"What?"
"See something you like?" Burke needled.
"I’d have to be struck blind not to like that," he answered, then shut up as she came over to top off his coffee. He nodded thanks, barely looking at her, then watched her walk away, that slink in her stride a thing to appreciate. He turned back around to find three identical grins. He rolled his eyes. "I’ll be right back."
He headed to the back, where the bathrooms were housed. He passed the kitchen entrance and waited when he saw Kess dropping off an order. He decided to apologize for his cousin’s rudeness. At least that’s what he told himself. When she came around the corner, he stopped her with a soft, "Hey."
She turned, an unhappy look on her face. "Hey."
Cormac ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry about my cousin back there. He can be kind of a jackass."
"He can?" She was looking pointedly at him.
"What did I do?" He honestly couldn’t think of what he might have done to offend her.
"Aside from staring holes in my ass?" She shook her head, then continued, "Look, this may be fun for you and your friends, but I need this job, okay? What I don’t need is trouble. Rebecca has already warned me away from you. I don’t need a run in with my boss on my first week here because you and the boys decided it would be cool to harass the wait staff."
"Whoa, whoa," Cormac replied, raising his hands. "First off, Uncle Griff is fine with the way you handled things with Finn. And I apologize if I made you uncomfortable with the, uh, staring. I’ll try not to let it happen again." He stared at her face, trying to see if she looked at all mollified by what he said. "As for Rebecca—there’s nothing going on th…"
"Not my business." Kess cut him off. "I’ve got to get back to my tables." She hustled out of there and Cormac tried not to look at her. He found it was harder than he thought.
Kess grabbed her bag from behind the bar and clocked out at the computer. She waved goodbye to the bartender and stepped out into the biting mountain air. It was beginning to lightly drizzle and the rain made halos around the lightposts in the parking lot. She trudged up the hill to the back lot, tugging her jacket more tightly around her. She was looking forward to a hot meal with Anita and Bran and a long soak in the tub.
She threw her bag into her car and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened except a couple of clicks.
Kess tried again, muttering under her breath. Again nothing happened. She checked to see if she had left her lights on or the door ajar or anything else that might have drained the battery, but found nothing. Third time's a charm, she thought, turning the key once more. Except in this case.
She got out, hitting the hood release as she went. The rain was coming down harder now, no longer a drizzle. Her slim fingers found the catch and she raised the hood of her car, and stared down at the metal stuff that was supposed to make the car go. She felt like an oracle trying to read the future in some chicken entrails. She had no idea what she was looking at. She could fix a flat and check the oil, but that was the extent of her automotive knowledge.
Kess knew she shouldn’t be mad at the car. It was a good car—it had gotten her all the way from New Mexico to California and then here without much trouble. But she still had to resist the urge to kick it. She knew it was childish, but it was raining for God’s sake. And it was cold. She was going to have call a tow truck and get the car somewhere that could fix it and then find a way to her boarding house. There went her tips.
"Stupid car. You had to pick now, didn’t you?" Although now was probably better than when she was back on the road, fleeing from her family.
The sound of tires on gravel made her poke her head out from behind the raised hood. A Jeep was pulling in the lot, stopping right behind her dead car. The driver’s window rolled down and a male voice said, "Everything okay?"
"It’s fine."
But the guy was getting out of his car and coming over to where she stood looking down at her engine. Kess recognized him as the guy she’d caught staring at her on her first day. Terrific.
"Try and start it up," he said, leaning over her car to get a better look in the dim light.
"Look, I was just going to go inside and call a tow. You don’t have to worry about it." She really didn’t want to owe this guy anything.
"Just let me listen. If it’s something small, we may be able to fix it. Save you some cash."
Kess saw the logic in that and went back the driver’s side and turned the key in the ignition. Click, click, click. She stepped back out and shivered. The steady rain was soaking into her jacket, making her feel clammy.
"It’s your battery." He stuck his head out from behind the hood. "I’ll give you a jump and you can get somewhere to get a new one." He went over to his Jeep.
Kess opened up the trunk, getting her emergency kit, keeping an eye on him. He was being perfectly nice, keeping his eyes and hands to himself, focused only on the task at hand. He was also getting drenched, just like she was. His hair was plastered around his face and his overshirt was stuck to him. But he didn’t seem to mind it was much as she did.
He was looking for something in the back of his Jeep when she came up behind him. He held a flashlight and was muttering, "Jumper cables, jumper cables…"
"I’ve got some." She smiled when he jerked around, startled. She could move quietly when she wanted to.
"That’s good because I don’t know what happened to mine." He looked at her. "Kess, right? I’m Cormac."
"Hey." Maybe she’d been overreacting with the staring thing; she’d gotten worse in some of the places she’d worked. And he seemed perfectly pleasant and well-behaved now.
He seemed to shake himself, then turned back to his Jeep. "I’ll pull up alongside you and we’ll see if we can get you going." He handed her his flashlight and she took it and the cables back to the front of her car while he pulled in beside it.
Cormac worked quickly. Kess watched, trying to see what he did so she could do it if she ever found herself in this situation again. They huddled under the hood and he pointed out the connectors to her with the flashlight as his Jeep rumbled in the background. He pointed out a couple of other important parts, telling her how to diagnose some basic problems when she asked questions. With their heads so close together, she noticed that his eyes were grey.
After about five minutes, he said, "Give it a try."
Kess cranked the key in the ignition and it almost caught. "Try it again," she heard Cormac say. She did and the engine flared to life. She gave the car a little gas, revving the engine.
