by Freya Barker
“In a good way, I hope?”
“A little scary, a little sad, but yeah, for the most part.”
He reaches and grabs my free hand in his. I love the feel of his callused palm against my soft one.
“Are you talking about the baby that never was?” he asks gently.
My smile for him is a little wobbly but determined.
“Mmm. But I was mostly thinking about the way I’ve thrown caution to the wind at every opportunity, when I’ve always been so careful. So responsible.” I snort. “My parents will be thrilled.”
Gah…my parents.
They’re supposed to be here tomorrow, but weren’t sure when. When I mentioned I might be working, they told me not to worry, that they had everything they needed in their RV and would wait until I got home.
I have no idea how long they intend to stay. They visited me in Denver all of two times in the years I’d been there. They hated the city and stayed for only two days each time. This place is much more up their alley. Durango is more relaxed, quaint, and they’d definitely love it up here where they can be one with nature.
“What time are Blossom and Duff gonna get here?”
“They didn’t say. Also, my parents’ names are really Maria and Gustavo Vieira,” I explain. “They got caught up in the seventies. Moved into a commune on the edge of the Tonto National Forest, about two hours east of Phoenix, when they were barely of legal age, and changed their names. They still live there, like some of the other die-hards, although things have evolved some since the seventies. They don’t call them communes anymore, but eco-villages.”
“You were born in a commune?”
He seems stumped and I can’t help laugh.
“We all were, and let me tell you, it’s a miracle there aren’t ten of us. They were already thirty by the time they had my sister, and my brother was a surprise baby at forty-two. He’s twenty-five and lives in Vegas.”
“So, I’m surprised they gave you such a classic name.”
“Dad says I was named for Sophia Loren, his lifelong crush. Bianca was for Mick Jagger’s wife—big Rolling Stone fans, my parents—and Arlo was for—”
“Arlo Guthrie,” Tse guesses, interrupting me. “I’m starting to see the pattern.”
“Right. The irony is, despite our somewhat eccentric upbringing, all three of us lived up to our more conventional names. Although, I’m arguably the most straightlaced of the bunch. At least I used to be. Hence my earlier point that my parents will be over the moon to see I’ve wandered off the beaten path.”
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.
“You mean living here. Out in the boonies.”
I glance over at him, taking in his messy hair, unkempt beard, and tattoos peeking out of his shirt and covering his hands. I’m expecting over the moon may not sufficiently describe my parents’ reaction when they meet Tse. Heck, even his name will go over well.
“That, plus the fact one look at you will have my mother convinced, after years of being a devout atheist, there is a God after all.”
Tse
“Make sure to keep an eye on him. Don’t want him taking off.”
“He won’t.”
I hand over the pop and the small box of donut holes I picked up for him and watch as the dog follows Ravi to the wheelbarrow in the driveway. Paco had a load of gravel hauled in this morning to take care of the worst of the potholes and ruts left behind from all the recent traffic. He eventually wants it asphalted or something, but for now is content to keep it as level as possible. Ravi was given that task.
I just got back from dropping Sophia at the restaurant. I’ve only been gone maybe half an hour but already I can see progress. Yuma and Honon are perched on the ridge—the beam bridging the roof rafters, hammering down sheathing—while Paco and Ouray measure and cut the next piece.
Ouray must’ve arrived while I was gone. He looks up when I approach with the tray of coffees and box of donuts I picked up in town. I whistle to the guys on the roof and hold it up before setting it on the stack of lumber beside the saw.
“You can grab mine. Didn’t know you were coming.”
I offer Ouray my coffee, but he shakes his head.
“I’m not staying long. Was just checking the progress.”
I open the box of donuts and grab one, shoving half of it in my mouth.
“All quiet at the restaurant?” he asks.
“As far as I know. Why?”
“Luna just called. Feds picked up another dealer last night and not too long ago they intercepted the truck driver and took him in for questioning. Not much to report on the supplier side yet, but they’re shutting down the setup. There weren’t any drugs on the truck again this morning. Luna says they figure somehow the supplier got wind of the operation and pulled the plug. Maybe setting up shop elsewhere.”
I take a drink of my coffee and consider what this means.
“I’d have felt better if they got those guys as well,” I confess. “No sign of that Bernie guy?”
“Gone to ground from what I hear. The sister too.”
“So what happens with the girl? The one in the kitchen, Mandy?”
“That’s actually what Luna was calling about. They’re recommending she stay away from the Backyard Edge and are looking into getting her set up near her sister.”
“That’s gonna leave Sophia short a server as well as a cook. Again,” I grumble, because the FBI agent who’d been working every night this week was hustling as hard as everyone else was yesterday.
“I’m aware, brother, so is Luna. I’ve got one of the part-time line cooks from the Brewer’s Pub coming in tomorrow, and we can shuffle the shifts there and at the Backyard to make sure both businesses are covered. At least temporarily, giving us time to find replacements.”
I glance over at Ravi who is dropping a shovel of gravel into a rut, stomping it down with his feet. Van is lying in a patch of grass off to the side, his snout resting on his crossed front paws, watching the boy.
