by Jane Graves
“No!”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. Of course I’m sure!”
“Because if you’re that easily swayed, maybe you never should have left. Maybe you need to be married to a man who’ll tell you what to do.”
“I do not!”
“I’m not seeing much evidence of that.”
“Hey! I left my own wedding, didn’t I?”
“Leaving was easy. Going back and taking care of yourself. That’s what’s hard.”
Kari pursed her lips, hating the way that sounded, mostly because he was right. But she knew in her heart it was a mistake to return to Houston. No matter what Marc said about people getting on board with what she wanted if only she spoke up, she was still afraid she’d fall back into her same patterns all over again where she let everybody else’s opinion matter except hers.
“And do you know how you make sure you succeed?” Marc went on. “You burn your boats. What that means is—”
“I know what it means. Alexander the Great. The Persian War. After they landed on the enemy’s shore, he burned their own boats so they couldn’t fall back. They had to win the battle.”
“I thought you were a lit major.”
“Like nobody ever wrote a book about that?”
“As I was saying,” Marc said, “if you burn your boats, you have no choice but to fight to the death.”
“Oh, that’s uplifting.”
“Go home. Get face-to-face with your father. Quit your job if he hasn’t fired you already. Burn your boats. That way you have no choice but to succeed on your own.”
Rosie swept back by their table again. She was a forty-something woman with short brown hair and a pot of coffee in her hand. According to Marc, she wasn’t a waitress. She owned the place. And she looked even more frazzled than she had the last time she stopped by their table.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” Rosie said.
Marc looked at Kari. She shook her head. The double cheeseburger she’d just inhaled would probably hold her for a week.
“We’re good,” Marc said.
Rosie turned to Boo. “How about you, sweetie?”
When Boo’s ears perked up, she reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a dog biscuit. She laid it on the vinyl seat beside him, and he snapped it up. That was the third one she’d given him from what she called Rosie’s Bottomless Basket of Doggy Biscuits.
“You’re getting slammed today,” Marc said.
“Two tourist buses,” Rosie said. “Good for business, but Jolene quit to stay home with her baby.”
“Hard to find good help?”
“First I have to get a few applicants. All I’ve had was one woman who wanted to bring her three children to work with her. Three dogs I’d consider. Three kids—no.”
“I hear you. Harvest is coming up soon. I never can get enough good help.”
“If I hear of somebody who wants to pick grapes, I’ll send them your way.”
As Rosie hurried away, Kari said, “I couldn’t take the bus even if I wanted to. After I pay Gus for the room, I probably won’t even have enough money left for bus fare.”
Marc reached into his wallet, pulled out two twenties, and tossed them on the table. “That’ll cover it.”
She flashed him a tiny smile. “Gee, you must really want to get rid of me.”
“It’s just what needs to happen. You’ll be glad you went back.” He paused. “Assuming you stand up for yourself.”
That hit Kari harder than she would have imagined. Marc clearly had no faith in her ability to stand up to anyone. In fact, she’d been nothing but a gigantic pain in the ass to him since the moment she arrived, and she was pretty sure the only thing he wanted to see of her was her face in the window of that bus as she headed out of town. Just thinking about that made her miserable, and tears burned behind her eyes.
No. Don’t cry. Damn it, don’t you cry!
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she said. “Will you please watch Boo?”
Before he could say anything, she scooted out of the booth and hurried toward the ladies’ room, where she grabbed a paper towel and dabbed her eyes. All her life her father had treated her as if she was at best a helpless relative he had to support, and at worst a rock around his neck he wished he could rid himself of forever. But right now something made her feel even worse. She sensed that Marc felt exactly the same way about her that her father did. And for some reason she didn’t fully understand, his respect was something she wanted to have.
Kari heard the door open. She turned to see Rosie come into the ladies’ room. She saw Kari’s face and stopped short. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kari said.
“Yeah? In my experience, nobody cries for nothing.”
Kari almost said, My whole life sucks, but she swallowed the words before they could pop out. She’d just listened to Marc tell her it was time to take control of her own life. Whining didn’t seem to fit into that new paradigm he was trying to acquaint her with.
“I’m just having a little setback,” Kari said.
“Sorry to hear that, sweetie. I take it you’re a friend of Marc’s?”
“Yes,” she said, because what was a friend, anyway? Somebody you went to when you were having a problem and needed help? He’d given her plenty of help last night, hadn’t he?
“Don’t worry, then,” Rosie said. “He’ll help you out, whatever your problem is. He’s good like that.”
But he wants me to go back to Houston, and I’m scared to!
As Rosie headed to one of the stalls, Kari stood helplessly by the sink, knowing she should go back out to the restaurant. But the moment she did, Marc would pay the bill, shove the money for bus fare at her again, and tell her to hit the road.
A minute later, the toilet flushed, and Rosie came out of the stall. She went to the sink to wash her hands. Kari washed her hands, too, so she wouldn’t look as if she was loitering in the bathroom, even though she was. After they both dried their hands, Rosie headed for the door, and Kari wanted to cry all over again. She obviously couldn’t stay in Rainbow Valley with no place to live, no job…
Wait a minute. Job?
