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“It’s my restaurant.”
“So? You have a full staff.”
“You’re right. Should I work less, too? How about we take some weekends off?”
“Heck no. Loretta said those are the best tipping days.”
“Mondays and Tuesdays?”
Eyes widening, she sputtered, “W-why are you asking me? You can take whatever days you want. I’m just saying I’d like to work some weekends.”
“How has work been? Are the customers treating you, okay?”
She tucked a wet strand behind her ear. “Yeah. It’s been good.”
“Good.”
We were quiet as I poured me a glass of water at the sink.
“I’m going to bed,” she announced.
“Oh, and Red?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let a man get so close to you like that next time. Knee him in the nuts. Claw at his eyes. I don’t care. Just don’t stand there. Matter of fact, walk the other way if he approaches.”
She snorted. “I’d be turning in circles if I had to walk the other way every time, I saw a man.”
She was right, but I didn’t like it.
“ButI understand what you’re saying, and you don’t have to worry. I don’t let anyone get that close.”
I smiled as she walked away, but then I frowned. She had let someone that close. She let me.
TWENTY-ONE
Eugene
“You have a Merry Christmas,” a customer said to me as she exited the restaurant.
“You, too,” I said.
I had been hearing a lot of season’s greetings since working at Homestyle. Of course, I would, since Christmas was a week away. I walked over to the booth and started to clean it off when I noticed the woman left me an eight-dollar tip. Since morning lunch, I’d made about one hundred and fifty dollars in tips. How was I supposed to leave work to shop when people were so generous that day?
I eyed the kitchen door. Hudson might forget. Pulling my phone out, I checked the time—five minutes after twelve. I bit my lip and groaned. If I wanted to shop, I probably should head out.
“Aren’t you supposed to be going somewhere?”
I jumped and turned toward the deep voice. “Sheesh. I didn’t hear you. How did you get so close without me noticing?”
Honestly, I had just checked the back for Hudson. For such a large man, he was good at sneaking up on people.
Hudson placed his hand on my waist, tugging me toward him suddenly. My side bumped into his. His palm heated my skin through my shirt as he guided me away from the table and toward the front entrance. “Go buy some nice things.”
Turning my head, I had to strain my neck to look up at him; we were so close. I sighed dramatically, which meant I was practically blowing on his neck. He glanced down, one corner of his mouth lifting, and I pulled away.
Whoops.
