by Mary Behre
So why weren’t more people here? The food was excellent as was the décor.
Whoever had thought to use a Victorian-style house as a restaurant had been a genius. Instead of one large room, the first floor of the building was sectioned off into four eating areas and a kitchen. Glass French doors separated the rooms, making it simple to see all of the customers while still offering a bit of privacy.
The Boxing Cat was as charming inside as it had been outside. Tiny bistro tables draped in antique-style lace tablecloths lined the front windows. The dishes and the cutlery were mismatched. The hodgepodge of pieces appeared intentional and added an old-world feel to the place. Against one of the Nantucket blue walls was a large hutch.
The waitress, with caramel-colored skin, a short cap of curly black hair, and light brown eyes, hitched up her hip and half-stood, half-sat on a lower shelf. The blond man, who looked close to Hannah’s age, leaned on the hutch next to her. Neither paid her any attention.
“You know my brother. He’s always got a stick up his ass about something when it comes to me,” the man said. The smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his pale green eyes. “It’s nothing. You know I’m really grateful that you got us the catering job, right?” He folded his arms and pressed his thumb against his bottom lip as if contemplating what to say next.
The woman arched one black brow. “Mm-hmm.”
“You were right about the bride too. She left a message. She’s added more people to the reception.”
“Ha! I told you!” The waitress pumped her fist in the air once in obvious triumph. “I told you, Ross. I saw her staring at the guest list and her aura kept shifting between yellow and blue. Auras don’t lie. She was indecisive. I told you she’d call back and add more people. But did anyone listen to me? No, they did not. But don’t worry. You can handle this. All you need to do is hire a couple more servers for the night. You’ll be fine and everything will work out.”
Ross’s cheeks reddened. “I don’t need just any servers. I need people who are going to impress the hell out of the bride and groom. If something goes wrong, the catering idea will end before it begins. My brother’s already not happy with my new venture.” He gave the waitress a calculating look. “Think you could fill in?”
“I’m already filling in. I’d offer suggestions for other servers, but everyone I know in town works here or will be at the wedding as a guest. Except Zig.” She shook her head, frowning. “Don’t get any ideas about asking him. He won’t do it. Trust me, you won’t convince my boyfriend to cater no matter how much money you offer him. You’re just gonna have to find servers yourself.” The waitress patted his shoulder sympathetically.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Karma.” Ross shrugged, then pulled the band from his ponytail, letting his golden-blond hair flow casually around his shoulders. The man had the kind of shiny hair any woman would envy. “What if I offered him an easy two hundred?”
Karma laughed, then scooted until she completely sat on the wooden countertop. “He won’t agree. Besides, there is nothing easy about this upcoming gig. Your brother may not be able to see your aura, but I can. And I know despite the show you put on for all the staff here, you are so stressed out about making the right impression that you’re going to make yourself sick instead.”
Hannah couldn’t pretend not to hear anymore. She’d been watching the reflection of the pair in the restaurant’s front window. Turning to face them, she met Ross’s gaze. “I need a job.”
Ross blinked. Then did it again before he closed the distance between them. He settled into the chair across from her while Karma scraped a chair over the polished wood floor. She settled herself next to Ross and stared intently at Hannah.
Maybe speaking up hadn’t been such a good idea. But she needed a job if she intended to stay in Tidewater for more than a week. After last night’s conversation with her parents, she’d promised herself that she’d find a job of some kind before she contacted them again. They worried.
“Do you have any experience waitressing?” Ross asked, letting his gaze slide over her. The expression in his eyes was assessing but not speculative or even disapproving. Both of the latter happened all too frequently with strangers since she’d arrived in the city yesterday. Perhaps it was her multicolored peasant skirt and white blouse paired with her sandals that made people give her a double take. Or maybe it was her mass of unruly brown hair coupled with a pink braid. Or the new tattoo on her wrist. Okay, so she didn’t look like a city girl. She wasn’t. But she had the training to be a great server.
“Definitely. My parents own a bar in Ohio. I served food until I was old enough to tend bar. I worked there all through college. I opened, closed, served, and stocked the bar. Not much I didn’t do. Being the daughter of the owners meant I got all the grunt work. I even helped out my dad with repairs.”
She didn’t mention that she’d lived above the bar rather than on campus because her parents had worried the exposure to too many metal objects might overload her system since her visions were brought on by direct contact with all types of metal. Or the fact that her parents had either ripped out metal where they could or simply covered it with plastic or wood where they couldn’t to reduce the number of accidental visions she might have had.
Ross clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. Then he turned his head to the waitress and said, “What do you think?”
Karma narrowed her eyes at Hannah, assessing, then smiled wide. “Hire her. I like her aura. It’s a vibrant orange. Strong, creative, confident, and detail-oriented. She’ll need it if she’s going to work with your brother.”
Hannah wasn’t sure why that compliment sounded so ominous.
* * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Hannah had been introduced to a half dozen people including two cooks, a shy busboy, and two waitresses, one very tall, one her own height. Both with big hair and bigger attitudes. Hannah had also spoken to a delivery driver with the kind of leer that made her want a decontamination shower after shaking his hand.
