by Beth Andrews
“We’ll be fine,” Layne continued. “And we’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re done.”
Sniffing, Celeste nodded. Started working on an order of raspberry/cream cheese stuffed French toast. “I know you will. It’s…it’s still such a shock. It’s stupid. She’s been gone all these years but…I still can’t believe Valerie is…dead.” The last came out just above a whisper.
They’d all agreed last night not to say anything about Valerie’s death to anyone outside the family until Tim got home. “It’s going to take some time to get used to,” Layne said.
Though even she could admit the thought of Valerie not being out there, somewhere, living and breathing and wreaking havoc on others’ lives, caused a pang—a small one—in her chest.
“Tim seemed to take it well.” Celeste dipped two thick slices of homemade bread into egg batter. “Don’t you think?”
“As well as can be expected,” she said carefully, not seeing any point in telling Celeste that when Layne had initially told her father last night, he’d sobbed like his heart was breaking. Breaking. Over the woman who’d cheated on him. Lied to him. Left him.
Not what his current girlfriend needed to hear. No matter that, at one time, Celeste had loved Valerie, too. The two women had been the best of friends since high school, had worked together at the Yacht Pub, a bar on the docks.
And how two such different females had created such a strong bond was beyond Layne.
“Well, I for one will— Jessica,” she said to someone behind Layne. “Right on time.”
Layne raised her eyebrows at the sight of Taylor’s niece standing inside the swinging doors. With her pale hair all shiny and wavy, the dark makeup on her eyes and her lips a glossy pink, she could’ve passed for at least eighteen.
Throw in those shorty-mcshort-shorts she wore and the deep V-neck of her clingy, white top showing some grown-up-size cleavage and Layne bumped that up to twenty-one. Twenty-two if you saw her from a distance.
The kid’s expression turned wary when she spotted Layne. “Hi,” Jess mumbled.
“What’s going on?” Layne asked Celeste.
“Jessica is my new waitress.” Celeste flipped the bread on the grill then sent Jessica a wink. “She had a very good reference.”
“That so?” Layne asked. She checked the time. “And you asked her to be here at eight forty? Strange time to start work, isn’t it?”
Jessica lifted her chin, her eyes defiant. “I had to walk. I didn’t think it would take as long as it did.”
“Your uncle couldn’t give you a ride?” Layne asked.
The kid’s mouth flattened, just like Ross’s did when he got irritated. “He wasn’t home.”
“That’s fine,” Celeste said, waving her arms as if erasing the time, Layne’s comments and the girl’s tardiness. “Come on in, honey, before you get smacked in the rear.”
Jessica’s mouth popped open. “You’re going to spank me for being a few minutes late?”
Celeste shook her head. “Wha—”
“The door,” Layne said, fighting laughter. She cleared her throat. “You’re going to get hit by the door if you don’t move.”
The kid’s face flamed red. “Oh,” she said, stepping forward.
“I’m afraid we’re swamped at the moment,” Celeste told Jessica. “Usually I ask one of the waitresses to take new hires around, show them where everything is and let them get comfortable before I toss them to the wolves, so to speak, but we’re shorthanded this morning.”
“I’ll do it,” Layne offered.
Celeste smeared sweetened cream cheese onto a slice of toasted bread, topped it with raspberry sauce and the second slice of bread. “Do you two know each other?”
Layne noticed Jess’s shoulders stiffen, as if waiting for a blow. Or for Layne to tell Celeste all about her new hire’s drunken debauchery from two nights ago.
“Not really,” Layne said, holding the kid’s gaze. “But we have met.”
“You don’t mind showing her around?” Celeste asked. “What about your appointment?”
“I have plenty of time.”
“I’m not sure… It’s been a long time since you worked here.”
“Has anything changed?”
Dusting powdered sugar over the toast, Celeste’s lips twitched. “We did get a new fryer back in ’05.”