“Timing sucks,” I point out. “Sophia’s parents are coming to visit. Arriving tomorrow.”
“So get her to take some time,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Gonna be a tough sell now. She’d never go for it.”
Ouray claps me on the shoulder and grins.
“Then you’ve gotta get creative in finding a way to convince her.”
Easier said than done.
It’s still on my mind when I sidle up to the bar that night.
Emme walks over and sets a draft in front of me. I don’t even have to ask anymore.
The place is busy again. Not quite like last night, but two tables and all the booths are taken, so staff is hustling.
“Food?” Emme asks.
“Got any left?”
“I can check with the kitchen,” she says and darts out from behind the bar, leaving just Mack behind it, who lifts his chin in greeting.
Sophia, who was chatting with a couple on the far side of the dining room when I walked in, cozies up to me, lifting her face for a kiss.
“How are things?”
“A little crazy. Luna was here earlier to pick up Mandy and brought a temporary replacement for her. Luckily Emme was willing to jump in again, even though she wasn’t on the schedule for today. She says she can do with the extra pay.” She shakes her head. “I can’t keep up.”
“Talked to Ouray earlier,” I volunteer. “He filled me in. I’m sure we’ll be able to fill those spots before next weekend.”
“I sure hope so.”
A group of four comes in and Sophia rushes over to greet and seat them.
“How does half a rack of beef ribs sound?” Emme wants to know as she slides back behind the bar.
“Sounds good to me.”
I watch as she grabs empties off the bar and rinses them in the sink.
“Emme?”
She looks over. “Yeah?”
“Sophia’s saying you’re looking to make a few
extra bucks?”
“Always,” she answers with a grimace.
I’m sure there’s a story there, but it’s not my place to pry.
“I wanna run something by you.”
CHAPTER 20
Tse
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you did that behind my back.”
Sophia isn’t taking too well to the fact I’ve arranged for Emme to work overtime so Fee can take some extra time off. All she has to do is go in for a few hours to do the paperwork but her dining room responsibilities Emme will take care of.
“Been a tough couple of weeks, Fee. On top of that, your parents are showing up today. You need some downtime.”
She pulls her feet from my lap and gets up, waking Van who’d been snoozing on the deck beside us. We’d been enjoying an early morning coffee on the deck, as we’ve taken to doing this past week, when I mentioned the arrangement I worked out with Emme last night.
“And you think this is a good time? The restaurant is crazy busy and I have new staff to hire because we’re shorthanded. There are a million and one things I need to take care of, Tse,” she says, clearly agitated as her hands gesture wildly. “Yes, I know my parents will be here, but I haven’t even put a full three months in. I can’t start taking vacation, because they suddenly decide, out of the blue, they need to come see me.”
Clearly she’s not happy. Tough.
I grab at one of her flailing hands and give it a small tug, tumbling her onto my lap. She immediately struggles to get back to her feet but can’t because my arms are holding her in place.
“You can’t just call the shots for me,” she sputters, giving up her struggle. “I’m a grown woman.”
“No mistaking that, Fee.”
Even my body recognizes that fact, having risen to the occasion with her ass wiggling on my lap. It’s been a frustratingly long week and I have a serious case of blue balls by now.
“I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions,” she continues.
“Aware of that too,”
“Are you? Because this is starting to feel familiar, I’ve been there, done that, and am pretty sure I don’t wanna go down that road again.”
Now I’m pissed.
I release my hold and she scrambles off my lap. I get to my feet as well and poor Van, sensing trouble brewing, is looking from one to the other as we face each other.
“You comparing me to that asshole ex of yours?” I challenge her.
She cocks a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “If the shoe fits.”
I close the distance between us and bend my neck so I’m almost nose to nose with her. Those eyes are shooting fire.
“Not interested in controlling you, Sophia.”
“Could’a fooled me,” she scoffs, refusing to back down.
Despite the urge to shake some sense into her, I appreciate her moxie. She’s standing up for herself and I admire her for it. She may have a temper, but then so do I.
Suddenly the anger drains from me and I step away. I grab my mug from the floor and head for the house. Sliding the back door open, I stop and turn to where she’s still standing, Van now sitting at her feet, still confused about the energy he must sense.
“Not cool comparing me to that bastard,” I say in a calmer tone. “Not fair either. There’s a world of difference between being controlling and trying to look after someone you care about.”
Without waiting for a response, I head inside and grab a refill, taking my fresh cup upstairs to hit the shower. It’s that, or hop on my bike I collected earlier this week, and take off. Can’t do that and leave her alone, so a shower it is.
By the time I step out, my coffee is only lukewarm, my balls are a little lighter, and my head is a lot cooler. I’ve also come to the realization I could’ve handled that better, especially given the history she entrusted me with. The accusation I’m anything like her ex still burns, though.
I pull some jeans and a clean shirt from my duffel on the floor of her closet, pick up the dirty clothes I’ve been tossing beside it and add it to her laundry basket. Then I carry the whole thing downstairs, noticing she’s still outside, back in her chair, with the dog on the deck beside her.