And she didn’t remember a single name. So much for her aura indicating she was detail-oriented.
Ross filed her past the workers and into a cluttered, cozy little office. He pressed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a polite push onto a stool that doubled as the desk chair.
“Here, fill out this tax form and the application. You’ll also need to provide three references,” he said, dropping the papers on the desk.
Hannah stared up at him in surprise. “Three references? Is that typical?”
“No, it’s not. Most places ask for two but my brother’s a little careful about who we hire.” He paused and muttered under his breath, “He’ll trust Karma’s opinion but not mine.” Louder he added, “It’s why I’m scrambling to hire people to work the upcoming wedding. You have experience catering? It’s not the same thing as waitressing, you know.”
“Nothing as formal as weddings, but we used to rent the bar out for graduation parties.” She chuckled. “Can my parents be a reference? No one will give you a more honest assessment of my character than they will.”
“Your parents. As a reference.” Ross frowned. “The last time someone asked to use parents as a reference, the guy had a criminal history as long as the menu here. Oh God, please tell me you don’t have a criminal record. My brother will never go for me hiring another convict. He’s a stickler about the staff being reputable. If you even have a pot arrest on your record, we should stop now. I’ll never live it down. Even if Karma liked your aura. Hiring you is still my call.”
Hannah didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. “No pot arrest. No arrest of any kind. I’ve never even had a speeding ticket. And I can provide references, besides my parents. They’re all out of town though.”
“That’s fine.” The relief on his face was almost comical. The man practically sagged in place. “Still, we ha
ve to call all of them. Better to waste the money on long-distance calls than to lose everything to a thief. At least, that’s what my brother says.”
Ross patted his pockets and pulled out a pen. A very nice, very expensive Cross pen. Made of metal. “Here you go, sweetie.”
Hannah hesitated. Given his strong emotional reaction to learning she didn’t have a criminal past, the little writing instrument was probably singing with psychometric energy.
Did she really want to risk delving into a psychic event right in front of a new boss? Then again, he’d find out soon enough. Of course, Ross had been okay with Karma’s gift but he knew her. That comfort didn’t always translate to a stranger walking in claiming to have a supernatural ability.
While most people in Fincastle accepted her gift as more reliable than the mail, strangers’ reactions were unpredictable.
Better to find out now if her potential boss would freak out or be cool with her psychic gift.
“Thanks.” She let her fingers close around the cool silver metal.
Yep. Instant connection.
Energy sizzled through her fingertips, up her arm, and straight into her brain. The gray office faded to smoke around her and she was in Ross’s body.
“Hey, Paulie, wanna hit the clubs tonight?” he said around a mouthful of crisp, tart apple. His heart fluttered and his pulse raced past his ears.
Paulie turned from his spot at the stove and smiled. The brief curl of those beautiful lips made Ross’s heart rate kick up a notch.
He’s finally going to say yes. The urge to dance in place was almost too strong to resist.
Then Paulie cut a quick glance to Ross’s left and the smile died.
So did Ross’s hope. He didn’t have to look to know Paulie had caught sight of Ross’s brother.
Ross’s heart sank.
He opened his mouth to say something else to Paulie but the chef had already focused his attention on the mushrooms marinating on the stove.
Dammit! Why did Paulie have to draw that particular line? Didn’t he understand that coming out of the closet to the ass-kickingest Marine of them all wasn’t something that could just be done? It needed finesse. And Ross needed to give his brother time to get to know him before he messed with the jarhead’s narrow way of thinking.
Staring at Paulie’s back, the message was clear. Ross had to come out of the closet completely or nothing could happen between them.
His eyes stung but he couldn’t show weakness around his brother.
Ross inhaled a breath, then glanced to his left. His brother’s mouth was a grim line of disapproval. With a tick working in his cheek, his square jaw looked almost painfully angular. Niall rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand through his short military-cut black hair.
Hannah dropped the pen.
It rolled off the desk and clattered to the floor. Breathing, always a challenge when withdrawing from a vision, was almost impossible. Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs, it could have been trying to punch its way out of her chest. But holy schmoley, even trapped as she was between Ross’s memory and reality, one thing was crystal.
Her Marine was about to become her new boss.
CHAPTER 5
IMAGES OF PAULIE and Niall swirled in Hannah’s mind. Her own thoughts blended with Ross’s memories, echoing to a crescendo. She fought against the vision. Even with the pen no longer in her hands, residual effects of Ross’s memory pulsed through her.
The room swayed around her or maybe she swayed. She wasn’t sure. The only thing she knew was that she’d gone into one too many visions today because she was having trouble breaking free of this one.
Propping one hand on the doorjamb, she shut her eyes and repeated the mantra that had always centered her in the past, “I’m Hannah Halloran. Hannah. Halloran.”
Somewhere in the distance, Ross sucked in a hissing breath, then muttered, “Oh Christ. You’re a nutball, aren’t ya, dollface? Niall’s gonna kill me.” She didn’t need to open her eyes to sense he’d moved closer. His breath, tinted with garlic and peppermint, fell against her face. “Come on, sweetie. Open your eyes and look at me.”