“Well, there you go,” Layne said. “Changes galore.”
“Why fix something if it’s not broken? And the system here works.”
“It does. All of which I’ll explain to Jessica.”
“Thanks. It would help if she could get her paperwork filled out and you could at least show her around. Everything you’ll need is in the file cabinet under New Hires. When you’re done with Layne,” Celeste told Jess, “come on back here and we’ll give you a crash course in what your duties will be.”
Jessica shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”
“Pleasant little thing,” Layne said to Celeste under her breath. “She’ll be a huge hit with the patrons.”
“If I recall, you were one of my most popular waitresses. And no one’s ever accused you of being pleasant.”
“True. And on that note…” She faced Jess. “Come on. We’ll start in the office, go over a few laws and regulations.”
Jess followed Layne out of the kitchen, down the back hallway and into Celeste’s office. The cherry desk that had been Celeste’s grandfather’s when he captained a ship dominated the small room. Two narrow windows let in morning sunlight, framed articles about the café hung on the walls along with a portrait of Tim and Celeste taken a few years back and Layne and her sisters’ high school graduation photos.
“Take a seat,” Layne said, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. She crossed to the squat, metal filing cabinet. “So, does your uncle know you’re here?”
“I told you, he wasn’t home when I woke up.”
“But you left him a note?”
Scowling, Jess slid down in her seat. “He didn’t leave me one.”
So, that was it, huh? Jess obviously thought there was a double standard there and resented having to follow rules her uncle was exempt from.
Then again, maybe she was just pissed—and hurt—that her uncle didn’t care about her feelings enough to tell her where he was going.
Or, Layne mused, maybe Ross didn’t think of his niece often enough at all.
“Let’s try it this way.” Having found the folder she wanted, Layne closed the cabinet drawer, tossed the file onto the desk. “And this is one of those multiple choice questions where your choices are yes or no. Does your uncle know you’re starting work here?”
“He—”
“Yes? Or no?”
“Yes,” the kid ground out.
“Good.” She opened the file, pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Jess. “Fill these out. When you’re done we’ll take a little tour.”
Layne sat in Celeste’s chair while Jess went to work on filling out tax forms. She couldn’t help but wonder what the deal was between Ross and his niece. Thanks to his little pep talk last night, she knew why Jess lived with him but she still had little sense of their relationship other than it was strained. Had that always been the case? Or had Jess’s recent circumstances put her and her uncle at odds?
She was curious. With a bit of nosiness tossed in for good measure. Which was crazy. Not to mention hypocritical since Layne had hated when her family had been the subject of other people’s curiosity.
Thanks to her mother, they’d spent more than a year as the hot topic of local gossip, had endured more than their fair share of rumors. There’d been talk—there was always talk in a small town. But that didn’t make it right.
Didn’t make it hurt any less to be discussed and judged and whispered about.
So, no, Ross’s issues with his niece were none of her concern and certainly not her problem.
And when the hell had she started thinking of him as Ross?
&nbs
p; Pressing her forefingers against her eyes, she leaned back. She never should have touched him last night. What had started off as a casual, no-thought gesture had morphed into some crazy, summer-night-induced heated moment.
He’d wanted to kiss her. She’d seen the desire in his eyes. His need. For a moment she’d forgotten where she was, who she was. Who they were—chief and assistant chief—and what they had to remain to each other.
Worse, much worse was how much she’d wanted to kiss him, too.
Being a good cop means being able to keep your personal life and professional one separate.
Good advice. Layne had a feeling she’d better heed it.
* * *
JESS GAVE THE LAST COMPLETED form to the cop from the other night—the one with the Angelina Jolie body and badass attitude. The one Uncle Ross had made drive Jess home, who’d ended up having to help her into the house and up the stairs to her room because she’d been too drunk to make it there on her own.
Jess gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Good thing she didn’t care what anyone thought of her or she’d be humiliated right about now.
