The Goodbye Bride (13 page)
“Or I could never get my memory back, and we could pick up right where we left off.” Her eyes widened suddenly. Her fingers touched her lips. A pink flush climbed her cheeks.
Her words sparked his desire. Tempted him like a perfect summer day during lunch rush. He could ignore her, he could avoid her, he could take a flipping bath in denial. But it didn't change the truth. He wanted Lucy more than he wanted his next breath.
Get a grip, Callahan. She left you.
She may not remember it, and she may wish it hadn't happened, but nothing he did now was going to change the fact that she had.
Zac tempered his tone. “That's not going to happen, Lucy.”
“I didn't mean to say that.”
How ironic that he now had everything he'd wanted since she'd left: Lucy back in his life. Lucy still in love with him. Lucy wanting to spend forever with him. And it didn't even matter because it would all be gone the moment her memory returned.
Lucy cleared her throat. “I've been a server before. I have experience. You wouldn't even have to train me.”
She'd told him about her waitressing jobs in Boston and Nantucket. He had no doubt she'd been efficient with that amazing memory of hers. But she'd also held a record for dropped trays.
“I know what you're thinking. But I got better.”
“You got fired.”
Her chin went up. “It was a cutback.”
He was shaking his head.
Her eyes pleaded with him. “I'll be the best server you have.”
“No, Lucy.”
“Come on, Zac. I need a job, and you need me out of your hair. This is the quickest solution I can think of.”
“You should go back to Portland.”
“And be the center of a media circus? Be the freak with amnesia?”
He palmed the back of his neck. “Lucy, I need my space. You can't just come back here, move in, and start hanging out at the restaurant all day.”
Hurt flickered in her eyes before she tipped her chin up. “Well, I can't get out of here without a job, Zac.”
“You had a perfectly good job in Portland.”
“Well, I don't anymore. It's just until Marci comes back, and then I'll have enough for a deposit on an apartment.”
He spun around and paced the length of the bar. He didn't want to look into her pleading blue eyes anymore. Didn't want to feel like he was letting her down. No matter what she'd done in the past, she was in a defenseless position right now. He didn't want her to be manipulated by her ex-fiancé or by other people who didn't have her best interests at heart.
And truth was, he didn't have anyone else he could call to take Marci's place. Tourist season was under way, and he had other responsibilities. Finding and training a server would take time he didn't have.
What would his dad advise? Probably to get Lucy out of his spare room.
The sooner the better.
But she couldn't do that without a job, and this was the only one available. If she was working, he wouldn't see so much of herânot really. They'd both be busy, plenty of people around. That was good.
He couldn't believe he was considering this. He shook his head.
“
Please
, Zac. I need a job and you need a server. You won't regret it. I promise.”
She could stinking read his mind. That much hadn't changed. Beau was going to have a cow. But when did Beau's opinion ever keep Zac from doing what he wanted?
When he was directly across from Lucy he stopped, nailing her with a look. He searched her eyes for a hint of a reason to say no. Anything that smacked of manipulation. He wouldn't be played. But she stared back through guileless eyes lit with hope.
He gave a hard sigh. Fine. Whatever. “Just until Marci's back,” he said gruffly.
Her eyes sparked, her mouth lifting at the corners. “I'll turn in my apron the second she returns.”
“Your shift starts at five tonight and goes till closing.”
“I'll be here.”
“You need to familiarize yourself with the menu and pricing. There've been some changes.”
“I'll have it memorized.” She threw herself across the bar and squeezed him around the neck with her delicate arms. “Thank you, Zac!”
He braced himself against the warmth of her embrace, against the sweet apple smell of her, forbidding himself from wrapping his arms around her and drawing her closer.
“You won't regret it,” she said as she drew away, her eyes shining with relief.
But that was the thing. He already did.
T
he Roadhouse was busy that night. Lucy ran her legs off between the tables and the kitchen. Conversations buzzed in the air, mingling with the noise of the Red Sox game. The pool tables were full all night, hosting rowdy competitions, and the tangy smell of buffalo wings hung heavily in the air.
