Unbidden, a private smile found its way onto Baird’s lips as he lifted up the chairs and placed them on the table. “I can’t believe you called me a chicken.”
“I can’t believe that’s the worst insult I could think of. Give me another hour. I’ll come up with something better.”
“Can’t wait,” he replied tonelessly.
“We’re done in the kitchen,” Stephanie announced, emerging from her work station with her purse. “Good working with you, Baird.” She extended her hand to him, and he acknowledged her gesture of respect. “Nice to meet you, Blue. Good luck to Elle, and really, really good working with you, Grettel.” There was no mention of Steve before she waved goodbye and left.
It was one-thirty in the morning when Grettel took off her shoes and uniform shirt, placing them on the side of her bed. When she turned to eye the empty space that should hold Elle, her face was so pitiful that Blue frowned along with her.
“Don’t worry, Grettel. She’ll be fine. They’ll send her back for her shift tomorrow.” Blue tried to reassure the girl, but Baird was looking down unhappily at the half-empty mattress, as well. She pulled off her uniform shirt to take her nightly run in her jean shorts and white tank top. Stretching out her muscles, Blue turned out the light once the two were in place and ready for bed.
Before she could touch the handle on the front door to make her exit, Baird’s low voice caught her. “Hey, Blue?”
“Yeah?” she answered, glad that his voice sounded too tired for a lengthy conversation.
“If you could figure out your calling like, tomorrow or something, that’d be real helpful.”
She glared at him, but in the dark and with his eyes closed, it was a wasted effort. “Okay. Hey, I thought of a better insult for you.”
“I’m too tired to hear it. Save it for a time that I’m being a real jerk.”
“Just one time?”
“Get!” Baird shouted at Blue as she ran out the door.
The two were still in their respective “beds” when Blue reentered the hut after her night-long run. She was a little surprised that Baird hadn’t woken up at ten on the dot.
She reached for the uniform shirt that Grettel had worn the night before and some clean shorts, socks and undergarments before locking herself in the bathroom to shower and dress for the day.
By the time she finished brushing the kinks out of her hair, she could hear movement in the living room. Grettel and Baird were eating their Grade V rations silently at the table. Grettel’s drooping eyes suggesting she had missed Elle’s presence in the night.
Without a word, Baird motioned for Grettel to take the bathroom next. She stood obediently and went to collect her change of clothes.
Baird had already set out Blue’s rations, and she thanked him as she pulled open the tab. “Thanks. You look kinda terrible.”
Baird responded by roughly shoving her with one hand. She grinned. No sooner had she righted herself, than the noise of an approaching vehicle interrupted their breakfast.
Baird stiffened. “Get behind the couch.”
“It’s Elle,” she informed him, judging by the cadence of the walker’s steps. Sure enough, the front door opened to reveal her bedraggled friend.
“Elle!” Blue exclaimed, jumping up from the table and closing the distance between them.
The woman looked positively exhausted, but true to her nature, she offered up a cocky grin. “I made it to round two,” she whispered, her voice not wanting to be the one to tell her body that it wasn’t nighttime anymore.
Blue hugged her friend, but only briefly.
Baird nudged his sister out of the way so that he could be closer to Elle. Foregoing propriety, he placed a yearning kiss on her lips as he held her cheek with his palm.
Blue’s mouth dropped open at the display after years of veiled flirtation. Elle melted under his touch, thrilling that there was an actual witness to it this time.
“I didn’t dream it, then?” she asked breathlessly.
Shaking his head, Baird kissed her again after letting out a short laugh. “Do you usually dream about me?”
“All the time,” Elle admitted, not bothering to straighten her posture after he pulled away. “Must sleep.” She kicked off her shoes and discarded her thoroughly worn work shirt. “I’ll tell you guys everything later, though there’s not much to it. Can you handle a few hours of the lunch shift without me?”
