“Sure,” I said, plastering on a smile and stuffing down my concerns as I turned to the woman next to me. She looked like she was around my age—late twenties, early thirties—and she had a friendly enough face, but her blue eyes looked guarded, not that I could blame her if she and Ruth really did have issues. “I’m Carly. Welcome to Max’s Tavern. We’re happy to have the help.”
Some of the iciness left her eyes. “I’m Molly. Nice to meet you. And I’m thankful to be here. I could really use the job.”
That made me feel better. Times were tough in Drum, and the fact that she needed a job meant she would likely put in the effort to keep it. “If you want to come to the back, I’ll show you where the lockers are and introduce you to Tiny and Sweetie Pie.”
She laughed. “Sweetie Pie?”
Grinning, I said, “Tiny, our short-order cook, gives all the cooks nicknames.” I nearly told her not to worry about getting to know Sweetie Pie that well since she probably wouldn’t be around much longer, but I didn’t want to scare her.
Ruth was shooting daggers in my direction as we walked to the back. I showed Molly the back room and where we kept the extra T-shirts. Then I told her she could pick any of the open mini lockers to store her things. After she went to the restroom to change, I took her to the entrance to the kitchen, making sure to tell her that Tiny didn’t like anyone in his kitchen during working hours and we weren’t supposed to cross the imaginary line at the threshold.
“Tiny,” I called out. “This is Molly. Max just hired her as a waitress.”
The large man glanced over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll be damned. So he actually did it.”
“Did what?” Molly asked me in an undertone.
“Hired another waitress,” I said. “There’s been some resistance.”
“From Ruth,” she said in a dry tone.
I hated to speak ill of my friend, so I said nothing. I struggled to understand Ruth’s attitude, but I knew she had trouble trusting people. Which meant she didn’t want anyone new coming in and messing with the status quo. Even if we were working ourselves ragged.
Although the thin woman next to him seemed too intent on the food on the grill to pay attention to us, Tiny turned around to face us. “Welcome, Molly. I’m sure Carly’s already filled you in about not comin’ into the kitchen. Other than that, I’m pretty easygoin’. Just put your tickets on the wheel, and we’ll take ’em down and put ’em with the plates when the order’s up. Put the dirty plates and such in the plastic bins outside the kitchen, and we’ll load ’em in the dishwasher.”
“Y’all don’t have bussers?” she asked with a confused look.
Hadn’t she been to Max’s Tavern before? There weren’t exactly a lot of restaurants or bars in the area. Maybe she’d been scared enough of Ruth to stay away.
“Oh, honey,” I said with a chuckle. “You must have experience at a fancy restaurant. We’re bare bones here. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. It only took me a few days.”
“Malarkey,” Tiny said, turning back to the grill. “It took you less than a night. On Monday Night Football, no less.”
Molly’s brow furrowed.
“Monday nights are big in the fall and early winter, thanks to Max’s big-screen TVs. Now it’s baseball and NASCAR. You got a favorite driver?”
“Who doesn’t?” she said as though I’d asked if she knew how to breathe. Then she rattled off the name of one of the drivers I’d heard some of the guys cheer for.
I grinned. I hadn’t known the first thing about NASCAR before coming to Drum, but Marco had filled me in, giving me a list of stats and helping me pick a favorite driver. He’d told me it would rake in tips, and he hadn’t steered me wrong.
“Who is he?” Molly asked with an ornery grin.
“What?” I asked, realizing I’d zoned out for a moment.
“The guy who put that dreamy look on your face. You were thinking about someone, weren’t you?”
“What?” I practically shouted. “I was not.”
She laughed. “That’s okay. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out soon enough.” She pointed to her temple. “I’ve got really good radar for things like that.”
I stopped in my tracks. What on earth was she talking about? Marco and I were just friends. Close friends. When I wasn’t working double shifts all the time, we hung out at his place or at Hank’s. Or sometimes we went to Ewing to eat or see a movie at the two-screen cinema. A couple of times we’d headed to Greeneville to do some shopping and eat out. But we were only friends. Not once had Marco made the slightest suggestion that he was interested in anything more, and he’d made it very clear that he was a no-commitment kind of guy. And me…given my track record, I’d sworn off men. Which wasn’t hard to do when I was working six days a week.
But this wasn’t the time to think about my relationship with Marco. “Well, I hope you have a good radar for all these construction workers pouring into town. Especially since the jobsite’s been shut down by the sheriff and they’ve got nothing else to do except sit in here all day and drink.”
“Good for business, right?” she said with a smile.
“Yeah,”
