by Kylie Scott
“Summer’s hard to judge. When the bars downtown fill up, we seem to get some of the spillover, along with our usuals.” Nell wiped the edges of a dish clear, then deposited it under the heating lamp to be collected. “Long as they keep coming and paying, I’m happy.”
Joe and Vaughan were keeping busy. A second waitress, Stella, had finally arrived to work alongside Rosie, considerably lightening the load. Where Rosie seemed friendly, Stella kept her distance. Though with the less-than-warm looks Nell was shooting her way, I would too. She was early twenties at a guess with short jet black hair and a nose ring. Very cool.
The night only seemed to get busier. For every table cleared, another party would enter. I’d offered to go catch a cab home, to let Nell work in peace. She’d ordered me to stay put. So I taste-tested dishes as directed, chatted with her, and slowly sipped iced water in the impressively shiny kitchen.
“He’s watching again; quick, look happy,” said Nell.
I turned my head, gave Vaughan a finger wave. “Does he usually worry this much?”
“Not in my experience. But then, it’s been years since he’s been around.”
With a lethal-looking knife, she made short work of dicing onions. Not a single tear was shed. Next she moved onto testing a boiling pot of pasta. “Went and visited him on the Coast a few times. Things were always crazy busy. They’d be in the middle of recording or on their way to a gig. It’s not like we really got time to talk.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Then once we opened this place, my life revolved around it. I’m here working or I’m at home catching up on sleep.”
“I bet.” I’d never run my own business, but I could imagine.
“Since our parents passed, Vaughan’s been even harder to get ahold of. I don’t know, I guess most families grow apart, right?”
“I’m probably the wrong person to ask. Mine was never close to begin with.”
“Yeah?”
“I was an accident. Reproduction never featured on my parents list of things to do. They were always working, trying to make things better. Have the money to buy a big shiny house with the latest everything.” I shrugged. “It just never quite worked out that way.”
Nell frowned. “Dad worked a lot, but Mom was usually home.”
“I don’t mean to be nosy. But do you mind if I ask how your parents died?”
“Car accident,” she said, the volume dropping on her voice. “Happened at night. It’d just started raining and there was oil on the road. Dad lost control and they hit a tree. Mom died on impact but Dad lasted longer. They’d managed to cut him out of the vehicle and were on their way to the hospital. Luckily he never regained consciousness after the accident. He never knew Mom was gone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” She shook herself. “Anyway, Vaughan and I were tight through high school. Pretty much part of the same crowd. It was weird when he left, I was so used to having him around.”
She stopped to pass me a small dish of feta and olives.
“That’s how I met my ex, Patrick. He was a friend of Vaughan’s. I stole him. Probably why he’s so worried about trusting me with you.” She winked. “He’s worried I’ve changed teams,” she said sarcastically.
“Mm, sorry. I’m going to have to decline.” I popped a black olive into my mouth. Delicious. “You’ve got a hot bod, but you’re too complicated. I’m currently avoiding any and all complications of the romantic kind.”
“Ha. I guess we’ll have to be just friends.”
“I’d like that.”
She smiled and checked on the progress of some gourmet pizzas, then plated them up with precision. Halloumi, pumpkin, spinach, and pine nuts. It looked divine and smelled even better. “Me too.”
“This place is a lot nicer than most dive bars I’ve been in.” To be honest, it was more along the lines of some hipster restaurant/bar with a small stage set up in a corner. “It’s much brighter and the floor isn’t sticky.”
“We inherited that name,” explained Nell. “Andre Bird, the guy that owns the building, his dad opened the Dive Bar here back in the seventies. He died behind that bar six years ago. Heart attack. One minute he was pouring beer, the next minute, gone.”
“Huh.”
“Pat swears he saw the old guy’s ghost late one night when he was locking up. But I think he’s full of it.” A shadow of a smile lingered on her lips. Then she shook it off. “You know Stage Dive did their first public gig on that tiny stage over there.”
“No.” My eyes bulged.
