Cracking up I glance away and bite my lip, trying to get serious so I can seduce her. I decide to change the subject, get to know her a little. “You have brothers, Meagan?”
Instantly I regret having asked. From the flash of sadness it’s a painful subject.
“I have a sister. We’re very close. Used to have a brother…”
My voice deepens. “Your brother died?”
On a quiet nod, she plays with her keys. “Yeah.”
“If any of my brothers passed away I’d wanna go with them.”
With her head down, she nods again. “I felt that way when I first heard. My mom wouldn’t get out of bed for two months. He was her only boy, and the youngest. Her baby.” She glances up and sees I’m listening with all the respect this subject deserves, so she quietly continues, “Cecily and I only got out of bed because we had to help Mom.”
“Your dad?”
“My poor father disappeared for months. He’d be in the room with us, but he wasn’t there, you know?”
“Yeah. My parents would be the same way. I’m so sorry. How did he go? Car accident?”
Meagan pauses. She raises her eyes and confesses, “He killed himself.”
My mouth slackens. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, meaning it.
She nods, eyes filling up. “Thank you.” Breathing in sharply, she shakes her head in an effort to stop the incoming pain. “I’m really tired, Jeremy. Thank you for the ride.”
“Of course.” Watching her unlock the passenger door, I hurriedly say, “Wait!”
Jumping out I go offer my hand. She slides her delicate fingers onto my palm to step out of the car. But on the sidewalk I draw her into a hug and whisper in her hair, “I’m so sorry about your brother.”
I let her go but she doesn’t move to leave.
Instead she just stares up at me and comes in for another hug.
I don’t question what it means.
She needs a friend.
So I hold her tight and expect nothing.
When she lets me go, I respond in kind, stepping back to give her room to head for home. Leaning against my Jeep I watch her walk away. “I’ll wait here and make sure you get in okay. Pop the light on twice when you get inside so I know you’re safe.”
She smiles over her shoulder. “Okay.”
Under the awning of her front door she pauses and waves to me before she disappears. Three seconds later the light flashes twice. The curtains move and I crane my neck a little. She meets my eyes through the window, looking so soft and beautiful. She gives another little wave and disappears.
It’s after two in the morning, but she just got me thinking about my own brother, the one I was closest to, who keeps trying to get back in. What have I been doing? What the fuck was I thinking?
I call Jake on the way home and strum my fingers on the steering wheel while I wait for him to answer.
“Jeremy? Everything alright? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Look, sorry to wake you, but…” I pause, struggling to say it. “You wanna grab a beer some night this week? Maybe we can go to The Local, like in the old days?”
He pauses and I know he’s stunned. His voice is lower as he tells me, “Fuck yes. I’m in.” Getting louder and more casual to avoid emotions, he announces, “Bout time you asked me out on a date.”
“You’re lame.”
“No, you’re lame.”
“I’m hanging up now, Jake.”
“I’m going to wait and listen to you breathing.”
Cracking up I swipe to hang up the call, muttering, “What a dumbass.”
Meagan
A knock at my door lifts my head up from the magazine. It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday, so I’m not expecting anyone. Maybe it’s the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Padding to the door in my pajamas I call through the wood, “Who is it?”
“Jeremy!”
My jaw drops and I smooth my hair down, thankful I already brushed my teeth.
What is he doing here?
Swinging it open I find him and his dog on my porch, both panting. “Um…hi, Jeremy. This is shocking.”
His deep brown eyes darken and he blinks to the street. “We were taking a run and Aslan dragged me this way. I recognized your street from when I drove you home. Thought I’d see if you’re up for a walk since we’re neighbors.”
My gaze flits down to his intimidating beast. “Oh.”
Jeremy reads my reaction and offers, “I was kidding when I said he’d only hurt you if I wanted him to. He’s harmless. Pet him.” Jeremy roughs up his dog’s head and gets a toothy, sloppy-tongued smile as reward. “See? Aslan’s just a big goofball.”
My heart stops at the name again, but at least this time it doesn’t take me by surprise, and I can store memories of Devin away, to be dealt with later. Always later.
“I need to change. Are you in a hurry?”
“Nope.”