“Come on,” the cop said as she walked toward the door. “I’ll show you around, introduce you to everyone and give you the basics.”
Jess followed her back into the hallway. She’d told Jess to call her Layne—yeah, like that would happen. Bad enough she had to live with the top cop of this stupid town, she wasn’t about to be on a first-name basis with this one.
“Cleaning supply closet,” the cop said as they passed a closed door. “Employee bathroom,” she continued of the tiny room with the toilet and sink.
She veered off to the right and entered a decent-size room. There was a square table, several chairs, a TV on the counter and row of small lockers—like the ones the school here used for gym class—against the wall.
“This is the break room/locker room. Celeste will give you a locker where you can store your stuff—purse, cash…” She shrugged. “Whatever. There’s no smoking at all in the building so if you feel the need to light up—”
“I don’t smoke.”
“No skin off my nose whether you do or don’t. They’re your lungs. But if you do, do it outside.”
Jess narrowed her eyes. What kind of game was this chick playing? She’d sworn to uphold the law and all that crap. Of course she cared whether some teenager smoked or not. She probably staked out convenience stores wearing a stupid hat and sunglasses so she could bust some clerk for selling tobacco to an underage kid.
“I don’t smoke,” Jess repeated, not because it mattered to her what some small-town cop thought of her. She just didn’t like people judging her. That’s all. “It’s stupid.”
“Agreed.”
And…that was it. She didn’t go on, didn’t mention how Jess hadn’t seemed to think drinking until she puked and having sex with some guy out in the middle of the woods was stupid, so why not go ahead and suck on a nicotine stick?
She didn’t act like Jess expected her to.
Who could blame Jess for not trusting her?
“Put your hair back,” Layne said, “and we’ll go over a few things in the dining room before I take you back into the kitchen.”
Lifting a hand to her head, Jess frowned. “Put it back? Do you know how long it took me to get it this way?” It’d taken her the better part of an hour to curl it, spray it and curl it again so it looked like the waves were easy and effortless. “It’s perfect.”
Layne—okay, so maybe Jess would use her first name, but only in her head—nodded, her own dark, silky hair pulled back into a French braid that reached the middle of her back. “Yeah, it’s pretty. However, anyone with hair shoulder-length or longer must wear it pulled back when working with or near food. So…pull it back.”
Damn. “I don’t have any hair bands,” she lied, as there were a few, along with half a dozen bobby pins, scattered at the bottom of her bag.
“In that case, we’ll have to hunt you up a pretty little hairnet.”
Jess blanched.
Layne laughed. “I’m kidding. Just pull it up. It’ll be fine.”
She played with the strap of her bag. “I…” What the hell? She’d always believed it better to stick to the bulk of the truth. Made it easier to make up stories. “There’s this guy…”
Layne’s eyebrows shot up. “Nate?”
Fidgeting, Jess stared at the floor. “No. Just…a guy I met. He said he might stop by the restaurant today.” And she was an idiot, telling some stranger about Anthony. An even bigger one for spending so much time and energy getting ready for him. He probably wouldn’t even show, despite what he’d said last night when he’d called her.
Why would a guy like him—rich, charming and gorgeous—waste time chasing after her?
“Never mind. It’s no big,” Jess said, digging through her bag until she found a neon pink hair band. Bending forward, she gathered her hair at the top of her head, wrapped the band around it and straightened.
Layne covered her mouth with her hand. Snorted out a laugh.
“What?” Not seeing any appropriately reflective surfaces, she crossed the hall to the bathroom. She shut her eyes with a groan at her reflection in the mirror, but the memory remained.
Her hair, so stiff with hair spray it could poke an eye out, stuck out at odd angles from the band. Opening her eyes, she took the band out, combed her fingers through her hair again and smoothed it back into the band, but it did no good.
She looked like a reject from a Lady Gaga video.
Layne stepped into the room, her reflection joining Jess’s in the mirror. “It’s not that bad.”