“Rosie?”
Rosie turned back. “Yeah?”
Kari’s mind was spinning in a direction she wasn’t sure was the right one, but she followed it, anyway.
“Didn’t you say you have a job opening for a waitress?”
“Yes.”
“That’s part of my setback,” she said. “I need a job.”
Rosie walked a few steps back toward her. “Yeah? Have you ever waited tables?”
“Well…no.”
“Kids?”
“Just the four-legged kind.”
“Do you live in Rainbow Valley?”
“I’m relocating. That’s why I need a job. Would you consider hiring somebody with no experience?”
“Most of the time I have to. Experienced waitresses are tough to find. But it’s hard work.” Rosie looked her up and down. “Sure you don’t mind getting your hands dirty?”
She started to tell Rosie she’d been way dirtier than this as recently as last night. Instead she said, “Nope. I don’t mind at all.”
“The hours suck. Morning shift starts at six a.m., and the evening shift goes until eight at night.”
“That’s fine.”
Rosie looked unsure for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. If you’re a friend of Marc’s, you’re hired. But only on a trial basis. That’s the way I do it with everybody who goes to work for me. Most people don’t realize just how hard waiting tables is, and most of them wash out.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t hold your breath on that, sweetie. Let’s see how it goes first. Once you and Marc are through with lunch, come see me and you can fill out the paperwork. What’s your name?”
“Kari Worthington. Can you tell me what the job pays?”
Rosie quoted an impossibly sm
all hourly rate, and Kari’s heart sank.
“But I have waitresses who make decent livings from tips alone,” Rosie said. “It’s all about the hustle.”
With that, she left the bathroom, and Kari turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Okay. How hard could it be to wait tables? All you had to do was ask people what they wanted and then go get it for them. No, it didn’t pay much, but right now she needed just enough to keep body and soul together until she could figure out what to do next.
Marc sat at the table glaring at the rag mop, and the rag mop stared back. Then slowly the dog turned to look at Kari’s plate. He’d already grabbed one french fry when Marc wasn’t looking. No way was that happening again.
“Don’t you even think about it,” Marc said.
He inched closer.
“Hey.”
Closer still.
“Hey!”
The dog recoiled, retreating to the corner of the booth, where he turned to look back at Marc. Marc sighed. Of course Kari would have a dog as undisciplined as she was.
“Hey, Marc. I didn’t know you were coming here for lunch.”
He turned around to see Nina approaching the table. Oh, crap.
She slid into the booth across from Marc, only to stop short when she saw the rag mop. “Oops…what’s this?”
“A dog.”
“I wasn’t asking for species identification. Whose dog is it?”
Marc didn’t want to go there. He just didn’t. “Kari’s.”
“Kari? Who’s Kari?”
“I’m Kari.”
Marc winced at the sound of her voice. He gave her a quick glance, then turned back to Nina, who already had a calculating look on her face. Oh, this was going to be just great.
“Ah,” Nina said. “You wouldn’t happen to be the woman who had an accident last night while you were wearing a bridal gown, would you?”
Kari smiled. “Yeah. That’s me.”
Nina held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Nina. Marc’s sister.”
Kari shook her hand. “Kari Worthington.”
“And who’s this?” Nina said, scratching Boo behind the ears.
“His name’s Boo.”
“Well, hello there, Boo. Aren’t you a sweet puppy?” Then Nina turned to Marc. “Hey!”
“What?”
“Will you shove over and let Kari sit down?”
“She was sitting over there.”
“I can sit over here now,” Kari said. “I’m finished with lunch.”
Marc let out a breath and moved over. Kari squeezed into the booth beside him. Even in a place filled with the scents of Texas home cooking, he could smell her. He didn’t know if it was soap or shampoo or perfume, but it was as if somebody had stuck a bouquet of flowers in the seat next to him. He wasn’t a flowery kind of guy, but that girlie smell got his attention every time, especially when it was radiating from a body like Kari’s.
And she’s nothing but drama, drama, drama, he reminded himself. You don’t need that.
“Nina? Who’s at the shop?”
“Rupert got there early. He scheduled a special wine tasting with one of the tour groups coming through today. Did you see the buses?”
“Yeah. I saw the buses.”
“So…,” Nina said, “you two are having lunch?”
She put a great big question mark on the end of her sentence, asking for more information, but no information was ever enough for his sister, so why even go there?
“We were just leaving,” Marc said. “Kari has a bus to catch.”
“No bus,” Kari said, smiling brightly. “Change of plan.”
“What change of plan?” Marc asked.
“I’m not going back to Houston. I have a job now.”
Marc stared at her dumbly. “You what?”
“I have a job. I’m working here. Rosie hired me.”
“When did that happen?”
“In the ladies’ room.”
“Let me get this straight. You went into the ladies’ room and came out with a job?”
