Page 18 of Shadow Justice

“Is everything okay?”

Holly hated that she had to lie. “It will be. I’m just adjusting to the idea of another person in my kitchen, but we definitely can use the help.”

Reid turned from the tablet with a smile that softened his face. “That’s Blue,” he said.

On the screen, Sweet Blue snored on, oblivious to them. Holly felt her eyebrows lift. “You know my dog?”

“I met him at Roni’s. He’s smart. He tried to open the treat cabinet.”

Maya laughed. “Blue tries to open every treat cabinet at least once a week.”

Reid’s smile lingered on the screen. “Roni said he’s part cattle dog, part terrier, part criminal mastermind.”

The easy familiarity between Reid and Blue, Reid and Roni, Reid and the corners of Holly’s life he’d somehow reached while she wasn’t looking made her want to scream.

Her heart, traitorous organ that it was, still beat like a bird against a cage, every time his voice ripped over her skin.

Maya tied on her apron and headed toward the back. “I’ll start the soup warmer and prep sandwiches.”

“Thank you,” Holly said. “Reid, come with me.”

His gaze left the tablet. “Are you going to teach me the espresso machine?”

“Absolutely not. I’m giving you the fastest tour in the history of food service.”

She took him through the essentials, keeping her voice brisk. Register. Pickup counter. Coffee station. Pastry case. Storage shelves. Kitchen. Office. Restrooms. Back exit. Stairwell with two doors, one which led to her apartment and the other to the alley behind the shop. She didn’t linger anywhere, partly because lunch was coming and partly because having Reid trail her through the building where she lived and worked made it feel too small.

When they reached the short hallway near the office, out of Maya’s earshot, Holly stopped. “You can hang out in the back room or the office during lunch.”

“I need to be out front.”

“You need to stay out of the way.”

“I can do both.”

“How? You don’t know how to work here.”

“I don’t need to know how to pull shots to clear tables, restock lids, wipe counters, or watch who comes in.”

Holly inhaled through her nose and reminded herself that throwing him into the alley would be both unprofessional and unwise. “Fine. Start with the easy things. Bus tables, restock napkins, sleeves, lids, and stirrers. If a customer asks you a question, you find me or Maya.”

“Understood.”

“You don’t take orders unless I tell you, and you don’t touch the espresso machine.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t hover.”

His eyes met hers. “I won’t hover.”

That should’ve been reassuring. It wasn’t. Reid had always been too good at making promises.

The lunch rush began with three courthouse clerks, two teachers, a pair of retirees splitting soup and grilled cheese, and a damp cyclist who ordered enough food for a man who’d either skipped breakfast or intended to hibernate.

Holly slid into the familiar rhythm gratefully, letting orders, receipts, cups, and voices occupy the spaces in her mind where fear kept trying to spread.

Reid did exactly what she needed. He cleared tables without being asked. He learned where the clean mugs went after seeing Maya unload one tray. He restocked napkins before the holders emptied.