Elle yawned as she collapsed on the mattress. Her eyes were already closed, and Blue doubted that an answer was necessary.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Slight Shift of Everything
“Steve’s still not here yet?” Grettel inquired as Blue dropped off four orders.
“Not here, but everything’s okay. I can handle the lunch tables by myself. The Vems will just have to be patient. I’d rather Elle be sleeping right now.”
“I’d rather that useless Vemreaux show up for his shift,” Baird grumbled.
“Careful what you wish for,” Blue warned.
Steve did not grace the diner with his presence until one in the afternoon, leaving Blue to wait on all the lunch tables by herself. “Is there a reason you’re late?” Baird asked, whipping out his phone and hitting the sole preset speed dial. Without waiting for Steve to answer, Baird spoke into the device. “Joe, sir. It’s one o’clock and the waiter you sent us only just arrived. We appreciate that you’ve hired us help, sir, but if he shows up late again, I’m going to have to ask you to find us another waiter to replace him. Someone who’s worth what you’re paying.” He hung up the phone and eyed Steve, who had the decency to look mildly abashed.
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry or whatever.” Despite the mumbled apology, Steve moved as slow as he did the day before. He moseyed out onto the floor and took whatever section he wanted without asking Blue or thanking her for handling it all on her own.
Though she wanted to glare at him, it was more pertinent that she remain forgettable, so she kept her frustration to herself and allowed him to view her as a doormat. She thought of Elle working so hard and carrying more than she should of her burden. When she compared her friend’s massive efforts to Steve’s inability to show up on time, she cringed.
“Just one swift punch in the face,” she pleaded with her brother privately while he was setting out shot glasses in the bar to prepare for the night rush.
“No, Blue.”
“I could probably sneak up behind him and punch him out so fast, he wouldn’t even know it was me that did it.”
“I’ll let you know when we can test that theory.”
Steve sauntered past them and dropped his tray on the bar, speaking lazily to the waitress who’d been picking up his slack all afternoon. “I’m going out for an hour. You can handle it, Blue.”
Baird frowned as his sister tilted her chin to the ground and nodded with her mouth shut. Though he’d been the one who insisted she do so, there were times he hated seeing such a powerful creature so tethered. He knew eventually she’d have to let off some steam so that she did not randomly explode and cause some real damage. He made a note to spar with her personally that night after the diner closed so he could take the brunt of her frustration.
When her friend showed up at four-thirty, Blue was grateful for the help. Elle took the outdoor section after she helped Blue tear down the tables that covered the dancing area. Steve pretended to be doing something in the kitchen for ten minutes that kept him from being of any use.
Though Elle looked a little tired, none of her sparkle was gone. Every new table she greeted received a brilliant smile, and each attractive Vemreaux got a flirtatious look or remark to up her tip.
Though it was still light outside, Baird turned on the twinkling tent lights before switching from the kitchen to the bar. A few Vemreaux even cheered when Baird started making the first batch of Green Abby shots.
“Finally!” Lawrence called to Baird. “I’ll t
ake two for starters.” Instead of a bill, Lawrence slid a folded napkin across the bar to the Wayward.
Baird dropped it out of sight onto a few glasses, reading the scrawl as it opened.
Cops checking out a business next to one of mine. Gotta lay low. No more deliveries for a week or two.
Baird nodded covertly, tearing up the napkin and throwing it in the trash as Lawrence pounded back two of his favorite shots.
Before long, the tables filled up, leaving people to wait at the bar or enjoy the night in the outdoor area, which was also becoming more and more populated. The fresh air served as a powerful upper for Elle after the sleepless night. The breeze was only slight, but it was cool and stung her nose if she inhaled for too long. The fifth table in a row that she waited on wanted the same thing as the previous four: a round of Baird’s specialty. A few patrons ordered an actual meal, but most requested drinks and appetizers. After all, it was Friday night. Everyone knew that the testing had begun to find the Light. It was all that most of the tables prattled on about as Elle doled out the little glasses of green happiness.