“Yep. I was here. They were absolutely awful.” She laughed. “Took them a few years to get to the point where they were actually worth listening to.”
I stared at the stage, mind officially blown. Then I quickly checked out how Vaughan was doing. He was busy restocking the beer fridge. Seemed all good.
“We get diehard fans coming in to get their pictures taken on the stage pretty regularly.” She plated up some sort of stuffed chicken breast, spinach and soft cheese oozing out of the middle. “Some are a bit wacked, kissing and stroking it. Eric and Joe had to throw one guy out for trying to hump it. We’re pretty sure he was high as a kite. Still, can you imagine the splinters he would have gotten? Ouch.”
I snorted. “Ouch, all right. That’s amazing that you saw Stage Dive so early.”
“Vaughan was in school the same year as a couple of the guys. Had some classes with them. Ask him about it sometime.” Nell paused, grimaced. “Maybe don’t, since his band’s broken up and they’re bigger than ever.”
“Think I’ll keep my mouth shut. Can’t be easy, being a musician and coming from the same town as them.”
A couple of women in tight-fitting dresses were at the bar, flirting with Vaughan. Not that someone flirting with him was any of my business. Mostly. The amount of alcohol-fueled sex offers bartenders must get … though those guys had a lot going for them no matter the situation. Tattoos, muscles, general coolness. Us normal folk never stood a chance.
Why would they settle down when they could live the free and easy lifestyle forever?
“It’s great that this place has such a rich history,” I said, making myself look away from him. Maybe I should tape my head to the wall. Use a staple gun, perhaps.
Again, Nell made that short sharp almost startling sound of joy and/or amusement. It was hard to say if she was laughing or yipping or what. “Oh, there was history. You should have seen the amount of mirror tiles and velvet wallpaper and shit we had to pull down to get it back to the original brick and wood. Right, Boyd?”
Nothing from Boyd.
Nell didn’t even seem to notice. “I wanted to rename it, but Pat and Eric outvoted me. Probably for the best. The whole town knows it as the Dive Bar.”
“You might have gotten haunted by the old man.”
“Yeah. Andre Senior would not have been impressed.”
On the other side of the room, I watched Vaughan mix a couple of bourbon and Cokes, passing them to Rosie. (Hey, I’d avoided looking at him for a solid thirty, forty seconds.) Joe tapped him on the arm, telling him something. Then, with a nod, Vaughan moved on to the next job. His lean angular face seemed fierce, determined. I felt for him. Learning a new trade was never easy—especially on such a busy night.
“Jesus, you’ve got it bad,” said Nell.
I snapped to attention, spluttering, “What?”
“You keep watching him.”
“I do not.”
“Oh god, yes, you do,” said Nell. “Tell her, Boyd. It’s kind of nauseating.”
Boyd didn’t even bother looking up from the pot he was stirring.
“He saved my big butt yesterday. He’s my friend and this is his first night on a new job,” I said, trying my best to be nonchalant, noncrazy. “I want him to do well, that’s all.”
The redheaded woman raised a single brow.
“Fine.” I took a deep breath. “Nell, I hate to be the one to have to tell you this. B
ut your brother is hot. Like smokin’ hot. Honestly, it’s kind of impossible to have a vagina and not look.”
She barked out a laugh.
Boyd frowned, continuing to cook. At least I’d gotten a reaction. I stirred my drink with the straw, chasing a cube of ice around the glass.
Hands always in motion, Nell moved on to the grill, tending to thick cuts of steak. “Has he said anything more about selling the house?”
Yikes, not safe territory. “You need to ask him about that.”
“He’s busy. I’m asking you.”
“Yes. And I’m telling you to ask him.” The woman could give me all the hard-eyed looks she wanted. I wasn’t giving away a damn thing Vaughan had confided.
Lightbulbs suspended from the two-story-high ceiling turned on and filled the Dive Bar with a warm glow. I could have happily settled in at a corner table and read for hours. It just felt like a nice place to be.
Until it didn’t.
