AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The boss stomps out of the stock room doorway, a heavy crate of beer bottles held easier in his arms than a feather pillow. His black shirt stretches over his broad chest, and his forearms are corded with muscle beneath his rolled sleeves.
Sure enough, his dark eyes zoom right in on where we’re whispering behind the bar, his thick eyebrows coming down. Even across the room, you can see that silvery scar cutting through his left brow.
Gulping, I snatch up the nearest cloth. “Maybe he thinks we’re slacking. I’ll go wipe down those tables.”
“Mhm.”
They’re not messy, but I don’t want Kingston Holt to be mad at us. Mad atme. Even if he weren’t my boss, I wouldn’t want that. So I scuttle over to the tables like my hair is on fire, and I don’t come back until I’ve wiped down every surface in the bar.
Charlene smirks at me when I return, bottles clinking as she restocks the refrigerators. Kingston must’ve brought her the crate. Did he say anything?
“Weird,” she says again. “Told you so.”
“Because he brought those beers over?”
“Because he’s still staring at you, munchkin. Even now. Look.”
Oh, I don’t dare. My neck’s suddenly all stiff. What if I turn around and catch him staring at me like she says? What if itmeanssomething?
Or even worse: what if it doesn’t?
“Maybe he’s mad at me for something,” I say, misery clogging my throat. When I squint into the foggy mirror behind the bar, I can just about see a dark shape leaning in Kingston’s office doorway. The head is turned this way. “I got all woozy on Saturday and made a meal out of it. He had to sit me down and make a fuss.”
Charlene snorts, bending over to work. Bottles clink into place, and cold refrigerator air washes over my bare legs. Thank god. My legs are shiny with sweat, and my back is sticky under my clothes. This summer’s shaping up to be a real doozy. “Bet he hated that,” she says.
My stomach sinks. “Yeah.”
Did he? Did he hate it?
“Kingston Holt isnota caretaker,” Charlene goes on.
No. I mean… isn’t he?
“Bet that’s why he never married.” She bumps the refrigerator shut in a poof of frozen air. The beer bottles are all stacked perfectly in there, the labels facing forward. Charlene’s neat like that. “Well, that and doing time.”
“Uh-huh.”
I’m nodding along, but no one’s ever actually told me why Kingston Holt went behind bars. The whole town gossips about it, even all these years later, but they do it in that really infuriating way where everyone assumes you already know all the details. And if you ask for more info, it’s like you must have been left in the dark for a reason, so they hush up. Those lips are zipped.
Maddening.
And maybe Charlene would spill the beans, but definitely not in Kingston’s own bar. Not with the man himself leaning in that doorway, scowling over here like we’re problems he needs to solve.
“It’s you he’s watching, you know,” Charlene pipes up a few minutes later, when we’ve lapsed into companionable silence. I’ve been restocking the straws and napkins, and she’s been loading the dishwasher with dirties, humming along with the background songs that warble from the speakers. “Not us. Just you.”
Me?Why?
Wiping my clammy palms down my shorts, I give her a panicked look. “Do you think it’s my outfit?”
Itispretty casual. Usually I wear jeans to work, but it’s hotter than Satan’s armpit today, so I’m in cut-off denim shorts. They’re modest, though. No bare ass cheeks hanging out the back. And on top, I’m wearing a faded old band t-shirt I found in a thrift store, knotted at my waist.
Can Kingston tell I’ve never listened to this band—that I just liked the skulls and roses artwork? Does he think I’m a poser?
Or maybe this band got canceled because they turned out to be bigots or something, and now I’m making an accidental statement. Shit. Why didn’t I at least google them? Everything is such a freaking minefield these days.
“Your outfit’s fine, munchkin.” Charlene calls me that even though I’m only a few inches shorter than her, but I don’t mind. I like having a nickname; it makes our interactions feel cozy. “But maybe you should head over there and ask if Kingston needs anything. Take the bull by the horns, you know?”
She’s right. Gah. Iknowshe’s right, but my belly is full of hot snakes at the thought.