When she got out, Cormac had already unhooked the cables. He wound them in a neat circle and put them back in her trunk. Then he headed back to the front of the car for a final inspection. "You should be good to go," he said, letting the car’s hood down slowly until it clanged shut.
"Thanks. I really appreciate the help." She did. He’d actually been helpful, not just pretending he could help so he could try and mack on her while they waited for a tow truck.
Cormac ran his hand up through his hair and rubbed his neck. "No problem." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then looked away.
"You’re soaking wet," she replied. To her, soaking wet was a problem, especially when it went hand in hand with being cold.
"Clothes dry." He shrugged. "There’s an auto parts store a few blocks over. You should be able to get a new battery there—I think they can even put it in for you."
"Thanks again."
He waited until she got in, holding the door for her. "Consider it penance for the staring." He didn’t wait for her to say anything, just closed the door after her. He waved goodbye and went back to his Jeep.
Kess backed the car up and left the lot. She checked her rearview and saw Cormac opening his passenger side door to retrieve a large box. He caught her waiting and she waved at him. He smiled at her, then ducked his head down and ran through the rain to the restaurant. She hated to admit it, but he had a very nice smile.
************
She’d been at the Barn for over a week and had gotten into the rhythms of the place. She’d only shadowed one other time, at her first dinner shift, before she’d gotten the go ahead to go solo. It was an easy, relaxed clientele which made it a lot easier to pick up the way things were run, not that they were much different from anywhere else she had worked. She’d learned the regulars’ names, found out what they usually ordered and drank, and made sure everyone she served was well taken care of. The only thing that seemed to change were the specials.
A few days later, Kess had reached the end of another night at the Barn. She was finishing up her first double with a load of sidework, mostly restocking salt and sugar on the tables and rolling silverware. Her last table had left twenty minutes ago and the likelihood of another dinner party coming in this close to ten was effectively nil. The kitchen would stay open for another hour serving apps for the bar crowd and then it too would close.
She rolled her last set of silver and stopped by the kitchen to check with Griff to see if there was anything else that needed to be done. Griff stuck his head out of the kitchen and took in the dining room with a practiced eye. "Looks good," he said, approval strong in his voice. "Tip out?"
"Taken care of. I’m all set."
"Did you get your meal?" Every server got a free meal from the menu for each shift they worked.
"Not yet, but…" Kess stopped, embarrassed. She wasn’t sure how to ask the next question.
Griff cocked his head quizzically. "What you got on your mind?"
"Are you sure we can order anything off the menu?" She reddened. The menu held a huge number of choices, from pastas to chicken and fish. She’d been sticking to the cheaper choices of pasta and chicken, but what really interested Kess tonight was steak. And those were some of the most expensive items on the menu. She didn’t want Griff to think she was taking advantage of his generosity.
He laughed easily and patted her on the back. "What do you want? I’ll put it in for you."
"Eighteen ounce ribeye, please?" She asked, wondering if he’d change his mind now that he knew she was asking for a high-priced entrée.
His blue eyes crinkled up at the sides and she could tell he was fighting a grin. "Baked or mashed?"
"Baked. Loaded. Veg instead of salad." She looked at him a little sheepishly. "Are you sure?"
Griff nodded. "How do you want it cooked?"
"Rare please."
He pushed her between her shoulder blades. "Go on and sit down in the bar. Unwind a little. It was a good night."
Kess breathed a sigh of relief and headed to a high top table in the corner, stopping only to grab a glass of water from behind the bar. She settled into the chair and pulled her hair out of the chopsticks, letting it tumble down behind her in a black fall. Having it up all day made her scalp ache and she lightly massaged her head, listening to the murmur of voices and the drone of the television set. The bar was at half-light and it soothed her tired eyes. It wasn’t light enough to read by, so she left the book she’d borrowed from the boarding house bookshelves in her bag, staring aimlessly out into space.
She knew she’d done well tonight. Even after tip out she still had about a hundred bucks and this was a slow night. She been waitressing since she’d left Miami; it was a fluid situation with unusual hours and you didn’t need a lot of experience to get started. Restaurants also turned out to be excellent places to purchase new papers--half the people working the kitchens were always illegally in the country and they knew where to buy fake social security cards. She’d worked in every kind of place there was--diners, chains, mid-level, high-end, cocktail joints--and she’d gotten better along the way. She knew that in many instances, she’d been hired because she was pretty; she wound up surprising most of her bosses when she turned out to be good too. And they never asked questions when she had to quit unexpectedly.
The Barn was a good place though. Nice clientele, good tippers for the most part, a solid staff. There weren’t a lot of managers to make things tough on you. Most of the staff were career—some had been working here for twenty years. Rebecca was the other most recent hire and she was one of the few non-townies on staff. Kess thought she knew why people were inclined to stick around: Griff treated everyone who worked here like family. For people like her, who didn't have any to speak of, it was a comfort.
He reminded Kess a little of her father. He and Griff didn't have much in common on the surface, but they were both responsible men who took care of people, although in different ways. She and her father hadn't been close, not really. He'd saved most of his time and attention for the needs of the clan, but he'd always been a presence in her life.
Initially, after she first left Miami, she would call every few months and leave a message that she was okay. She always dialed from a disposable phone and tossed it soon after--she made sure that she was almost done with the phone before she called in case it could be traced. She hated the idea of her father worrying about her. She tried to time her calls for when he would be unable to answer--she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stay away or keep quiet if she heard his voice. While he might have been a distant man, she had never doubted his love for her or her brother. He just didn't seem to have a good way of showing it; it was as if, after the death of her mother, he had walled himself off from anything else that might bring him pain. He kept them at arm's length to protect himself.