A slick-looking man with a man-bun marched in, face crankier than thunder, his voice louder than all hell. “What the fuck, Nell?”
Unperturbed, the petite chef smiled. “What the fuck what, Eric?”
“He isn’t working here.”
“He is.”
“No.” The man, Eric, put a hella lot of emphasis on the word. “I’m an owner here too. You need to run this kind of shit past me, and I’m telling you no.”
“Eric.” The other waitress, Stella, hovered behind him, waiting. “Can I have a word with you?”
“Not now.”
“It’s important.”
Eric didn’t get a chance to answer, however, with Nell on the warpath.
“We hired Joe, your brother,” she said.
“We all agreed to hire my brother. Only person I see supporting this decision is you.”
Eyes as cold as the arctic, Nell picked up a particularly long dangerous-looking knife. “We need help. He needs a job. It’s a win for everyone.”
“We’re doing fine. And that asshole can rot as far as I know.” He moved forward, looming over Nell. It was kind of impressive how little fear he had for his life.
“He’s. My. Brother.”
“My brother helped us build this place. Worked day in, day out for next to nothing. Where the fuck was yours, huh?” he asked, jaw rigid. “Off banging groupies on the West Coast.”
“Please. Like you wouldn’t have been doing exactly the same given half a chance.”
Behind him, Stella lingered, eyes hardening by the minute. The woman was not giving me happy vibes.
“Get rid of him,” Eric snarled. “Now.”
“No. We need him.”
“Bullshit. I’ll take over the bar with Joe.”
“Don’t do this, Eric,” said Nell. “You want me to bring Pat in on this? Really?”
Eric’s lips flat-lined.
“He’ll have Vaughan’s back. You’ll be outvoted and you know it.” She drove the blade of the knife deep into the cutting board with a loud thunk. Poor board.
The two forces of will faced off in silence. There was a world war going on between them. Death and disaster, lots of imaginary blood and bomb blasts. Boyd kept his head down and stayed the hell out of it. I did too.
To think I thought Coeur d’Alene was a quiet town. Nice people, not much drama. The longer I lived, the less I knew.
Only one person dared to break the stalemate. Stella visibly braced herself, shoulder back, head held high. “Eric!”
With a growl, Eric spun. “I said not—”
The waitress slapped him in the face. The noise was shockingly loud.
“Fuck you and your ‘not now,’” she said. “I’m not wasting another minute of my life waiting on you.”
Eric said nothing.
“Serious about exploring something with me, were you? Did you honestly think I wouldn’t hear about you taking that skank to dinner last night?” Stella asked, rubbing her probably sore hand against the side of her skinny black jeans. “Well?”
His cheek ripe red, the man stood frozen. Busted. So damn busted.
“You lying piece of shit.” The woman ripped off her neat black apron, shoving it into his stomach. Her teary eyes blazed with fury. “I quit!”
Holy hell.
For a minute, nobody moved. A Jason Isbell song started playing over the sound system. Slowly, the talk and sounds of eating and drinking started up again. The Dive Bar once more came to life. I’d been so caught up in the scene, I hadn’t even noticed we yet again had an audience watching. At least they weren’t interested in me this time.
A hand was at my back, a solid male body standing behind me. I didn’t need to turn to know it was Vaughan. The sudden happy in my hormones was evidence enough.
“Tell me you didn’t fuck another employee.” Nell’s voice was so deadly quiet I almost couldn’t hear it. Her skin seemed snow pale, apart from the twin bright spots high on her cheeks. “You wouldn’t, not after you promised. Not again, on top of everything else that’s going on right now.”
His hands curled into tight fists. “Nell—”
“Tell me you didn’t.”
Obviously, the man couldn’t.
Breathing hard, Nell stared down at her chopping board. “Vaughan works here as long as he wants. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Apparently Eric didn’t have a death wish, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Get out of my kitchen,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “I’m serious, I don’t want to even look at you again tonight. Get out.”
“You need me here,” he said.