By eight o'clock Lucy's legs ached, and one of her eyes was blurry. She'd forgotten how physical waitressing was. But she was determined to prove to Zac she was up to the job.
None of the townspeople had been particularly friendly, but she was too busy for small talk anyway. She bustled around refilling glasses and taking orders, keeping a smile plastered to her face until her cheeks hurt.
Seeing that table twenty-three had been seated, she tucked the empty tray under her arm and approached the booth. Her smile dimmed when she recognized its occupants. Beau sat on the aisle, Eden beside him. Across the table his aunt peered at the menu through her readers.
Lucy conjured up a smile as she came to a stop beside the table. “Hey, y'all.”
Beau glanced up from his conversation with Eden. His smile drooped, and his onyx eyes went flat as they fell to her apron. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Eden shoved an elbow in his gut. “Hey, Lucy. You found a job. That's great. Isn't it, Beau?”
“Fan-freaking-tastic,” he muttered, scanning a menu he surely didn't need.
“It's only temporary,” she said, focusing on the one friendly face at the table. “I'm filling in for Marci.”
Miss Trudy scowled at Lucy over her readers, her lips pursed as if she'd just sucked a particularly sour lemon. The woman was somewhere near sixty, with short silver hair framing a narrow face. At the moment frown lines crouched between her blue eyes.
“Howdy, Miss Trudy,” Lucy said. “It's good to see you. What can I get y'all to drink?” she asked before the woman could spear her with that sharp tongue of hers.
Lucy took their drink orders and left to fill them, stopping on the way to fetch Sheriff Colton's empty plate. She rang up his bill, giving him a discount since he was in uniform and since he'd deigned to talk to her. Next she grabbed the Callahans' drinks, dropping off the sheriff's bill before arriving back at their table.
She began taking their orders, grateful her strong memory required no pad or pen.
The sheriff ambled over before she was finished. At six foot seven he towered over Lucyâand everyone else. The overhead lights gleamed off his shaved head and caught the red in his fiery mustache. He was in decent shape for a man in his late fifties. He was locally famous for his short-lived career with the Celtics years ago before a knee injury forced him to retire.
“Howdy, Beau, Eden.” Sheriff Colton placed his hat over his heart and nodded at Beau's aunt. “Miss Trudy.”
The older woman gave him a curt nod, suddenly fascinated with the baseball game on the screen across from their table.
“Hey there, Colton,” Beau said. “Have a seat. Finish the game with us.”
“Well . . .” He eyed the empty spot beside Miss Trudy. “If it's not too much trouble.”
Miss Trudy frowned as she scooted toward the wall, and the sheriff lowered his weight onto the bench.
“Can I bring you another Dr Pepper?” Lucy asked him.
“That'd be great. Thank you.”
The kitchen was buzzing when she put the order in, and there was a line of people waiting for an inside table. Zac was mopping up a spill on the deck where a few souls were braving the evening chill.
Moments later she turned to a newly seated table, smile ready, only to find Morgan LeBlanc perusing a menu. One of her friends sat across from her.
Lucy's heart sank. Of course they'd be seated at her station. She scooped up the tip from the last diners and forced a smile to her face. “Hey.”
Dismay rolled over Morgan's face like a summer fog into the harbor. “You know that word only has one syllable, right?” Her eyes scanned Lucy's apron, then rolled slowly up to Lucy's face. “You're waitressing. How . . . cute.”
Lucy tipped her chin up, holding her smile steady. “What can I say? Zac needed my help.”
Morgan tilted her head, her eyes narrowing reflectively. “I wonder how long it'll take you to bail on him this time.”
Her friend snickered behind a manicured hand.
Lucy bit her tongue. Hard. Then fixed a smile on her face. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“We're ready to order actually,” Morgan said. “I'd like the half salad and sandwich combo. Make the salad with extra tomatoes and no croutons, with balsamic vinaigrette on the side. For the sandwich I'd likeâshouldn't you be writing this down?”
“I'll remember.”
Morgan's eyes taunted her. “I'd like the tuna fish sandwich, toasted, with extra tomatoes and no mayo on whole wheat bread.”
