasons. His eyes narrowed and something in them softened as his lips curved gently upward. The whole effect gave her a flash of something almost endearing, before it was gone and he murmured, “I’m not used to pleasing a pretty lady simply by getting lost. But I’m doing it now.” He motioned to her hair. “Got some loose strands there,” he murmured, then he turned and left.
She watched the door close and hated herself for being so cold to him. He was a stranger, someone she’d never see again, but if he ever happened to come into the restaurant when she was here, she’d make sure that she at least apologized.
“Sara. You’re not on a break,” Hughes said from behind her.
She headed for the side alcove. She reached for a basket with fresh linen napkins in it and started folding them into individual roses. She worked quickly, soon filling a tray with the soft roses, then went out into the dining area and started setting them out with the dinnerware on the tables.
All she wanted to do was get through this day, finish her lunch shift and go and pick up her daughter, Hayley, at the sitter’s. They’d go back to the tiny house that was barely large enough for her and her three-year-old, and close the door on the world. It wasn’t theirs, but it was home…for now.
Hughes called to her across the empty restaurant. “Sara, my office, now.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and put down the last napkin.
She brushed her hands on her apron, then took a breath and headed for his office in the short hallway just off the rest rooms. When she stepped into the small space lined with boxes and filing cabinets and anchored by a large desk in the middle, Hughes was changing his soiled shirt. “Close the door.”
She swung it shut, and when he didn’t motion for her to sit, she stood with clasped hands and tried to head off a disaster. “Sir, I’m so sorry about the accident and it really won’t happen again.”
“Do you know who that man was you poured food on?” he asked as he pushed his arms into the shirt-sleeves.
She’d seen him in the restaurant before, but she didn’t know anything about him except he liked his coffee black and his salads dry. “No, sir.”
He buttoned the shirt quickly. “For your information, Mr. Wise is one of the partners in the law firm of Broad, Simpson and Wise. One of the main tenants in this building, occupying two floors, six and seven…the entire floors.”
She tried to pretend to be as impressed as he seemed to be. “I had no idea he was that important.”
“All of our customers are important,” he said as he tucked in his shirt, then reached for his jacket from the back of his chair. “I just hope that I am able to make this right with him and his partners. But one more mistake like that and you are not going to be working here anymore.”
If she could have handed him her job right then, she would have, but she didn’t have that option. Since she and Hayley had moved to Houston two months ago, this was the only job she’d been able to find that had the right hours for her and gave her decent wages and tips. She was away from Hayley too much, but at least she had the second half of the day with her and she was there when she went to bed. “It won’t happen again, sir.”
He frowned at her as he retied his tie, and she knew he wasn’t finished. “And you can tell that boyfriend of yours to keep out of your business. If he pulls something like that again, you’ll both be out of here.”
“My boyfriend?”
He tugged sharply at the cuffs of his jacket. “The man who so rudely interrupted us.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” she said quickly. “I don’t even know who he is. I’ve never seen him before.”
Hughes studied her, then smoothed his tie. “Just get back to work and remember that our customers expect excellent service.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed.
She went out of the office and returned to folding the napkins. The bartender, Leo, called out to her. “Hey, Sara?”
She turned. “What?”
“That guy who was just here? The one talking to you and Hughes over there?” He motioned to where the accident had happened.
Not him, too. “What about him?”
He held up two twenty-dollar bills. “He paid for his drink with these, then left. I hardly think he was so impressed with me that he left me more than a thirty-five-dollar tip. Can you tell him I’ve got his change whenever he wants to come and get it?”
“No, I don’t know who he is.”
“Oh, I thought you and he…” He shrugged and folded the bills, tucking them in his vest pocket. “I’ll hold on to them and see if he comes back.” The phone behind the bar rang, and as Leo answered it, Sara turned to go and check her drawer to make sure it was even before the lunch rush started. But she’d barely turned when Leo called out to her again. “Sara?”
She looked back at him. “What?”
He was holding the cordless phone out to her as he looked around. Then he whispered when she crossed to take the phone, “Hughes is gone. It’s for you.”
She felt her stomach sink. Only one person would be calling her—the baby-sitter. She took the phone and spoke quickly into it. “Marg?” she asked.
“Yes, hello, Sara. I’m sorry to be calling at work, but—”
“Marg, what happened? Is Hayley all right?” Her hand was holding the phone so tightly it was aching. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no, no, Hayley is just fine. She’s napping right now, as a matter of fact. But I just found out something and wanted you to know right away.” She hesitated, then said, “I won’t be able to watch Hayley after this week.”
Now her heart sank for a different reason. It had taken her forever to find someone to care for Hayley, someone she trusted and she felt safe leaving her child with. “For how long?”
“Actually, I’m going back to school. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, and the opportunity just came up. I can’t pass it up,” she said. “I’m sorry. I know this is an inconvenience for you, but I have a few recommendations for you, other sitters. I just wanted you to know right away.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, but thought it was more than an “inconvenience” for her. Another sitter? “I’ll be by for Hayley later and you can give me the names?”
“Absolutely,” Marg said brightly.
She hung up, then turned and handed the phone back to Leo. “Thanks.”
“Your little girl okay?” he asked, surprising her by asking since she’d never spoken to him about Hayley.
“She’s…she’s fine,” she said. It’s just me, she wanted to add, but didn’t. She wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity. She hadn’t been fired. Hayley was okay. Things would work out.
“Customer,” Leo said, nodding toward the door.
For some reason she expected the stranger to be coming back, hoping it was, so that she could apologize. But when she turned there was no lean man in a leather jacket with a smile that seemed to see humor where none existed. Instead, she saw a lady whom she’d met the first day at work, Mary Garner, who helped run the day-care center in the LynTech building next door. Mary came in every day at this time to have a cup of tea and nibble on shortbread biscuits. The slender, gray-haired lady smiled when she spotted Sara.
“Hello, there,” Mary said brightly.
The lady was in her sixties, with a gentle, soft voice. She wore simple dresses in grays or navies, and always sensible shoes. “Good morning,” Sara said, and led her to her usual table, one off to the side by the windows. “The usual?” she asked as Mary settled into the high-backed leather chair.
“Yes, thanks,” Mary said, then touched Sara’s hand before she could leave to get the tea and biscuits. “Is everything all right? Your little one’s okay, isn’t she?”
Mary was the only customer Sara ever talked to for any length of time, and for some reason, she was the only person she’d told about her situation. “Hayley is just fine, thank you.”