“See that guy, Blue?” Elle asked her friend on one of the rare times that their busy paths crossed. They were patiently waiting for Baird to make more shots for them to take out to their anxiously awaiting tables.
Blue followed Elle’s focus and saw a man sitting with his two buddies. “Sure. What about him?”
“I bet he’s got a green bill card. See how relaxed his shoulders are? He’s comfortable enough. Judging by the flannel, though, my guess is he’s single and will be for quite some time.”
Blue raised an eyebrow at being let into Elle’s game. “What’s his name?” she asked, playing along.
“Probably Russell or something like that. Yeah, his name’s Russell and he makes a living selling outdoor equipment for Vemreaux yards.”
“Why’s he single?”
“Oh, he broke up with his last girlfriend because she didn’t like to go camping. Said she did when they started dating, but the big reveal came three months in. It was all downhill from there.”
“Women,” Blue complained, shaking her head in mock disappointment at her gender.
“I know. Anyone interesting in your section?”
“Well, there’s this Fem over here that’s got an aversion to wearing underwear.” Blue pointed to a brunette with bright red artificial streaks coloring her hair. “That’s Lulu. She’s a college student studying…the art of staring at the wall. She has great ambitions in life to work in a piercing parlor. There’s just one problem, though.”
“What’s that?” Elle pretended to pout in concern for the fictional plight.
“She’s deathly afraid of needles.”
Elle snorted. “Good one.”
“It goes back to a childhood trauma when her rich Vemreaux parents didn’t buy her a castle for Christmas. She threw herself on the floor and accidentally rolled over one of the Wayward servant’s sewing needles.”
“Those lazy Waywards.” Elle shook her head in disapproval.
“I know. It’s like, get a job already.”
Elle sniggered. “Know what other game I like to play?”
“What?”
“I like to count how many pairs of underwear I see. Most of them are Fems just showing off their goods ‘accidentally’.” Elle rolled her eyes. “You’d be surprised how many Vems are in desperate need of belts.”
Blue laughed aloud. “Well, they’ve got to budget, Elle. I mean, Green Abby shots aren’t free, you know. Belts don’t always rank high on the list when you’ve got your priorities straight.” She tapped her temple to indicate the superior reasoning. “Hey. How are you holding up for real?”
Elle sighed. “I’ve got a table outside with two judges I met at the testing. They were introduced to us with a bunch of other important Vemreaux, but that’s it. None of them really spoke to us. I guess they were watching us somehow like on a camera or something.” She scowled. “I hope they stayed up all night watching us do nothing and trying to stay awake after our physicals. I hope they’re real tired today. Now I have to go pretend I’m not sleepy at all.” She put on her best fake smile. Baird loaded up her tray with shots, and Blue did not miss that when he leaned in to supposedly whisper something in her ear, Elle’s knees nearly gave out beneath her.
Just then, two very good looking and sharply dressed Vemreaux caught Blue’s eye as they walked into the diner.
Elle hefted the tray onto her shoulder once she reclaimed her bearings. “Those guys definitely aren’t from around here. For real.” She nudged her best friend as she imparted the knowledge. “See the upright walk and the perfectly tailored clothing? They’re important, all right, but they’re not from Capital City. Probably good tippers. You take ’em before Steve does. My section’s full.”
A scantily clad Femreaux walked in front of the girls, sporting a skimpy lime green pair of panties that Blue could not understand the mechanics nor the practicality of.
“That makes forty-seven panties so far, and counting!” Elle smiled and winked at her friend.
“I need more shots, Baird,” Blue insisted.
“Go seat them,” he called over his shoulder as he turned away from her. “I’ll try to have your tray filled up when you come back.” He looked up and saw how many people his sister was waiting on. Steve moved so slowly that Baird wanted to make a beeline to the idiot and test out Blue’s stealth knockout theory. Blue’s section, which was supposed to be exactly half the inside of the diner, had magically morphed due to his laziness into two thirds of the tables.
