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“Look, I didn’t notice any tattoos or rings,” Trey answered, growing even more annoyed. His expression turned into a scowl. “Why, Ms. Logan? Is this some kind of relationship drama? An ex-boyfriend stalking you at work or something, because I swear I’ve had more than enough of that dumb bullshit with Cara and her—”
“No, no,” I cut him off. “No ex-boyfriend. Nothing like that.”
My boss eyed me for a long moment, trying to determine whether or not I was lying. Apparently I passed his test.
“The guy had dark hair and he barely spoke English,” he went on. “And when he did speak, it was broken English.”
I couldn’t hide my confusion. “Oh.”
“He came here asking when you worked, what shifts you took. What time you would get in, and when you might leave. That sort of thing.”
My throat tightened a bit. I couldn’t help but stiffen.
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him to fuck off of course,” Trey grumbled. “No one who reallyknowsyou shows up out of the blue asking questions like that.”
“T—That’s right,” I agreed. “That’s good.”
“But he was a persistent bastard, and I was afraid he’d come back to bother me some more,” he went on. “So I told him youusedto work here but I fired your sorry ass weeks ago.”
Relief flooded in all at once. “Even better.”
“Which I will,” he pointed with a grubby finger. “If you don’t keep that fridge stocked with halibut.” His face grew even grumpier — if that were even possible — as he threw up his arms. “How the fuck do you run out of halibut?Everybodyloves halibut.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Apparently.”
I hadn’t told my boss I was pregnant yet, but eventually I’d have to. I didn’t know whether he’d go easier on me, or ride my ass even harder. To be honest, both options sucked. Taking extra shit on top of the usual shit — while standing on swollen feet all day — seemed like it would be a fresh new level of hell. Yet the last thing I wanted was special treatment, especially from someone like Trey.
Eventually he stormed off to go yell at the guy running the salad prep area, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Someone was looking for me. Someone I apparently didn’t know.
But who?
A stranger who didn’t speak English.
A stranger who camehere.
Trey’s booming voice was still reverberating off the tiled walls of the prep-area as I pulled out my phone. A moment later, I’d removed and unfolded the piece of paper that had been tucked into my case for the better part of the last week.
The address wasn’t local; in fact, it was over an hour north of the city. Even if I left the restaurant on time tonight, it would be nearly midnight by the time I got there.
But I was a chef, and midnight meant very little to me.
And I was willing to bet it meant even less to them.
Nine
JOSHUA
“And I’m telling you again,” Evan said, his voice gathering frustration, “when it comes to Ripley we can’t be sure of fucking anything.”
Again he took the shot, and again he rushed it. I watched as his stick clacked hard and skidded sideways, sending the cue ball spinning off helplessly toward the middle of the table.
“You really suck at this,” I grinned. “Always have.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, seriously,” I chided him. “A shot like that doesn’t just happen. You have to reallytryto make a—”
