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But as we turn into Jake’s parking lot, suddenly it’s like déjà vu all over again. Miss Crazy Towns is back. Gasping, stuttering, sputtering. Flailing.
“What the—! Where’s my car?”
Glancing across the utterly empty lot, I will not verbalize the obvious:not here.
Seriously? What kind of lousy establishment tows a car before ten a.m.?
Great. The day suddenly got more complicated, and I’m thinking this is the last thing Lise needs. The more I’m around her, the more she strikes me as…fragile. Teetering on the brink, though why, I haven’t a clue.
I park the truck, and before I can get my door open, she has charged the establishment. It’s early yet, but the door is unlocked and swings open.
She’s a big girl and all, but...
I follow her into the dimly lit restaurant and join her at the bar where she’s stomping her foot and hollering for someone to come speak to her. Surprisingly, it’s Mr. Hole-In-the-Ear who emerges from the kitchen, dragging a dish towel across his hands. As soon as his glance sweeps us, the corners of his lips begin to spasm. The little puke.
I fold my arms across my chest and paint on my best law enforcement affect.
The spasms become a full-on smirk.
Oh well.
“You towed my car!” Annalise accuses, her cute little chin jutting.
“Oh, was that yours?” the guy rejoins, but I’m not buying it. For reasons I can only guess at, he’s enjoying this, and, given the fact that we practically closed the place down last night, he likely knew exactly to whom the vehicle in question belonged.
“How dare you!” she shouts, and, so help me, the lady is crazy beautiful when she’s angry.
The dude shrugs. “Sorry. Parking is for patrons only. Says so on the sign.”
And there she goes with the foot stomping again. “But I am a patron!”
“Not this morning you weren’t. Parking’s tight around here.”
“You don’t open for another hour!”
That bony shoulder lifts. “Guess you shouldn’t have run off and left it.” Condescension drips from his tone.
Annalise reverts to stuttering, too ginned up at having to pay for a tow, I guess—I hope—to notice the man’s belittling and, frankly, disrespectful, mien. He’s looking at her like she’s gum on the bottom of his black-chained boot, looking at her in a way that makes me want to throw a punch on his smug, self-righteous little mouth.
“I’ve been coming here for years. I’m probably your most loyal customer!”
“Sorry. Rules apply to everyone. Maybe next time you’ll take it to the motel with you.”
And that’s.Enough. I step fully up to the counter. “Watch your mouth, twerp.” I grind the words through my molars, barely containing a far worse appellation.
His eyes rake over Annalise before he glances to me. “Guess she made last night worth your while, man.”
Next to me, Annalise is agape, speechless, but I think I see wetness pooling around her eyes. I lean in. Set my face. “Apologize.”
I’ll give him credit for not being quite the wuss I thought when he bows up instead of complying.
Unacceptable.
I snatch myself a collar-full of black button-down and pull him halfway across the bar. He’s taller, but I’m stronger. Way stronger. I wouldn’t be surprised if his feet were dangling midair. I get in his lousy pimpled face that’s covered by the facial hair of the average thirteen-year-old and employ the same tone I use on the job.“Apologize.”
His eyes practically pop from his head, something I find thoroughly satisfying, and the high-pitched squeak of his voice is icing on the cake. “I’m sorry.”
I tilt my head.“To her.”
