by Jamie Canosa
“Bart called. He needs someone to cover the bar this afternoon for Tom, so I came in early.”
Bart’s was the kind of place where it didn’t really matter if you were old enough to drink to work the bar. If you could pour a bottle, you’d do. Jay wasn’t complaining. It was just about the only place he and Em could find the work they so desperately needed when they were first starting out.
Everything had seemed so bright, shiny, and new the day he’d swooped in to Em’s rescue and taken her away. A new beginning full of promise. They’d been so naïve. Without high school diplomas or any sort of references, they’d been turned down right and left until the last of his inheritance was spent trying to keep them fed. If Bart hadn’t taken pity on them—and possibly an inappropriate liking to Em that Jay worked hard to ignore—they would have found themselves in trouble again. As long as Bart kept his hands to himself, Jay was thankful enough for the weekly paychecks that they stuck around. But he promised himself if he ever caught the guy so much as breathing on her, it was over. They were out of there.
“Maybe we could have lunch together before you start.”
“Actually,” Mason slipped around the corner of the counter, eyes scanning the dining room. “I think you have more customers, Em.”
Em glanced over at a table of waiting guys in matching orange vests and sighed. “Oh well, maybe dinner before I leave?”
Jay’s glare followed Mason all the way to the kitchen, not that he seemed to notice.
“Sure. I need to start now, anyway. I’ll save my break for dinner later, though.”
Em grinned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying over to the table to take their orders. Jay ducked under the bar and started inventorying supplies. One would think that noon on a weekday was a bit early for the bar to be open, but within half an hour he had more customers than the rest of the place combined.
He poured glass bottles, squeezed fruit, and stirred drinks for a solid forty-five minutes until a commotion demanded his attention. The group of guys seated in Em’s section were getting rowdy. Jay’s teeth ground together as their voices grew louder and they started shoving each other in the booth. Em rushed over and was doing her best to get them to quiet down from a distance, but they were obviously making her uncomfortable.
“Hey!” Jay’s gaze shot to the man seated at the bar and followed his gaze to the overflowing drink in front of him. Crap.
Bart would call that alcohol abuse and dock his pay if he saw it. Quickly, dropping the bottle of vodka back into its slot in the display, Jay grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess.
“Come on, pretty.” Jay’s attention shot back to the table across the room where one of the guys was now waving Em over. “My friend has something he wants to ask you.”
Em took a single cautious step closer, chewing her lower lip and Jay’s hands fisted at his sides. “What can I do for you?”
“Are you going to give me that drink or not?” Jay glanced at the older man at the bar and slid him the slightly sticky glass, mumbling something about it being ‘on the house’. He’d deal with Bart later.
“So many things,” one of the assholes answered, causing a round of snickers from the rest. “Would you like me to make you a list? Or maybe after you get off work we could . . .”
That was it. He’d heard enough. Jay headed for the end of the bar at the same moment Bart stepped out of the kitchen and a man in a dark suit called out a drink order. Dammit. He was trapped. Powerless behind the goddamn bar. If he walked away from a customer it would likely cost him his job. He growled as his hands tightened around the wooden edge of the surface until his knuckles went white.
“Oh, don’t be that way.” The bastard harassing Em reached for her.
Screw the job. Jay’s blood boiled as he stormed toward the end of the bar, hell bent on putting an end to it. Just as he reached the hinged counter that served as the bars entrance/exit, another voice cut through the red haze clouding his vision.
“That’s enough! If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I think it’s time for you to leave.” Mason had inserted himself into the role of Em’s knight-in-shining-freaking-armor.
Dammit all to hell. Jay couldn’t decide if he wanted to thank him or pummel him bloody. When the group left the restaurant amid a chorus of complaints and catcalls and Mason’s arm went around Em to lead her away, it was decided. The jackass was going to bleed.
“Are you going to get me that whiskey sour?” The business suit looked restless, probably running out of time for his liquid lunch.
“Yeah, sure.”
Jay got busy mixing drinks and was sucked under a tidal wave of customers that lasted a solid four hours. Between screwdrivers, martinis, and the bottomless Long Island iced tea at the far end of the bar, he caught glimpses of Em flitting back and forth from the kitchen, taking orders and delivering food. She seemed fine, but it was killing him not to know. Not to look her in the eye, past the walls, and be sure that she was okay.
“Got time for a break?” Sahara was standing beside the bar wearing a shirt that looked like she outgrew when she was about five and batting her overly large baby blues.
Jay let his gaze slide pointedly over the packed bar in response.
“You work too hard. Tell Bart you need a bathroom break.”
God only knew what the girl thought they could do in a bathroom. “I’m good, actually.”
She pouted at him before turning and sashaying her way across the dining room, shaking her tail feather at him the entire way. That girl had some serious issues.