“No.” Furiously, she shook her head. “No, what I need is people I can depend upon to run a business. Not a fuck-up who can’t even keep his dick in his pants during open hours.”
No one spoke, the tension thick enough to choke on.
“Shit!” Eric slammed the apron onto the nearest flat metal surface and stalked out.
The restaurant was now completely full and I could hear someone calling for service.
Crap. Poor Nell.
“We need to get back to work,” she said quietly, sending the staff on their way.
I couldn’t just sit there. Not when I could help. Nell had been nice to me, plus there was the debt I owed her brother. So I picked up the apron Eric had just abused and shook it out. “I waitressed my way through college.”
Nell just looked at me, mystified. She had the same beautiful blue eyes as Vaughan. Like a clear blue summer sky or your favorite jeans, which you’d washed a hundred times. But right now, those eyes seemed shaken, and her white face was a stark contrast to her bright red hair. She was a woman pushed to the edge, then given a little nudge over. God, did I know that feeling all too well.
While my fingers were busy with the apron ties, I took a deep breath. “Rosie can get me up to speed on the table numbering and the rest.”
Vaughan’s hand moved to the back of my neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb stroked over my skin, giving me goose bumps. It was impossible not to lean into him, to take a little more of what he was giving. All that heat and strength. The truth was, I liked his touch far more than I should have. Definitely far more than was wise. Also his smell. Man, he smelled good. Soap and him and sex. Though the sex was probably just my fevered imagination.
Then he was gone, heading back to the bar.
“You don’t have to do that,” said Nell.
“I know.”
She blinked, frozen for a moment. Then the moment was gone. Loudly, Nell clapped her hands, getting back in the game. “We got a full house, people. Let’s go. Boyd, how many times do I have to tell you to stop standing around gabbing? Work. Work!”
CHAPTER TEN
“Don’t move an inch. I’m just going to run inside and grab my camera.”
Looking amused, Vaughan straightened. He had been leaning over the front of the Mustang, doing deep and meaningful things to the vehicle’s engine. I had to admit, the position did amazing things
to his jean-clad ass. And the fact that he was sans T-shirt got me all a-tingle. The ink work on his arms made for an amazing display. The man was living art.
“Good morning, Lydia.”
“Morning, Vaughan.” I passed him one of the cups of coffee I’d made from the supplies Nell shoved at me the night before. Coffee, sugar, creamer, and containers full of restaurant leftovers, god bless her.
“Thanks.” He took a sip, smiling at me.
“What?”
“You,” he said. “Smirking and giving me crap. It’s like you’ve freed your inner happy smart-ass self. Let it loose to run wild.”
“Nah.” I leaned a hip against the driver’s side door. “That’s just me complimenting your rear and practicing my come-on lines now that I’m swinging single again.”
“I’m glad you felt my ass worthy of your attentions.”
“No problem.”
“And I want you to know, minute you give me the signal and lift-up your shirt I’ll be more than happy to give your breasts all the best lines I’ve got.”
“That’s sweet.” I took a sip of my coffee, trying to keep a straight face. In my infinite wisdom, I’d raised the subject of sex. Now here we were, my pulse speeding, heading straight toward a panic attack over the way he looked at me. How insane. I both wanted, and didn’t want, his attention with all of my heart. “I’ll give some thought to your shirt suggestion.”
“Wish you would,” he said. Oh, that sly little smile of his. It made my everything go weak.
I laughed, a little unnerved.
“Will you be falling for my flirting sometime soon?”
Whoa. I stopped, thrown.
“Not that I mind hitting on you, Lydia. Just curious,” he said. “And I’m not being kind or trying to boost your self-confidence.”
Ugh. “Am I that obviously neurotic and needy?”
He took another sip of coffee. “To be fair, the crap you’ve been through lately would make anyone doubt themselves.”
Overhead, a bird flew by. How nice to just be able to up and disappear so easily. I wanted wings. Awkward conversation, shitty situation, I’d be out of here, suckers. Poof! Gone. They didn’t even have to be pretty, any old pigeon wings would do.