He couldn’t bring himself to hope, and it was a good thing, because he would have been sorely disappointed. He walked from the kitchen like a man going to the gallows, delivered the soda to the table waiting for it and then made his way to the long table in the middle of his section. He recognized their faces before he came to a stop at the end of the table.
Wallace, sitting on the right, was the captain of the squad that sat before him. His face was weathered, his eyes like chips of ice. Eight faces smirked at him, each one colder than the last. All of them with crew cuts and broad shoulders, they looked like military guys on leave. They all wore cargos, some khaki and some black or gray, with combat boots and athletic T-shirts. He couldn’t count on them not to be armed. A good paladin expected evil at every turn.
If they came here looking to cause trouble, there was little he could do to stop them. They might not be able to kill him in front of all these witnesses, but they could definitely get him fired if he wasn’t careful. His boss wouldn’t be okay with him fighting on the grounds, even if he could somehow justify it.
“Well?” Wallace spat. “Aren’t you going to—take our orders?” He sniggered as he said it, and the rest of them joined in.
“Yeah, this is what you wanted, right?” said Eric, sitting across from Wallace. He was lanky, with a cowlick on the back of his head and a prominent nose that sat above a weak jaw.
Julian swallowed hard. His heart thundered in his ears, and his hands were clammy. Adrenaline was flooding his system, but he couldn’t fightorflee. He had to stay. He had to remain calm. He had to take their fucking drink orders.
He fumbled for the notepad in his black apron and lifted it, gripping it tightly to hide the way his hands shook. “What can I get you to drink?”
One by one, they told him what they wanted. Some of them dallied, pretending to hem and haw like they just couldn’t decide if the lemon tea was a better choice than the soda. Then there was another ten minute debate over what appetizer to order—they wound up deciding against one entirely—and Julian could finally flee to the kitchen for the drinks.
He stumbled in through the swinging door and blew out the painful breath he’d been holding, doubling over beside the drink machine and hiding his face in his arms on the metal counter.
“Jules?” Tina asked, and a small hand touched the center of his back, rubbing soothing circles. “What’s wrong? Feeling sick? It’s a little warm out there. Do you need a break?”
He did. He really did, but his break was only twenty minutes. If someone else delivered their drinks and he returned later, he’d be accused of being a coward. They would know he’d been hiding from them.
“No,” he groaned, straightening. “I mean,yes, I’d love a break, but I can’t take one right now. And it’s not the heat.”
“What is it, then?” She frowned, tilting her head like it was written on his forehead. “Is it those guys? Do you know them?”
He opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out.
She looked thunderous. “That’s it, isn’t it? Are they being jerks to you? Do you want me to take over?”
He deflated. “No, it’s okay. If you take over, they’ll just get worse. They’ll think I’m a coward.”
She scoffed. “So what? You’re not a coward. You and I both know that. Those assholes don’t matter.”
His mouth quirked wanly. “You don’t know they’re assholes.”
“If they’ve got you looking as white as a sheet, they are. I watched a drunk idiot at the bar one night throw a drink in your face, and it didn’t have you as upset as you are right now. If you need a breather from those guys, I don’t mind taking over. No questions asked.”
He sighed. “Can you just help me deliver the drinks so I only have to make one trip? I’m not expecting a tip out of this, but hopefully I can at least keep it uneventful.”
“Absolutely.”
Tina carried one tray of drinks, and he carried another. While she doled them out, he took their orders. Wallace watched Tina circle the table like a hawk. If she noticed his icy attention, she didn’t spare him any in return. With a cheerful smile that only Julian knew was fake, she had no choice but to leave him when her job was done. She cast him one lingering look of solidarity, and then he had to focus on the men again.
“So, you needed to go for backup, huh? Does she fight all your battles for you now?” Wallace snickered. “No wonder you couldn’t hack it as one of us.”
“I’ll go put your orders in right away,” Julian said, vibrating with anger as he turned away.
Wallace’s hand snapped out, grabbing his wrist and dragging him back. “No, you don’t walk away until I say you can.”
“You’re a customer,” Julian said, “not my boss.”
“If you don’t want another fire to spring up at that hazard you call a house, I suggest you mind your tone with me, boy.”
Julian’s jaw tightened even as a shocking tidal wave of relief hit him. It was Wallace’s squad who was tormenting him, not Nicolas’s. His friends hadn’t turned on him.
He steeled his jaw. “Take your hand off me right now, Wallace.”
Wallace bared his teeth in an ugly sneer. “I think you need somebody to teach you some manners, traitor.”