Slowly, Hannah blinked. Her head felt thick but the vision faded to a misty fog that evaporated beneath the fluorescent bulbs. She blinked again and the room came into focus. Her legs, oddly shaky, still supported her. Carefully she pushed away from the wall, letting her arms drop to her sides. Each breath centered her until the vision was a memory and reality was Ross staring at her with wariness in his too-pretty eyes.
“There you go, sweetie. Welcome back.” He glanced out the open door, then slid it closed with the toe of his sandal. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his shorts and looked as lost and innocent as a child. “For a second, I thought you were going to take a swan dive. I know it’s not PC to admit, but Niall would probably frown on your little scene here. He likes for the employees to, you know, remain conscious and not mutter their names to themselves in public. Do you have some sort of psychosis I should know about?”
Okay, so not quite so innocent or childlike.
“Sorry about that. Too many trips in one day, I guess.” Way too many, if he’d thought she was going to faint. Hannah tugged her pink braid across her shoulder and toyed with it. Glancing around the floor she saw the pen not far from her ankle. “Never felt faint before. Hope to never do it again. I guess the pen’s energy was a little more than I was ready for.”
Ross arched one perfect eyebrow. He lifted the instrument, and twisting his wrist side to side, he examined it. “The pen’s energy? I was right here, sweetie, and I promise, it didn’t do anything odd. You sure you don’t have a mental defect I should know about?”
Hannah managed a smile. The heaviness in her head dulled to a low throb. “No, not a mental defect. Not a psychosis. However, I do get readings from objects.”
“Uh-huh.” Ross scrunched up his pretty face. “Readings? Like you do tarot cards or something?”
“No.” She laughed and waved away the idea. “Nothing quite so technical. I get visions from all sorts of objects but not paper or cards or stuff like that. Metal conducts energy the best. The longer I touch something metal, the stronger the emanation, the harder it is to break out of the vision.”
“Okay then. Well . . . Right. No harm. I’m glad you’re all back to um . . . normal now. Just my pen sending rampant visions your way.” Ross retreated two steps. Palms up and out, he waved them at her as if warding off the devil himself. Or a lunatic. “You know, I’ve made a mistake. We’re not really hiring after all. You can just leave all that paperwork and I’ll see you out.”
Hannah moved toward him and the world dipped threateningly before it leveled out.
Whoa, that was one strong vision.
Sliding to her right, she effectively blocked the closed door and Ross’s attempt to escape. “Ross, please wait. I can prove what I say, if you’ll give me a chance.”
“I’m listening.” Ross folded his arms across his chest in the universal move of those who absolutely refuse to hear what’s about to be said.
No, he wasn’t planning to listen. But he would. She’d make sure of it.
Hannah leaned her back against the door and focused on centering herself.
Ross cleared his throat.
She whipped her gaze to his.
“Any time now.” He tapped his foot in an impatient staccato beat. “Wow me with your magic.”
“It’s not magic, it’s psychometry.”
“Not magic. Psychic-ometry?”
“No. Yes, I mean I am psychic but the gift is called psychometry.” He stared at her unblinkingly. She kept going. “When you offered me the pen, I hesitated. I knew if I touched it, I’d probably get a vision but I did it anyway. And it did show me something. I was in that kitchen.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder. “You were there eating a really good a
pple, crisp and tart. Anyway, you were talking to Paulie and your brother about going to a club.”
“That was this morning.” Ross frowned. “How did you know that? Are you telling me you’re a mind reader? Or maybe you were hanging around outside and peeking in through the windows. If you’re a mind reader, prove it. Tell me what I’m thinking.”
“I’m not a mind reader and I wasn’t spying on you.” Well, not the way he thought. She waved away his ridiculous demand. “But I can tell you something I couldn’t possibly know.”
He arched an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
She stepped closer and dropped her voice to a whisper, “You’re in love with Paulie and you’re afraid to tell your brother you’re gay.”
“I’m not!” Ross paled beneath his golden tan and his eyes went wide and dark. “I-I mean . . . Who told you I’m gay?” He all but whispered the last word.
“You did, when you handed me the pen.” She stepped to the side, clearing his way to the door. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t move. Except for her college boyfriend, everyone who’d learned of her gift thought it was cool. But Bryan had taught her that it could be a curse.
Ross’s color flooded back into his cheeks and his face split into a wide grin. “That is so boss! Can you do it all the time? With everyone? If I give you something of Paulie’s, can you tell me if he’s in love with me too?”
And again, Ross reminded her more of a happy child than a business owner. And this was the reaction she was used to receiving. Like being with old friends, it warmed her. Once again the universe proved her decision to come to Tidewater had been the right one. Surely, his easy acceptance of her gift meant she was on the right path. Still, she needed to calm him down.
“Wait a sec.” She leaned against the closed the door again. “First, I can’t do it with everything. Like I said, metal objects work best. Second, don’t you want to figure out your relationship on your own? I mean, where’s the fun if you already know what’s in his head? And I’m not a relationship counselor, but it sounds like you two need to talk.”