Barstools emptied and another round of customers filled them again. Over the next hour, Sahara made an inordinate number of trips to the ladies room, eyeing him each time like she expected the exaggerated sway of her hips to hypnotize him into following her.
“How’s it going?” Em looked dead on her feet, apron folded over her arm, dark shadows under her eyes, and hair all a mess. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
“Crazy.”
An older woman called out an order and Jay started mixing.
“Guess there’s no time for dinner, then?”
He hated having to tell her no, but—like age restrictions—Bart didn’t exactly believe in breaks. “I can’t tonight, baby.”
“No worries.” Mason swooped down on them with a broad grin. “I was going to grab some pizza. Why don’t you come with me and then I can drop you off at home? That way you won’t have to come back later to pick up Jay. You guys share that old truck, right?”
“I’ll get a ride—” Jay started at the same time Em asked, “Do you mind?”
She smiled at him and what was he supposed to do? Jay was forced to shake his head because his teeth were clenched so tightly he wasn’t certain he could get any words through.
“Great.” Mason looked too damn happy for his own good. “Let’s go. Later, Jay.”
“Hang on a second.” Jay ducked under the bar, ignoring calls for refills and pulled Em aside. “You all right?”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I saw those guys hassling you earlier. I was going to say something, but—”
“It’s okay, Mason got rid of them.”
“Saw that, too. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. They didn’t . . . scare you?”
Em shrugged. “They freaked me out a little, but I can’t go around letting everything scare me for the rest of my life. Nothing happened. It’s over. I’m okay.” Jay looked her in the eye and she looked like she meant it.
He smiled, tucking some of the hair that escaped her long braid behind her ear. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”
Em blushed to the roots of her hair and Jay couldn’t help grinning. That is until his gaze landed back on the bar and the angry horde of neglected people impatiently awaiting his return.
He sighed. “Guess I better get back.”
Em didn’t look any happier about it than he was and that made him feel at least the tinies
t bit better.
“I’d better go. Mason’s waiting. I’ll see you when you get home tonight.”
“It might be late. You don’t have to wait up for me.”
“I want to. I miss you.”
Her words brought a sweetness that even the sight of Sahara slinking off to the bathroom, yet again, couldn’t sour.
“I miss you, too. Go get something to eat and I’ll see you later.” A quick kiss was all he had time for and Em wasn’t overly comfortable with public displays of affection, anyway.
She waved over her shoulder as she slipped out the front door and he slid back behind the bar.
Chapter Six
Em
Mason was waiting by a shiny silver Expedition she’d never seen before. The thing was massive and looked brand new. When he helped her up the tall step and into the cab, she realized it even smelled new.
“Nice truck.”
Mason climbed up beside her, grinning. “Thanks. It was an early birthday present.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Next month.”
“Oh.” Was it rude to ask a guy how old they are? Now that she thought about it, she was really curious. He had one of those handsome baby faces that made him look about her age, but if she looked closer, he could have been older. And he seemed to work day shifts pretty often when kids her age should be in school. Then again, she wasn’t.
“Nineteen.” His sudden proclamation snapped Em out of her thoughts.
“Huh?”
“You were wondering how old I’m turning. Nineteen.”
“I was not.”
“Don’t deny it. You totally were.” When she didn’t argue, he grinned and turned the ignition. “So, I know I’m not supposed to ask, but how old are you, anyway?”
“Seventeen.”
“And you’re living with Jay?” He turned right out of the parking lot and headed toward downtown.
“I’m emancipated.”
“Ah ha.”
For several minutes, the only sounds were the soft rock lyrics flowing from the stereo system as they sat at a red light.
“Are you sure that’s the best—?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” This was exactly why she tried to keep her personal details private, like age and living arrangements, but when you work with someone every day for months, they’re bound to notice things. All it did was lead to questions she didn’t want to answer and advice regarding a situation they knew nothing about.
“Okay.” Mason agreed quickly and swiftly switched topics, unperturbed. “You should really have your own car, though. That way you wouldn’t have to come back out at night alone to pick Jay up when he works late.”
“Jay wouldn’t let me go out alone at night. He’d have found a ride home.” Probably with Sahara. She would have been all too happy to have Jay all to herself in a moving vehicle where he couldn’t escape.
“Either way, it would make it easier on both of you.”
“That’s probably true. Maybe when we get some more money,” or any money, “saved up, we’ll look into it.”
“My old car is just sitting in my garage collecting dust. If you’d like—”
“Thanks, Mason, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea.” Jay wasn’t a fan of charity. And, he certainly wasn’t a fan of Mason. He tried to hide it, but she’d have to be blind not to notice.
“I’m just trying to help, Em.”
“I know you are. And, I appreciate it. Let me talk to Jay, all right? I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, Em.” He sighed as he turned into the lot of Pizza Palace and pulled into a spot near the front door. “Whatever you want.”