“Okay…I guess I’ll come. Wait here.” Closing the door I race to my room and yank on leggings, a long, pink cotton shirt, and my running shoes before I dash into the bathroom to check my hair.
Funny how much I was looking forward to lying around the house and doing nothing until tonight’s shift, and then Jeremy shows up and I can’t get out of here fast enough.
I’ve got it pulled into a messy bun atop my head, and it looks casual but good. It would be too obvious if I changed it, right? Probably. A bit of lipstick later and I’m joining them outside.
“That took forever!” Jeremy groans.
I hit his chest and mutter, “No, it did not,” forcing myself not to touch his chest again. God, he is so cute.
“I’ve got grey hair now!”
“You already had grey hair. You’re like thirty right?”
“Never ask a guy how hold he is,” Jeremy smirks, heading to the sidewalk.
“Oh, okay,” I mutter with a knowing smirk of my own. “Forty?”
“I’m eighty-seven tomorrow.”
Stopping in the path my eyes widen. “Is it your birthday tomorrow?”
He cocks his head. “No, Meagan. I was kidding.”
“Well, I knew you were joking about your age but…”
“Come on. We need you to relax, huh, Aslan? Meagan’s too literal, isn’t she boy?” Jeremy gives a longer lead to his dog, letting him go ahead of us so we can walk together. Our hands are swinging as we walk and I have an insistent urge to hold his. There’s an electric current between our fingers like they shouldn’t be so separate.
“Why aren’t we running?” I glance to him out of the corner of my eye. “Lazy?”
He laughs really loudly. “Yeah! That’s me. Hate running. Can’t stand it. Never do it. You’re on. Aslan, go!” He takes off and I’m just a second behind him.
They pick up speed and I push myself to beat him, but there is no way that’s going to happen. I scream as he grabs a leaf and throws it behind him at me.
He laughs and calls back, “That the best ya got, Boss?”
My feet pound the pavement, coming to a loud and sloppy stop. “Okay! We’ll walk! Come back.”
Chuckling, Jeremy guides Aslan into a U-turn on the sidewalk and returns the twenty or so feet they had on me, while I cross my arms and shake my head. “You should have let me win.”
“Yeah, right!” Jeremy scoffs. “And lose your respect. Not worth it.”
We match steps and walk up the sunny residential street with birds flitting by above and very few cars passing. “This is nice. I’m glad you came by.”
We look at each other and his lips part like he’s about to say something. But he changes his mind and faces forward again, his gaze dropping to his beast. “Still scared of him?”
“Not sure yet. Ask me later.”
“Okay.” We walk in silence for three seconds. “Still scared?”
I grab his bicep, laughing, “Much later!” It’s hard to let go, but my fingers finally loosen and drop back to my side.
“I’ll take
you up on that,” he says under his breath.
“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”
Jeremy grabs another leaf from a new tree and hands it to me. “This is for you.”
“You shouldn’t have,” I dryly mutter, but I keep it and ask, “What did you mean before?”
“That I’ll ask you later if Aslan scares you,” he shrugs.
“No, there was a different tone in your voice. Like you meant something…else.”
Jeremy meets my eyes and I stop walking. He pulls on the leash and Aslan sees we’re taking a pause, and comes back to sit by us, panting and alert.
Jeremy gazes at me, his voice deepening, the smile gone. “What are you really asking, Meagan?”
It sounded like he meant years later. Like in a future he was planning later. I’ve caught Jeremy watching me more and more lately at the restaurant. Bryan and I have stopped sleeping together. We fizzled out big time before Jeremy drove me home that night. And this dark-eyed bartender was part of the reason. But I don’t know how to tell him that.
Bryan wouldn’t stand for us dating. No way would he allow that to go on while he was in charge of us.
“Why are you so serious all of a sudden?” I force a laugh. “I was messing with you. That’s what we do, right?”
He eyes me and nods. I step around his dog, giving it a wide berth and Jeremy chuckles. “Yeah, you’re still scared.”
I’m scared alright. Scared I won’t be able to just be friends with Jeremy for much longer. I want to feel his weight on me. I want to see what he tastes like. I want to know how it feels to be pulled into his arms and kissed for hours, even days. I want him, but I want my career more.
