“You would. And I don’t feel guilty about that at all. So, I’m here to help any way I can.”
“Well, you’re the boss, so you tell me what you’d like to do.”
“I think I just want to lose myself in the cooking for a while. I see you’re starting the soup. I’ll get started on the day’s rice dish.”
Time flew. Leesa loved being busy, and she simply gave herself over to what needed to be done. Rachel and Ginny shared server duties, with Michelle scheduled to come in for the supper hour to help. Tracy arrived and, when she saw Carrie at the stove, announced she would focus on producing a load of pastries.
Conversation was had in bits and pieces between taking care of customers, and the rhythm that Leesa loved made it all fun.
“We have a gentleman out in the dining room who’s asking about you,” Rachel said. The door swung behind her. “He said he’s a former army buddy and wanted to know if you had time to talk to him. I told him I’d check.”
Ginny had swung into the kitchen on Rachel’s heels and had clearly overheard.
Leesa met Ginny’s gaze. It was actually past time for her break, but she knew no one would have said a word about that to this man, whoever he was. “Did he give you a name?”
“He said you knew him as Corporal Arnie Bates, though he did say he’s not in the army anymore,” Rachel said.
“Do you want to go talk to him? Or do you want me to call Adam?”
Ginny must have seen something in my expression. Bates had been a friend of her ex, though not, as far as she could tell, a close one. But there had been something about him that had made her…wary. As far as she knew, he’d been wounded during the same attack on their base as she had. She couldn’t recall how serious his injury had been. And now that she thought about it, she couldn’t actually recall if she’d ever seen him after that.
Leesa didn’t doubt her ability to handle herself in any given situation. But there was a difference, in her mind, between being caught off guard and having to deal and willfully walking into a situation of unknown purpose. “I think yes, to both.”
“Good call.” Tracy nodded. “Rachel, you go tell him she’ll be out in just a moment. Ginny, go and keep an eye on him after Rachel delivers the message. I’ll call your husband—and mine, who’s with him at the moment.”
Tracy can be the boss when she feels she needs to be. “That sounds like a plan, Tracy. Thanks, guys.”
Leesa gave it five minutes, and then she wiped her hands, removed her apron, and headed out into the dining room. She spotted Arnie Bates immediately—and he sure as hell spotted her, too. Their gazes met, and she read an intelligence there she hadn’t noticed before.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adam and Peter Alvarez-Kendall come into the restaurant. She made her way over to Bates, ready to see why he’d wanted to talk to her.
She sensed Adam and Peter coming up behind her and wondered at the shuttered look that Bates dropped into place as they approached.
“Bateman.” Peter sounded irked. “I heard you were back in Dallas. What the hell do you want with Leesa?”
“Alvarez. What the hell are you doing here?”
“This is my hometown.”
Leesa didn’t notice it happening, but in the blink of an eye, both the sheriff and the fed had maneuvered her so that she was nearly behind them.
Bates—or Bateman—looked from Peter, to the sheriff, and finally met her gaze once more. He exhaled heavily and nodded. “Well, I guess you gentlemen had better join us, then. I have something to discuss with Ms. Jordan—and I don’t think it’s going to be a welcome topic of conversation at all.”
* * * *
Bryce Jordan stored the cleaning cart that carried his tools of the trade—mop, broom, and the fucking, disgusting toilet brush—in the large closet and then closed the door on it, and his job, for the next few days. Inside, he felt ready to explode. He hated this fucking job, and he hated this fucking city.
Jordan hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his ex, about the possibility of getting some of his own back, since Arnie had gotten back to him. His old bud had found the bitch for him, and now, finally, he’d have his moment. Arnie even told him he’d be his “witness”.
Knowing that Arnie was looking for her, knowing that he’d probably have this chance, had just made him realize how pathetic his life actually was. He’d been lying to himself the last couple of years. He was basically going nowhere, fast. What he needed was an in with a bigger source, to create an even bigger side hustle. He didn’t mind taking the chances. He could move drugs. Hell, he knew weapons well enough he could move them, too. Smuggle some people across the border? Yeah, as long as they wanted to come, he could do that as well.
I just want to cash in big enough to get the fuck out of here. He didn’t know why, but every place he went here in Dallas reminded him of his time in prison. He felt prison crawling on his skin. Nothing had worked out for him since he’d been sprung.
Anger was a black mass within him, hot and bitter, and he wondered, some days, if he’d be able to contain it. What he needed was to pour it out, just puke it all over someone who really deserved it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peyton, his fucking supervisor, headed toward him.
Wonder what the fucking bastard wants now. He’d put in his ten, and he was fucking well calling it done. The anger seethed and told him Peyton could use a good smack-down. Come on, you prick,