Morgan's friend closed her menu and shot Lucy a condescending look. “I'll have the grilled salmon platter with a saladâno tomatoes and extra croutons. Low-fat ranch on the side.”
“You get one more side with that.”
“What are my choices?”
“French fries, onion rings, baked potato, mashed potatoes, broccoli, asparagus, or coleslaw.”
“A baked potato. Sour cream but no butter.”
With one last tight smile, Lucy walked away, turned the order in to the kitchen, and went to refill drinks. She stopped by the Callahan table for a few minutes, refilling drinks and trying to get Beau to ease up. Miss Trudy still sported a scowl, bless her heart.
She took another order, helped bus a table, and delivered a couple bills. She finished the salads for Morgan's table and delivered them.
Morgan frowned at the salad. “Is there a tomato shortage I don't know about?”
Lucy dredged up a smile. “I'll bring you some more. Anything else?”
“Order up, Lucy!” someone called from the kitchen.
A few moments later she delivered the extra tomatoes, then
returned to the kitchen, staying busy until the meals for Morgan's table were ready.
She slid the plates onto the table between the women. She was relieved when they ignored her, but as she passed by a few minutes later, Morgan flagged her down.
“This bread is stale. And where's the mayo?” She pushed the plate away. “Can you really be that dense?” she asked, mocking Lucy's accent.
Lucy's muscles quivered with the need to slap the sneer off Morgan's face. “The bread was delivered this morning, and there's mayo on the sandwich.”
Morgan lifted a finely plucked brow.“Are you saying I'm wrong?”
“I'm saying you're mistaken.”
Her friend piped up as she pushed her plate away. “I think there's butter on this baked potato. I can't have butter.” She shuddered.
Lucy gritted her teeth.“It's sour cream only, just as you ordered.”
“Everything okay?” Zac stopped behind her. Awkwardness descended upon them like ants over a bread crumb.
Morgan offered him a sweet smile. “Oh, Zac, it's fine. Just a minor issue with our orders. Lucy's doing her best, but I'm sure she's just confused, what with that awful head injury and all. Bless her heart.” She gave Lucy a pitying glance. “Isn't that what they say in your neck of the woods?”
“I'm sorry, ladies,” Zac said, reaching for their plates. “Lucy, can you take care of this?”
“Oh no, Zac,” Morgan said with enough sugar in her voice to sweeten a pitcher of iced tea. “It's not a big deal. Really.”
“Don't be silly. We'll fix it.” He grabbed Morgan's plate and handed it to Lucy. “Won't we, Lucy?”
Heat filled her face. “Of course.”
Z
ac sank into his office chair and opened the Skype program. Riley was supposed to call in a few minutes. The restaurant was usually pretty slow after lunch, and since it was late evening in Afghanistan, it was a good time to catch up with his brother.
A few minutes later Riley appeared on the screen in his desert fatigues.
Zac still wasn't used to his high-and-tight haircut or the chiseled cut of his jawline. Sometime when he hadn't been looking, his baby brother had grown up.
“Hey, brother,” Zac said.
Riley's lips tipped in a crooked smile. “Zac. How's it going, man?”
“Not bad. You look tired.”
“Keeping busy over here. But I'm doing all right. How's things around town? Roadhouse doing all right?”
“Ayuh. Same old, same old. Beau and Eden came in last night with Aunt Trudy. Sheriff stopped by the table to flirt for a while. That's always entertaining.”
“Poor guy. He ever going to make a move?”
Zac smiled. “Not with all those hands-off signals Aunt Trudy gives him.”
“She could do worse.”
“That she could.”
“Talked to the rest of the family last week.” Riley ran a palm over his head. “Heard you're going out with Morgan LeBlanc. What up with that?”
Zac lifted a shoulder. “Just a couple dates. Nothing serious.” He'd been hoping for a spark or two, but so far she left him as cold as a February morning. He should give it a little longer. He was just distracted right now with Lucy's return.
“Hard to believe Fourth of July is coming up in a week,” Zac said, eager to change the subject.
“No kidding. I lose all sense of time over here. We'll have to schedule a chat before you all stuff yourselves with grilled burgers and hot dogs. Man, my mouth's watering just thinking about it.”