Her laundry room is more like a closet, and located under the stairs. It takes me a minute to sort out the light colors first and I make sure to check the labels. Back at the clubhouse I’d shove everything in at the same time, but I have a feeling Sophia wouldn’t appreciate her pretty white lace underwear getting mixed in with my work jeans and dirty socks.
The machine takes a little figuring out, but a few minutes later I have it going. I back out of the small space at the same time Sophia walks in the back door. Her face is blotchy and red.
Fuck.
I hate when she cries.
Taking a few steps toward her, she lifts her hands defensively, stopping me in my tracks.
“I’m a mess,” she says, and promptly tears start rolling down her face. “I’m sorry, I’m PMSing hard. I usually get cranky but I’ve never turned into a bitch before. I’m not this person.”
“Fee, baby…”
That’s all it takes for her to walk right into my arms, wrapping hers tightly around my waist.
_______________
Shit. That figures.
An old, ugly motor home is parked in front of the house when I turn onto the driveway.
When her parents hadn’t showed up by midday, and her mother wasn’t answering her phone, Sophia suggested she head into the restaurant for a couple of hours to prepare orders and do payroll for the week. She wanted me to stay home in case her parents showed up, and I didn’t want her to go alone. We compromised. I dropped her off at the Backyard and headed right back up the mountain.
Looks like they arrived shortly after we left.
I pull in beside their vehicle and get out, hearing Van’s furious barking from inside, but before I can take a step a woman comes flying around the side of the house.
“I thought I heard a car!”
She’s short. Shorter even than Luna, who may be tough as nails but barely makes it up to my chin. This woman is all soft, though. Smiling round face, comfortably plump body, and covered literally head to toe in yards of colorful, flowing fabric. A few stray graying curls escape the shawl wrapped artfully around her head. She looks like a benign fortune-teller.
“Blossom?”
She stops right in front of me, tilting her head way back.
“That’s right, and I recognize your voice. I was right; you’re a big one. Sophia never told me your name, though.”
“Tse, ma’am.”
I stick out my hand but instead of grabbing it, she wags her index finger at me.
“Good name, but you dare ma’am me again and we’re gonna have issues,” she scolds me, and it’s all I can do to keep from laughing.
Sophia may not have inherited her mother’s looks, but I’d recognize that attitude anywhere.
“So noted,” I mutter, trying to keep a straight face.
“Good. Now, Tse…please tell me that’s Navajo?”
“Name is, but I’m not. At least not that I know of.”
“Means rock, did you know that?”
“I did, ma…Blossom,” I quickly correct myself when her eyes narrow.
“Good name for you. Fitting. Sophia at work?” She jumps from one subject to the next without taking a breath.
“Just for a few hours.”
She smiles big.
“Excellent, that’ll give Duff and me a chance to get to know you. He’s in the back checking out the yard.” With that she turns and starts walking to the rear, calling over her shoulder, “Well, come on then. You can introduce us to that sweet puppy.”
Forgot about Van, although sweet puppy isn’t quite the description I’d have picked for him. I tell her I’ll go in the front and she raises her hand in acknowledgement.
This has to be the weirdest fucking encounter I’ve had. I feel like I just got run over by a bulldozer.
&nbs
p; The two hours until I’m supposed to pick up Sophia suddenly feel like an eternity.
Sophia
“You were looking for me?”
Chris is standing in the doorway.
“Yes, have a seat. Oh, and close the door.”
I’d gone looking for him earlier, but Lauren mentioned he’d stepped outside again.
He hesitates for a fraction before he walks in, shuts the door, and sits down across from me.
“What’s up?” His tone is almost defensive. “I’ve got to get back to my kitchen.”
“Won’t be long,” I placate him. “I understand Agent Gomez spoke to you this morning as well?”
Gomez was around when I got here earlier, talking to some of the staff. I’d been pissed at first he’d go ahead without me there, but he calmly told me Ouray had been informed.
“Yes,” is his curt answer. “Drugs in my kitchen. Still don’t see how something like that could’ve been kept from me.”
I shrug. “That wasn’t my call to make, Chris. It does leave us with staffing issues now business is picking up.”
He harrumphs, looking at me impatiently.
“I was hoping to get your input. At least for kitchen staff. Know any good line cooks? Maybe even two. Have any ideas?”
His expression mellows a fraction.
“Not off the top of my head, no, but I’ve got some connections. I can ask around.”
“That would be great. Let me know.”
“Sure.” He stares at me for a few beats. “Was that all?”
It had been all, but now I have him here…
“Actually, is everything all right with you?”
I can almost see his hackles go up.
“Why? Someone complain?”
“No complaints, just my observation. You seem…a bit sharper than your usual self.”
His eyes drift over my shoulder to the small window over my credenza. It’s too high to get any kind of view, but at least it lets in some daylight, otherwise this office would be a dark dungeon.
“It’s Rick.”
I wait. I have no idea who Rick is, since Chris doesn’t talk about anything other than pertaining to the restaurant. When it looks like nothing more is forthcoming—he seems lost in thought—I finally prompt him.