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“I already know it’s not his—”
“But if it were?”
She was quiet for a moment as she mulled it over, her eyes firmly fixed on the wall over my shoulder.
“I don’t want that kind of life for this baby.”
A life of luxury and opulence? Of never knowing hunger or stress?
But the look in her eyes made me think that she’d experienced far worse while money acted as a buffer.
“You gotta eat something.”
“I—Everything makes me a little sick.”
“Does anything sound good? Right now? Anything at all? We have a full kitchen. The guys could make you whatever you want.” I listed off a few things, all of them making her turn a pale green that made my own stomach churn. “French fries?” I asked, and she brightened up a bit. “Okay, French fries it is. You… stay here, and I’ll be right back. I gotta deal with a few things and then I’ll get you settled upstairs—”
“I have some money, Pete. I can stay in a hotel—”
“No,” I replied as I stood and walked to the door. “No, we’ll stay together. You’re not alone in this.”
With that, I left the room, and resisted the urge to lock the office.
I walked out into the busy bar and looked around, then walked between the bar and the entrance to kitchen which was buzzing with frantic activity.
“I need an order of fries. Extra salt. Just, uh, dry, no ketchup or anything.”
Joe, the old cook who worked the night shifts, gave me an odd look.
“Didn’t know you liked fries. Thought you only ate steak and vegetables—”
“Fries are vegetables,” I said under my breath, my mind reeling. “Just make them STAT, okay? Put them in a to-go box. I’m taking them upstairs.”
“You got it, boss.” He smirked, then flipped a few burger patties.
I walked out of the kitchen and into the bar. Wes turned to give me a look that I totally ignored as I went through one of the refrigerators for a can of ginger ale.
“What’re you looking for?” Jules asked hurriedly.
“Ginger ale—”
“It’s on the hose. We’re out of cans until tomorrow.”
“Damn,” I hissed. “I got some upstairs.”
“Is your lady friend still back there?”
“Jules,” I warned, giving her a sharp look. “Just get back to work.”
She only smiled and turned her back to me.
I walked back into the kitchen and found the only quiet corner near the door leading outside and leaned against the wall.
I pulled out my phone and called George.
“Where are you?” he asked, and in the background, I could hear the faint voices of Grant and Moira.
“I got a situation at the bar. I’m not gonna make it tonight but—I’ll come up to the house tomorrow like planned.”
