The Grey Tier (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

JOSHUA’S HANDS WERE FIRMLY planted on his hips and he looked at me the way one might at a recalcitrant child. “For the last time, Evie, you don’t need to stay. You’ve had a rough evening and I think you’re entitled to an early night. I’ll walk you to your car and close up.”

“No, really, Joshua. I’m okay.” I’m not certain who I was trying to reassure more—him or me, as my hands were still shaking from the encounter. “Doing some work might help. And I don’t want to leave you here to do it all alone.”

The truth was, a part of me didn’t want to leave
him
all alone. He had intervened in what otherwise might have become an ugly situation, and I felt I owed him something. Also, I kept wondering if those men or whatever they were would be back for Joshua, or for me. I didn’t know if I could prevent anything bad from happening, but if it did, Joshua wouldn’t be alone—like Nick had been.

Like my sister had been.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

He looked down at the carpeted floor for a moment. “I hope I didn’t scare you even more, you know with . . .” He held up the gun, the dull gleam of black metal catching my eye and making me feel uneasy in spite of myself.

“Uh, no. But if you keep waving it around like that, I might change my mind.”

He laughed suddenly. “Oh sure. Sorry!”

Joshua walked back behind the bar and took out a box, where he then placed the gun and locked it. I wondered if the gun had been there when Nick was alive.

After giving myself a few more minutes to regain my composure, I decided to go to the kitchen to make sure everything was squared away. More and more people were coming in to eat at Nick’s—wanting the famous fish tacos. While I didn’t have the recipe, it appeared Becky did. I guessed Nick must have shared it with her considering the nature of their relationship. But all those tacos made for a less-than-clean kitchen by the end of the day.

“I think I’ll make sure the kitchen is clean and ready to go for tomorrow.” I started for the door, when Joshua reached out and touched my arm—again the flash of him in the back of the police car. I pulled my arm away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” We shared an awkward few seconds between us as I’m sure my reaction caught him off guard. It wasn’t as if he’d grabbed me hard or anything. “I was just going to say, I’ll go with you. We can get it done together. The bar is clean now, so let’s get the kitchen sorted out and I’ll walk you to your car then.”

“Okay.” I nodded and smiled weakly at him, trying to soften the negative response I’d had to his touch.

We put away any food that’d been left out. Truth be told, Becky wasn’t exactly the most detail-oriented person when it came to cleaning. I swept and wiped down the counters. Joshua mopped. We didn’t say much while we worked, but his presence was comforting.

Joshua picked up a large box and headed towards the walk-in storage closet.

“Do you need help?” I asked.

“No, I’m fine. Well, maybe if you can get the door for me . . .”

“Sure.” Happy to provide any assistance I could, I stepped behind him and swung open the door. The large closet was a bit disorganized and filled with bottles of liquor, plates, dried foods, canned goods—that sort of thing. I quickly stepped in, moving some items around to make room for the large box.

Suddenly, I felt something icy reach out and touch my neck. I whirled around and looked at Joshua. He stood behind me, still holding the box in his hands. He started to set it down in the newly cleared space as he did so, the door to the closet slammed shut behind us.

“What the . . . ?” Joshua turned and tried to open the heavy door. Nothing. “That’s weird.”

I agreed, but then again, everything about my life had pretty much been what I would consider weird, especially lately. “Are we locked in here?”

“No.” He laughed nervously, and I wasn’t sure if I should believe him or not. “I may have left the back door open and the wind blew this one shut. It’s just old and heavy.” He pushed against it hard, putting all of his weight into his shoulder. The door didn’t move.

Perspiration started to trickle down my neck and slink its way down my backside. What if those guys had come back? What if they’d locked us in here? Joshua tried again and again. I came over and put my weight into the door as well. Nothing.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say,” he said. “We might be stuck here until tomorrow.”

“What?! I have to get home to Mac and Cass.” And what if Lucas showed up? What would he think if I didn’t come home all night?

Joshua let out a deep breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep trying. Just let me sit down for a minute and think this through.”

I nodded, telling myself to chill out. I knew I was tired and no doubt he was exhausted too. And, let’s face it. If I was going to be trapped in a storage closet, one with a working light, lots of food, and alcohol was certainly better than nothing.

Joshua glanced around the small area and took down a set of dish towels, spreading them out on the concrete floor. “Well, it’s no sofa, but I guess it’s better than cold cement.”

I laughed, in spite of my anxiety. “I come from a hick town and I’ve sat my butt down on the hard ground more than once in my life. I think I can handle this. But I have to tell you, I am not sure how my animals will fare through the night without me.” Not, of course, that I’d have to worry about either of them starving to death . . . especially not Mac.

“The good news is my mother will likely come looking for me if I’m not home in an hour. I may be almost thirty, but she treats me like I’m five.”

I nodded, not wanting to say I’d noticed. “Wait, do you have your cell phone on you?”

He shook his head resignedly. “Left it on the bar. You?”

“Nope. In my purse in the kitchen.”