“I thought cops weren’t allowed to lie.”
“I think that’s priests.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jess murmured, refusing to let herself feel disappointed over some guy she barely even knew. Besides, Anthony should like her for who she is, not her looks.
She rolled her eyes at her reflection. What a colossally dumb thing to think. Her looks were all she had going for herself. Boys paid attention to her because she had a pretty face, big boobs and had recently begun giving them what they wanted.
Facing Layne, Jess cocked her hip and silently dared her to make another comment about her hair. “You ready?”
Layne searched her face. Jess smirked. So, the lady cop wanted to try to figure her out, huh? Good luck with that.
After a long moment, Layne muttered, “Oh, for the love of… Take the band out.”
“You just told me to put it in.”
Layne didn’t even blink at her bitchiness. “And now I’m telling you to take it out.” When Jess didn’t move, Layne made a hurry-up gesture with her hand. “Come on, come on. I don’t have all morning.”
Jess reached back, pulled the band off. Grown-ups. They were so weird. And bossy.
“Tip your head to the left a bit,” Layne said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to braid your hair.”
Jess leaped back. “That is super creepy.”
“It’s unusual, I’ll give you that. But the door is open and you can scream at any time you feel uncomfortable.”
“Uh…you mean like now?”
“I guarantee you I can make it a whole lot better than the Frankenstein ponytail you had. Plus, when you take out the braid, your hair will still be wavy. What’s the problem?”
Problem? Nothing much except that she hadn’t had anyone else touch her hair in years. Her mom used to. When Jess had been little, she’d sit on her mom’s lap while Heather pulled a brush through her waist-length hair. Her mom would brush it and brush it, her touch so gentle as she ran her hand down the long strands, her voice soothing as she told Jess about her plans. Her dreams.
That was what love felt like. When her mother got out the brush and patted her knee, Jess knew where she belonged. That she was wanted.
Until getting high became the most important thing in Heather’s life. More important than those big pla
ns she’d had. More important than her daughter. And Jess had learned to take care of herself.
Layne was a cop. Sure, she’d seemed kind of cool when she’d stood up to Uncle Ross at the quarry that night but that didn’t mean Jess could trust her.
“The offer’s expiring in ten seconds,” Layne said. “Ten…nine…”
“Okay, okay.” Jess faced the mirror, tipped her head to the side. “God. Are you always this impatient?”
“Only when I have things to do. So…yeah. Pretty much all the time.”
Jess held her breath, her shoulders tense but there was no painful tugging. No pulling. Layne’s fingers were gentle and cool as she tucked the hair below Jess’s right temple behind her ear, then separated a small, upper section into three parts and started braiding.
It was kind of…nice. So nice that for a few minutes, Jess let herself enjoy having someone do something for her without wanting anything in return.
“Is that lady…the owner…is she your mother?” she asked when Layne had reached the end of the braid.
“Hand me that hair band, would you?” Layne asked. Jess did so and Layne wrapped it around the end of her hair. “That lady’s name,” she continued, “is Celeste and no. She’s my father’s girlfriend.”
Switching sides, Layne started a second braid.
“Are you going to tell her…Celeste…about the other night?” Jess blurted. Only because she didn’t want to get in trouble her first day on the job. Not because she felt bad about getting busted. Or was embarrassed by what she’d done.
Layne gently nudged Jess’s head up. “What do you think I am? Some kind of narc?”
“I’m pretty sure narc spelled backward is C-O-P.”
“Do you want me to tell Celeste?”
“I don’t care if you do,” she said, sounding defensive and bratty even to her own ears. “I’d just like to know.”
Nothing good ever came out of a surprise.
“Like being prepared for the worst, huh?” Layne asked in a soft, compassionate tone that made Jess’s stomach feel funny.
“Something like that,” she muttered.
Layne stayed quiet for so long, Jess didn’t think she was going to answer.