“That’s right.”
“Have you ever waited tables before?”
“No, but I’ve eaten in a lot of restaurants.”
“Rosie!” Marc called out.
Rosie turned at the sound of his voice, then came to their booth.
“Did you just give her a job?” Marc asked.
“Yeah.”
“Just like that?”
“I need a waitress, and nobody else is beating down my door for the job.”
“Did you check her references?”
“References don’t mean squat. People fake them. And even if they’re real, all an employer will give you are the dates of employment, and that’s about it. I’d rather just try somebody out on the job. Besides, I figured if she was with you, then she’s okay.”
Great. Just for once, Marc wished he had a crappy reputation.
Rosie turned to Nina. “What can I get you?”
“A BLT and sweet tea.”
“Coming up.”
As Rosie walked away, Marc said, “The job can’t pay anything.”
“Rosie said I could do pretty well with tips if I hustle,” Kari said.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a waitress? Particularly on the weekends when the tourists pack this place out?”
“Hey! You gave me a big lecture about how I have no backbone and I can’t take care of myself. So now that I’m trying to take care of myself, you’re giving me a hard time. So which is it?”
“You gave her a lecture?” Nina said.
“Advice,” Marc snapped. “Good advice.” He turned back to Kari. “Okay, so you’ve got a job. Now what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where are you going to live?”
“I’ll rent an apartment.”
“With what? You have no money.”
“You have no money?” Nina said.
“Long story,” Kari said.
Actually, it wasn’t long at all. Her father was as big an asshole as her ex-fiancé, but the last thing Marc wanted to do was launch into that.
Kari’s smile faded. “Do you suppose there are any landlords in town who might be willing to postpone a deposit?”
“What kind of businesspeople would they be if they did?” Marc said. “Then there’s your first and last month’s rent. And everybody might love animals around here, but that doesn’t stop them from collecting a pet deposit.”
Her smile disappeared altogether. “Oh. Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Silence.
Boo put his paws on the table and whimpered. Nina handed him over to Kari, who snuggled him against her chest and looked forlorn.
“Well, there is another option,” Nina said.
“What?” Marc said.
“Let her stay in the cottage at the vineyard.”
Marc came to attention, shaking his head. “No. We don’t rent the cottage.”
“I didn’t say you should rent it to her. Just let her stay there until she gets a deposit together for an apartment.” She looked at Kari. “It’s not much. Just a tiny studio. There’s not even a bedroom. Just a pull-out sofa. A microwave, a sink, and a small fridge. Bathroom with a shower.”
“Sounds perfect,” Kari said, then turned to look at Marc with a hopeful expression. He could have shot Nina.
“No,” Marc said. “You’re not staying there.”
“Just until she gets on her feet,” Nina said.
“I don’t want anyone staying in the cottage right now.”
“Oh, come on, Marc,” Nina said. “You’ve let other people stay there over the years.”
“I said no.” Marc turned to Kari, nodding at his phone. “I checked the schedule. The bus leaves in less than an hour. If you’ll let Gus know you’re heading to the bus station, he’ll arrange for somebody to pick up your luggage.” He grabbed up the two twenties and held them out to her.
Kari glanced at Nina, who looked at Marc with an
irritated frown, then turned away. Finally Kari took the money, her face falling into misery all over again. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” she said to Marc. “I don’t blame you for not being able to do more.”
He should have been happy about that. So why did it make him feel like crap?
“Will you give me your address so I can return the money to you later?” she asked.
“No need.”
“No. I insist.”
“Cordero Vineyards, Rainbow Valley, Texas. It’ll get there.”
Kari nodded, looking even more forlorn than before, and her sad, defeated expression almost made him change his mind. But he couldn’t give in. How was she supposed to stand up to her father if she didn’t return to Houston? He had to hold his ground. No matter what Nina thought, it was best for all concerned. It was.
Wasn’t it?
“Well, then,” Kari said. “I guess I’d better be going.” She turned to Nina. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Nina said. “You be careful now.”
Kari rose from the booth, put her purse over her shoulder, and she and her disorderly little dog went up to speak to Rosie. Then Marc watched out of the corner of his eye as she left the café and disappeared down the street.
Nina sat back and eyed Marc carefully. “That wasn’t like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve let all kinds of people stay in that cottage over the years. Last fall after the wildfire, you let that man and his wife who lost their house stay there for a whole month. So why not let Kari stay? Is it really that big a deal?”
“I don’t even know her.”
“You didn’t know that man and his wife, either, yet you stepped right up to help them.”
“They had a problem through no fault of their own. Kari left her fiancé at the altar and ran. If she’d confronted her problem instead of running, she wouldn’t have ended up here.”
“Not everybody is like you, Marc. Confrontation is hard for some people. Kari’s as sweet as she can be. Why won’t you help her?”
“You offered her the cottage without even asking me,” Marc said.
“I had no idea it would be a problem.”
“And then I was the one who had to say no.”
“So say yes instead.”