I wait until we’re both seated before asking, “What brings you here, Lea?”
“I was wondering if you have any openings. I’m looking for a job, now that—” She stops when Emme approaches with two cups of coffee and waits until she returns to the bar.
“Go on,” I prompt when she hesitates.
“Well, with my boys in high school and driving themselves, I’ve got too much time on my hands. It was Kaga’s suggestion, actually. He said you guys had some staffing issues and he was gonna talk to Ouray, but I wanted to do this on my own.” She grins. “He’s not too happy about that.”
I can see why. Her husband is just like the other men at the clubhouse, protective and more than a tad controlling. The only difference is the other couples all met later in life when the women already had careers of their own. From what I understand, Kaga and Lea were high school sweethearts.
“I bet, and yes, we’re still a little shorthanded on waitstaff.”
Mandy—my latest hire—came to me on Tuesday and offered to work in the kitchen. She apparently has previous experience as a prep cook. Bernie has been improving since his surgery, but I don’t see him coming back to work any time soon. But with Mandy now filling Bernie’s spot on the schedule, I’m once again short in the dining room.
I’m not sure if that’s what she’s looking for, though.
“It’s waiting tables, though,” I tell her. “The kitchen is covered, so is the bar, but I don’t have enough servers.”
“That’s fine.”
“Okay. What do you have by way of experience?”
Not that it really matters, I wouldn’t dream of turning away a club wife when the club owns the damn restaurant, but since it appears to be important for Lea to do this under her own power, I’m going to treat her like any other applicant.
“Well, before I got pregnant with the boys, I worked part time at a diner in town. After they were born I stayed home, but I helped Momma out at the clubhouse a lot.”
I’ve heard about Momma. She ran the clubhouse before Lisa. She was Nosh’s wife and Yuma’s mother.
“If you can handle that clubhouse, I’m sure you can handle the dining room. There’s not much that changes about serving.”
“Actually, that’s my one concern. I’m not very computer savvy and from what I’ve seen everything is done on computers these days. Taking orders, taking payments. I’m being honest here, it intimidates me.”
I reach across the table and put a hand on her arm.
“That’s easily learned,” I reassure her, but she still wears a dubious expression. “And if not, it’s easy enough for Emme or Mack—that’s the other bartender—or me, whoever is handy, to put in your order for you. But I don’t think you need to worry about that, the system we have is very simple.”
“Simple is good.”
I smile back at her. “Drink up your coffee and we’ll head to my office and have a look at the schedule. When can you start?”
The dinner rush is just starting by the time she leaves with a few Backyard T-shirts and a printout of the new schedule with her name added. I watch her get into her SUV and am about to close the back door when I notice movement.
There, right at the edge of the parking lot, under the same trees. This time, though, there’s a security camera aimed in that direction.
I rush inside, pull up the feed on my computer, and dial the detective’s number.
Tse
“Where are you off to?”
I swing a leg over my bike.
“Backyard.”
Paco grins and shakes his head.
“You still chasing that piece?”
My knuckles turn white as I clench my hands around the handlebars.
“Her name is Sophia,” I grind out.
Not intimidated in the least, Paco laughs out loud.
“Guess that’s a yes.”
We just spent most of the day with Jed and some of his guys on Paco’s land, digging up the old septic tank, which has to be replaced. A job I never want to repeat in my life. I had to shampoo four fucking times before the stench was out of my hair and beard, and the smell is still stuck up my nostrils.
I’m already in a pissy mood and Paco is not helping.
We’re supposed to have the plans back from Jed’s architect after the weekend and Ouray has a contact with the city, who promised to expedite the permits we need. Fingers crossed, with a bit of luck we could be framing sometime next week.
I’ve had a few late nights helping Brick in the garage while Wapi held vigil at the restaurant, but tonight, come hell or high water, I’m heading to the Backyard, and not just because of the killer brisket.
There are a fair number of vehicles in the parking lot, but the one catching my attention is the police issue Explorer. It could mean nothing—maybe just a follow-up visit—but I quickly park my bike and rush inside anyway.
No sight of Sophia or the cops, but both the bartender—a pretty blonde covered in art—and a young waitress are leaning on the bar; their heads turned my way.
“Hey!” the blonde calls out when I walk right past them and start down the hall. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I look over my shoulder and see she’s followed me, a baseball bat in her hands. I almost laugh, the woman doesn’t even reach my chin, but her expression conveys she means business and I’m not about to test that.
“Here for Sophia. Name’s Tse.”
She tilts her head, scrutinizing me from the shades I pushed up on my head down to my boots.
“Yeah? That supposed to mean anything to me?”
I don’t bother fighting the grin; this is fun. I like this chick. She’s got balls.
“I’m her man.
I can see that shocks her but it doesn’t take long for her eyes to narrow to slits.
“Bullshit. Aside from the fact she’s never mentioned your name, you’re definitely not her type, and I’ve never