Em threw her door open before he could start acting like this was some kind of date, but was forced to accept his help in climbing down from the precarious metal step. Once she was on solid ground again, he released her hand immediately—for which, she was grateful—and she followed him through the door.
Screaming children, blaring music, and all around chaos greeted them on the other side. Definitely not her kind of place.
“Friday night!” Mason shouted above the ruckus with a shrug. “Sorry about that! I wasn’t thinking!”
“It’s fine! Let’s just eat!” And get out of there before the migraine she could already feel coming on got any worse. She’d been tired and achy all day. The last thing she had time for was a cold.
***
“At least we don’t work there,” Mason offered as he pulled open the passenger side door and helped Em back inside.
The upside of all that noise was that it kept conversation to a minimum. Mason was a nice guy, but the fact that Jay couldn’t stand him and Mason couldn’t care less made the whole situation uncomfortable, to say the least.
“Yeah. That would be a nightmare. I don’t know how they do it.”
The ride home was blissfully quiet with Em only speaking to give directions as she nursed the pounding in her skull. When they reached the house, Mason pulled into the drive and shut off his truck. If he thought he was getting an invitation to come in, he was going to be sorely disappointed. She reached for her door handle, but his voice cut her off.
“Are you going to be all right?”
Em could feel her forehead scrunch in confusion. What did he mean by that?
“Home alone. This late. Will you be all right until Jay gets home?” It would have come off as a lame fishing expedition if it hadn’t been for the genuine concern in his eyes. He wasn’t hunting for an invitation to stay, he was legitimately concerned about her safety. Despite whatever hang-ups Jay had with him, Mason was a decent guy.
“I’ll be fine. Jay shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Em.”
“Goodnight, Mason. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as she was through the front door, Em locked it up tight like Jay had drilled into her. Then she flicked on some lights. Headlights trailed across the living room wall as Mason backed from the driveway. He’d waited until she was inside to leave.
Feeling queasy from the greasy pizza—she missed Joe’s—Em grabbed a couple of aspirin and a bottle of water, and made her way to the couch. She’d watch a little TV to keep herself awake until Jay got home.
Chapter Seven
Jay
Jay’s head pounded, his back ached, and his feet were protesting the cheap shoes he’d just spent the past ten hours standing in. All of that disappeared at the sight of Em sleeping soundly on the couch when he stepped inside the house. Despite how exhausted she looked when she’d left the restaurant, she’d waited up for him. Or at least she’d tried.
Watching her sleep was probably a creepy thing to do, but he couldn’t help himself. The reality of her there, in his home—in their home—was still so incredible to him. As he stood in the dark, she shifted restlessly, releasing a groan as she rolled to bury her face in the cushion.
Jay’s heart squeezed. Another nightmare. She could barely close her eyes without having one. He wondered, morbidly, if she’d ever know peace. If either of them would.
“Wake up, Em. It’s just a dream.” Keeping his touch light as not to agitate her further, Jay attempted to shake her awake, but her skin was on fire. She was burning up. It wasn’t just another nightmare. She was sick. “Em? Baby, wake up.”
Her hair was plastered to sweat dampened cheeks while her entire body shivered almost violently. Pulling the throw blanket from the back of the couch, he tucked it around her before forcing himself to leave her long enough to wet a washcloth and pour a glass of water. He was no doctor, but he’d had his fair share of experiences with fevers.
Em roused sluggishly as he pressed the cool compress to her face, blinking up at him before groaning and squeezing her eyes shut again.
“I’m . . . so c-cold, Jay.”
“I know, baby. It’s okay.” Her complaint got to him. More than the heat pouring off her skin. More than the shivers coursing through her small body. Mor
e than anything. Em never complained. Not ever. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Jay’s focus ping-ponged between Em shaking on the couch and the thermostat hanging on the wall. Fuck it, he’d deal with the consequences next month when the bill came due. The urge to throw all caution to the wind and crank it as high as it would go pricked his mind and itched his fingers, but he couldn’t be that reckless. Carefully turning the dial up another ten degrees, he listened as the old radiators clanked to life around the house.
“Come on. Up you go.” Em wasn’t thrilled with the idea of sitting up and Jay had to do most of the work to get her that way, but he didn’t mind as he slid onto the couch beside her and she slumped against his chest. “You need to drink something. Stay hydrated.”
He pressed the glass into her hand and watched her take several long, greedy swallows.
“That a girl. Now let’s get you to bed, okay?” Em didn’t complain as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hall. Jay couldn’t believe how light she still felt. It was a sucker punch to the gut. He worked his ass off to try to make ends meet—they both did—and still he couldn’t afford to really feed her right.
Em didn’t release her hold around his neck as he laid her on the bed, pulling him down beside her. Before he could even tuck the blankets around the two of them, she’d borrowed into his side and fallen back to sleep.