“Worst case scenario then, we have to wait a couple of hours at the most before my mother figures out I’m MIA and comes on a rescue search.” He waved his hand at the dish rags on the floor. “Seat?”

“Sure.” It’s not like I had any other options.

Joshua tore open the box he’d just set down and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Want some?”

“How do you plan to get the cork out?”

“I’m a bartender now, remember?” He took a corkscrew from the front pocket of his jeans.

I nodded. Kind of late for wine, but since we were stuck . . .

“Are there any wine glasses in here?”

He reached up onto a shelf above him and took down a couple of Styrofoam cups. “No . . . but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“They’ll do just fine.”

He opened the wine, poured us each a cup full, and sat down next to me, placing the bottle on the box next to him. “So, here we are.”

“Yep.”

“Pretty eventful night.”

“You can say that,” I said, taking a sip from my cup. Not bad, considering the circumstances.

He brought his cup up to his lips and took a long drink. The silence between us was palpable.

“So, you know a bit about me,” he said breaking the tension. “How about you? Tell me about yourself.”

My shoulders and neck tightened. “Not much to tell.” I shrugged. “I grew up in a small town in Texas. My mother owns the beauty shop there. It’s actually called
The Beauty Shoppe
.” He laughed at this. “My dad is the minister for Main Street Baptist Church.”

“Really?” He looked at me curiously.

“Oh yeah. Really.” I took another gulp of wine.

“I bet there were some rules in your house.”

I nodded slowly. “There were, but my mom knows how to temper my father. They make a good team, and my dad loves us. There’s no doubt.”

“Must be hard to be away from them.”

I swirled the wine gently in my cup. “Kind of, but I have a freedom here that I didn’t at home. Don’t get me wrong, I miss them, but it was time for me to make a name for myself.”

He nodded and took another drink. “I know exactly where you’re coming from. How about sisters, brothers . . . you have any?”

I swallowed hard, not saying anything for a few seconds. I stared hard at the dish towel beneath me. “I, uh, I do. Or I at least I did.” No matter how many years had passed, this part never got any easier. “My sister, Hannah, disappeared when I was twelve and she was fifteen.”

I watched the color drain from Joshua’s face. He touched the top of my free hand. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

I shook my head. “It’s a natural question. I’m not offended. It’s a difficult subject and, let’s face it, each of us has had some tough times in our lives.” I polished off the wine and handed him my cup. He poured me another full cup and topped his off. “I just don’t really like to talk about it.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Of course not. Let’s move on to something safe . . . um, what kind of food do you like?”

This made us both laugh.

“I love food. Period. I love good Southern food, fish and chips—anything fattening.”

“You are far from fat.”

“I swim every day, now that I have a pool. And I do try to eat healthy, but I like to treat myself now and again.”

“I hear that. In fact, I want to change up the menu here. I like the taco theme, but I want to add some things. I’d love to redo the place. It’s a matter of money.”

Simone’s face popped into my head again. This might be the right time to mention her interest in investing in Nick’s.

“You said something about that earlier.” I rubbed my arms as it was getting chilly in the closet. “I might actually know someone who would be willing to help you.”

“You cold?” he asked.

“No. Well, a little.”

“Here.” He started unbuttoning his long sleeved shirt.

Heat rose directly to my cheeks and dispersed itself all over my body. “Oh no! Don’t do that. I don’t want you to be cold, too.”

“Don’t be silly! I have a T-shirt underneath. I’ll be fine.”

He placed his shirt around my shoulders and I felt instantly more comfortable. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shifted himself into a more comfortable position and then peered at me interestedly. “You were saying you might know someone who could help me out?”

I nodded and took another sip. “Yes. So, you know I have a day job. I work for the pop star, Simone.”

“Really? I mean I don’t care for that kind of music much, but I know she’s huge. What do you do for her?”

“I do her makeup.”

“Women really have people do that? Does it pay well?”

“Men too, believe it or not. And yes, it pays very well, but I am at her beck and call a good chunk of the time. Simone’s okay though. A bit rough around the edges, but her heart is in the right place. Anyway, she was here not long ago, and she mentioned she’d be interested in buying the place.”

He shook his head firmly. “No. I don’t want to sell. At least I don’t think I do.”

“Maybe she could invest?”

Joshua pondered this for a minute. “Maybe, but she is so high profile, and I’m not sure I want that kind of publicity.”

“Fair enough. But maybe she could be a silent investor. And she’s not nearly as high maintenance as you might think.” That’s right, Evie. And there are snowballs in hell.

He rubbed his face thoughtfully. “Maybe. It might work. You really think she would be interested?”

“She’s the one who said something to me. All I can do is talk to her.”

“Okay. What do I have to lose?” He grinned and held his cup out towards me. “Shall we toast to my possible new business partner, Simone?”

I lifted my cup to meet his, “Cheers!” and quickly gulped the rest down. Now I had done it. Made a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. Simone was fickle and could have easily been talking out of her rear when she’d mentioned her interest in the bar.