The exasperated mother rolled her eyes. “Not now, Keith,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
“We’ll wait out here.” I gave him a wink.
And he reciprocated.
After a quick study of my face, Dani accompanied her daughter inside.
“Keith, huh.” I didn’t know what else to say to a seven-year-old. “Like Urban?”
He rolled his eyes. “Heck, no. Toby Keith. He’s a red-blooded American.”
Before I could defend the handsome Aussie, the mom and daughter reappeared, singing “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue.”
“I promise, Uncle Eddie’s as good as his word.” I grinned. “You’ll have all the H2O you need.”
Dani lowered her voice. “It’s not him I’m worried about. If Lucky can rain down havoc on his competitors, by God, he will.”
“Sounds like a real nut job.” Nut job? I sounded just like Uncle Eddie.
The cords in her neck stood out. “I swore I’d never be on welfare, and here I am. Why else do you think I entered this contest? Because I like chili?” She grabbed the hands of her two children and hurried away.
I hurried to the bar and found two margaritas and a Coke. “Who are these for?”
“Table six . . . I think.” Ryan had his thumbs raised to type a text. “What time is this shindig over?”
“Thirty minutes ago.”
As he typed, a faint smile appeared.
“Big plans?”
Wiping away his smile, he pocketed his phone. “You’d better deliver those before I have to remake them.”
“Good point.” I loaded my tray and turned, nearly slamming into Lucky Straw.
“Whoa there, gal.” With nimble hands, he steadied my tray as Coke splashed over the side of a red tumbler. He smelled of cinnamon candy and salsa.
“Oh, wow. Are you okay?” I stepped back.
He pasted on a charming smile. “Is one of those mine?” With a long arm, he reached for a glass.
“Sorry. Table six.”
The smile evaporated along with his smarmy tone. “You’ve yet to bring me and my buddy Whip our free drinks.” After a deep breath, I replied in my best friendly-yet-firm manner, “The drinks aren’t free tonight. Only the Cokes and iced tea.”
Narrowing his eyes, he studied me as if I enjoyed cheating him out of his due. “Seems to me, you’ve been avoiding me and my friend. We’re tired of waiting on you to take our order.”
I glanced around the dining room, filled to capacity with smiling faces and cheerful conversation, until I located Anthony. “There’s one of our other waiters,” I said, gesturing with my chin to the corner. “That young man will help you straight away while I take care of these drinks.” Inwardly, I groaned. The glasses were sweating and the ice had begun to melt. I could hear Aunt Linda’s rant in my head.
Mouth turned down in disapproval, Lucky paused. “Better than waiting for you to get around to it.” He marched away two steps and spun again. “And by the way, I have special dietary needs, which you would know if you read the comments section of my registration.”
Oh, great. Had I forgotten any dietary requests in the dozen or more comments we’d received? My stomach plummeted. I vaguely recalled setting aside a registration to discuss with Carlos, our lead cook. Something that required creating an additional item or two for the evening’s menu.
Lucky pulled the corners of his mustache. “Just as I thought. You’re dumbfounded.”
I found another two inches in my spine. “Who says we didn’t get your request?” I prayed my nose wouldn’t start to grow. “Wouldn’t you prefer it fresh? Not sitting in a warmer growing spongy?”
Again with the mustache, only this time he curled the ends. The corners of his mouth curved as well. “Prepare away, my taste buds are buzzing with anticipation.” I watched him barrel his way through a group of chili cooks conversing and blocking the aisle. “Excuse me. Watch out. Coming through.”
“Is he bothering you, Jo Jo?” Uncle Eddie asked, joining me.
“Do you remember anything about a special dietary request?”
He grabbed the brim of his hat with two hands. Uncle Eddie never wore his hat when working the restaurant, not unless he was putting on the dog for the tourists. “It’s on the bulletin board in the kitchen.”
“Did Carlos see it? Did you two discuss it?”
Slowly he shook his head, like a three-year-old caught with a crayon in his hand next to a dinosaur drawing on the living room wall. He took the drink tray from my hands. “Why don’t I deliver these for you? That way Linda can yell at me if they complain.”
“Table six,” I called above the din as he started off in the wrong direction.
I hurried toward the kitchen, dodging Lily as she bolted from the kitchen with a platter of quesadillas. “Carlos!” No sign of him. With my right hand, I grabbed Lucky’s registration from the bulletin board, and with my left, took a pan from the stove.
“What are you doing, Josefina?” Senora Mari stood at the back door. In the alley beyond her, Carlos was staring at me, jaw gaping, cigarette in midair.
“I’m leaving it in your capable hands.” I handed Senora Mari the pot and Carlos the form before she insisted I prove my negligible cooking skills. Fifteen minutes later, I sent Anthony to the kitchen to retrieve the desired dietary delicacy for Lucky. If that crotchety chili cook said one more cross word to me, I would spit in his eye.
After an hour, folks finally headed out. Lily was busing the last of the tables with the help of her older brother. With a quick sip of soda water and lime, I braced myself for the final push of the night. “I got it.” I handed her an empty rubber tub and grabbed the full one. I hauled the dirty dishes to the kitchen and delivered them to the dishwasher. When I returned to the dining room only Whip, Lucky, and Bridget Peck remained. They all turned toward me.
“Did you find a small leather pouch?” Lucky grabbed
