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Malcolm wished he could say no. “Yeah, if you can,” he admitted, grabbing the customers’ food. “Goddamn ribs night.”
“Ka-ching, my friend,” Reggie reminded him with a laugh.
“Yeah, right,” Malcolm muttered, pausing. “Hey, did you ask your cousins yet?”
Reggie nodded even as he turned to plate some more ribs. “One is interested, as long as you keep that man whore in check.”
“Hey!” Blake called from behind the bar, where he was pulling a beer for a customer. He hadn’t wanted Katie on her feet after a full day of work, so he had offered to fill in instead. It was no surprise he sucked at it and had to be delegated to running the taps. “I heard that.”
“Like you can deny it,” Malcolm said, returning to his rounds. He, and sometimes Reggie, kept the tables moving, and Malcolm also mixed any drinks besides the basic beer and wine and rang up the bills. It was doable but hectic. Even with all the movement, he caught a customer staring at him from one of the tables.
The man was older than Malcolm, with gray at his temples and peppered throughout his neatly combed hair. He wore a suit, but not one as slick as Trenton and Nicholas, Katie’s boss, preferred. The guy sipped at his drink, ordered the ribs, then ordered another drink even though he didn’t finish the first one and ate none of the ribs. Malcolm had dropped off the check as a hint, but the man still sat there, ignoring it.
Malcolm’s gut told him who it was, and there were only a couple of ways that the guy could have found him already. He didn’t like either way or the implications behind them. The only thing keeping his temper down was that the guy was at the tavern and not over at his house hassling Jami. At least, not at the moment.
Most of the tables had cleared out after the dinner rush. Blake eyed Malcolm when he approached the man’s table again. “You out of money or something?” Malcolm asked, even though he knew that wasn’t the case.
“Ah, I kept this table occupied too long, didn’t I?” The man opened his wallet and dropped a couple of hundreds on the ticket. “That should cover the lost business.” He looked around the tavern, not hiding his sneer. “Your restaurant seems very popular.”
Malcolm took the money, figuring what the hell. “It seems you’re trying to get in my pants, what with the sweet talk and the hefty tip.” He winked at the suit, his smile growing as red climbed up the man’s neck.
“Of course not!” The man sputtered. “I simply thought we should meet. I’m Andrew Raneer.”
Malcolm nodded. “I figured.”
Raneer’s back straightened. “Ah, then that must mean Jami mentioned me.” The shit-eating grin he wore grated on Malcolm’s nerves.
He forced a shrug. “Well, Jami mentioned you when the cops asked her about the fire.” If Malcolm hadn’t been watching so closely, he would have missed the flinch the man barely controlled. Yeah, this prick was fishy as hell.
“Such a terrible thing,” Raneer said, shaking his head. “My sweet Jami lost everything.”
“Not everything. She’s still got me.” Malcolm smiled as the suit glared at the insinuation. Jami would probably be pissed at him, but he’d take it. He’d seen Raneer’s type before.
“How did you meet Jami?” Raneer asked.
Malcolm folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”
Raneer stood, and Malcolm was annoyed that the man matched him in height. “With her father gone, I’m the only one left to watch out for her.”
Malcolm raised his eyebrow. “So, what, you see yourself as another father figure?” He let his smirk show the man he already knew that was bullshit.
Raneer flushed. “No, not exactly.”
“And doesn’t Jami have a sister? So you’re not the ‘only one.’”
Raneer’s tension eased. “I see Jami hasn’t opened up to you much for you to say that.”
Malcolm was already sick of the guy. “Is there a reason you’re here?”
“Just to confirm my fears.” Raneer’s gaze swept over Malcolm, his lip curling. “I can see I was right about you.”
“Think what you want.” Malcolm had gotten a lot of those looks in his life. It had been a long time since he’d cared what anyone thought of him. “Look, I’m sure you had a good thing going, but Jami is with me right now.”
“A fact that only proves her judgment has been impaired by grief,” Raneer said.
“I doubt she’d agree with you. In fact, if Jami wanted you to meet me, she would have introduced us herself.” Malcolm folded his arms again, since the man hadn’t done anything that would allow him to hit him like he wanted to. “So get out of my bar.”
“Of course, Mr. Griffin.” Raneer’s smile was back to smug, making Malcolm’s clenched fist itch even more. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