Blue reached the hostess stand, refusing to look up as she addressed the men. “Two?”
“We’ll be four eventually. Got reservations under Brody.” Brody was average height with blond wavy hair that insisted upon tickling his forehead whenever possible. His body language was jerky instead of fluid, and the smile that hit his lips when he caught the eye of a nearby Fem had entirely too much agenda to it. “That one’s mine, Sam,” he informed his friend.
Blue checked the list. “Nothing under that name, sir.”
Brody frowned and rolled his eyes glumly. “Check under Alec, then.”
Blue found Baird’s indication and picked up four menus. “Right this way.” She led the two to a table near the center of the diner.
“No, not here,” Sam spoke up. He reached forward and touched Blue’s arm to get her attention. A static shock leapt from him to her, and she jumped, dropping the menus on the floor.
Blue was appalled she’d made the mistake, and hoped her brother would not catch her rare human moment. “Excuse me, sirs. I’m sorry!”
Sam dropped to his knees next to her and scooped up the nearest menu. She’d not looked at him properly yet, but froze as his strikingly handsome face filled her vision. Messy dark chocolate-colored hair, easy crooked smile, and black eyes that missed hers as she hid her face before he could really see it made her blush.
He turned to hand her the menu, and his knees knocked into hers. Blue tried to avoid the contact from the gorgeous man and ended up losing her perfect balance, toppling over onto her rear.
Her mouth hung open. She’d never fallen down, except on purpose to throw a fight or appear weaker than she was. The action dazed her, and she took four seconds to ponder the cause of her displacement.
Sam’s hand reached out to her after he stood and brushed himself off. “Sorry about that.”
She hesitated, and then took his hand, absorbing a second shock while trying not to absorb his good looks. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
“Up you go,” he grinned, confused when she kept her face from him. “Um, this table’s not going to work for us. Do you have a corner booth? The guys meeting us need it.”
His voice was strangely accented in a way she’d never heard before. She wanted to think of something clever to draw out more words from his slanted smile, but only nervous ramblings came to mind. “They’re occupied, but I can seat you here for now, and then mov
e you when one b-becomes a-available.” Her hand flew over her mouth at the blatant stutter.
Brody’s focus was still on the Fem he’d seen at the door. “That’s fine. Liam won’t be here for a bit. Can’t imagine they’ll have an easy time finding a cab this hour, either.”
She sat them at the open table and handed off the menus with a shaky hand, scolding herself harshly for the sudden breakdown in control. Things she never cared about before suddenly flooded into her brain. There was a stain on her shirt. Ugly. The shorts were too short for her liking. Ugly. Her knuckles were rough from outdoor Wayward work. Ugly. Her hair was not doing a perfect job of hiding her blush. Ugly.
“Ten bills says I take that Fem back to the hotel tonight,” Brody said to Sam.
“I’m not taking that bet. She looks plenty desperate.”
“I thought betting was your job.”
Sam gave Brody an annoyed frown. “There’s more to managing finances than betting. Skill. Pure skill.”
The two flipped open their menus lazily. Brody spoke to Blue without looking at her. “What’s your best drink?” There was an accent to his cadence that matched Sam’s.
“A Green Abby,” she replied without looking up.
Sam grumbled. “Oh, joy. Another one of those cryptic labels that tells you nothing. What’s in it?” He appeared studious as he took in the menu’s contents like a map. His slouch suggested that he spent many luxurious days with little troubles, but the no-nonsense expression that darkened the sunshine of his striking face threw her off in her assessment of his personality, which she was usually fairly good at. In that moment, before Blue could stop herself, she thought that Sam was the best looking Vemreaux she’d ever seen. Nervous, unfamiliar butterflies birthed themselves in her belly and hammered around like they were trying to escape out her navel. She made sure to keep him only in her periphery, so as not to stare.
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