CHAPTER ONE
“Hello, officers. What’ll it be today?” asked Allie, searching for a pen so she could take down their order. She usually tucked it behind her ear but came up empty. Her apron pocket was bare. She patted her hair—nope.
“It’s in your… ahem.” The cop on the right pointed to her chest as he grinned.
Allie’s cheeks flamed as she snatched the pen from between two buttons. It wasn’t like she put it there to draw attention to her… her… you knows.
Especially not the attention of this guy!
The cop was tall and lanky with hands the size of dinner plates and ears to match. He had that predatory feel of a guy who enjoyed perusing the meat market. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
“No problem.” He grinned at his partner. “And you thought this would be a boring lunch.”
“It’s never boring with you around, George,” replied his partner, a middle aged, pot-bellied guy with a shiny head and a pair of teddy bear eyes. Leaning his forearms on the table, he pointed to George. “This guy’s always got a story. Some of the things he’s seen working nights would make your toenails curl.”
“Sounds fascinating.” Allie monotone. “If you’re not ready, I can come back.”
“A meatball sandwich,” said George with a note of desperation. Desperate for food or desperate to keep her around so he could stare at her chest a little longer? Allie raised her eyebrows. “Really?” “Yep. I haven’t had a good meatball sandwich in years.”
“Well, you’re not about to get one now.” She jotted the information down and turned to the other cop. “And for you?”
“I think I’ll stick to a burger and fries, no onions. And can we get a couple coffees?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back with those.” The lunch rush hadn’t come through yet so Allie entered their order and took their coffee back right away.
“Thanks, sugar.” George winked.
Allie crossed her arms. The last man to call hersugarhad used her good name to create a very bad credit score. Reed, herex-husband—thank the heavens for thatex—said all the right things and did all the wrong ones. No one had the right to call hersugar. “I’m not your sugar so you can just—”
“Whoa there—I was asking for sugar. For my coffee.” George held up his cup, his eyes wide with innocence.
“Oh.” Allie blinked wondering if she’d misread George from the start.There goes my tip.“Sorry, I’ve had a really bad day and—” “I don’t need your life story, just the sugar.” George’s flirtatious behavior had disappeared the moment she glared daggers. If that was the worst thing that came from her little outburst she’d get off lucky. Since when had luck ever been on her side?
“Allie,” called the café owner, William from his perch behind the register. “Get your behind over here.”
Gritting her teeth, Allie silently reviewed the reasons she needed this job. The Star Café always had a table open, usuallyone of Allie’s, but the locals liked the old-timie vinyl booths and spinning stools at the counter. A cup of coffee was cheep, the food was good and greasy, and the gravy was pretty darn good. Black and white checkered tiles covered the floor and faded posters of Elvis Presley, Tanya Tucker, Stevie Wonder, and Hank Williams, smiled from behind shiny chrome and glass frames. The job wasn’t much, but for a woman who barely had a high school diploma and carried a large amount of debt, it was enough. Right now, enough was good enough to get her through. “Yes?”
“Stop harassing the customers.” He waved his hand, indicating the empty booths. “I’d like to have a few of them come back once in a while.”Then you should stop charging an extra two dollars for gravy on grits.“I’ll work that.” Allie forced her lips apart in an attempt at a smile. “See that you do.” He shuffled a couple of papers.
Out of instinct, Allie didn’t move. Her dad had hated it when she left before he’d gotten every last mean thought off his mind. Since they were
the only thoughts he had, she was grateful he wasn’t that smart of a man. William had more going on upstairs but his focus was profits. “Look at this ticket, Allie. What does it say?” he asked.
She didn’t have to lean in or even squint to know what the ticket was for. “Two bowls of soup and a half sandwich.”
“Seventeen dollars’ worth of food walked out of here without paying and it’s coming out of your paycheck, dearie.”
Allie felt the deduction as if it had come from her spleen. “That’s not fair—it wasn’t my fault they snuck out.”
Will smacked his palm on the counter. “Your ticket—your fault.” Will smacked his palm on the counter.
She narrowed her eyes. There was no use arguing with him. Sure, taking the money out of her pay was illegal wage deductionbut she wasn’t in a position to put up a fight. Allie turned on her heel to walk away with her chin up.
William’s voice rattled across the café following her like a bad stench. “Bring me a fresh coffee, this one’s gone cold.”
“Like his heart,” Allie murmured to Selina, the other waitress on duty. Selina waved to let William know she’d heard him and then poured his coffee. “Allow me.” Her eyes twinkled as she deftly switched the decaf with regular. “Lethimstay up at night. I’ll be sleeping like a baby.” Allie chuckled.
She picked up the cops’ order and headed to their table. “Here you go fellas. I hope you enjoy your meatball sandwich.” She set the plate down in front of George just as his phone beeped.