Meagan
Nine whole weeks since the grand opening and I haven’t cooked a damn thing here. Haven’t prepped a sauce. Haven’t marinated a lamb chop. Nothing.
To say I’ve got one toe out the door would be a lie. Half my body is out.
One of the things that stops me from quitting is how successful it’s become. To be associated with this restaurant can only help my career. And we do have fun, the employees and I, with or without Bryan’s approval. The time flies by until closing because of the employees, and then I’m reminded all over again as I do the books, that I’m not a fucking general manager so why am I doing this job?
Bryan and I are barely speaking. When it’s just us here outside of business hours, fighting in the office, it’s hell. I’m not skilled at hiding how I feel. He enjoys treating me with disrespect. That’s a lethal mix.
He hasn’t come in yet tonight so I’m in a better mood than last night, that’s for sure. I threw a chopped carrot at his perfect head. After he’d left the kitchen and couldn’t see me do it, of course.
“Where is he?” I mutter while reading the reservation list.
“I haven’t had a drink in a whole week,” Mira confides in me as the front door opens and a party of six strolls in, all smiles as they glance around and see how packed it is.
“That’s great,” I whisper, touching her arm. “Keep it up.”
“I will.” She raises her voice to greet the new guests. “Welcome to Le Marchand. Are there six of you this evening?”
“Seven,” one of the men answers as he shakes rain out of his white hair. “My brother is running late.”
“Wonderful. What’s the name?”
“We don’t have a reservation.”
Mira glances to me. I hold his eyes and inform him, gently but with authority, “Saturday nights are always busy, but you’re welcome to wait in the bar and we can take your name down for the first available.”
“How long’s the wait?”
Mira glances to her iPad. “An hour, at least.”
The group whispers amongst themselves but a woman in her mid thirties in a Diane Von Furstenberg dress I would kill for, smiles and waves their concerns away. “That’s fine! Remember? This is the place from the Bon Appétit article I told you about! With the fancy bartenders! It’ll be fun!”
A few faces brighten and their spokesman nods and glances into the restaurant for a look, saying, “Oh, right. Well, good. We’ll have some cocktails while we wait.” He touches one of his friend’s arms. “Give us a chance to catch up.”
“And get hammered.”
Smiling away from him their spokesman tells Mira, “Name’s Conway, thanks.”
“We’ll let you know the progress, Mr. Conway,” Mira smiles. Several of the six are observing her beauty and have to be pulled away from the distraction as the group moves inside.
I take a deep breath and sigh. I cannot wait for tomorrow morning. The only thing I look forward to now is our Sunday walks.
As Mira types his name into the iPad she glances to me. “I heard that. But I don’t think they did.”
“What? Was I loud? God, I’ve got to get a hold of myself.” I head away and slip a hand in my dress’s pocket for my phone. It’s vibrating. Again. What an asshole. “Yes, Bryan?”
“I’m not coming in tonight. I got delayed in New Orleans.”
I stop, the overflowing and very loud restaurant in front of me as I hush my voice to demand, “You’re not even in Georgia right now?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Since when do I tell you where I am?”
I blink, stunned. “It’s Saturday. Our busiest night! Do you need me in the kitchen to cover anyone?”
Like you, the head chef!
What the hell is he doing?
“I called in Pierre. But Meagan, you pull this off on your own tonight, and you just might be cooking tomorrow.”
My heart leaps into my throat. “Really?”
“I have to go.”
“Okay. Have fun…doing whatever you’re doing.” He hangs up, and I get the hugest smile on my face. Quick strides bring me to Jeremy’s side, behind the bar as he tells a customer, “If you’re not happy with him, don’t put up with it, Viola.”
She looks like he’s saying the impossible. “You don’t understand, Jeremy! It’s not that easy!”
He pours a splash of soda water from the gun over her fresh Chopin Vodka. “Boss needs me. Hold that thought! I’ll be right back.” He takes me by the elbow and guides me away.
We’ve become friends since our morning walk, and have even made it a regular Sunday thing, though neither of us planned that aloud. He just showed up the next week, and I happened to be dressed for a walk and waiting by the door, just in case. Same thing happened the following Sunday. And the next.
The conversations have been easy with a lot of teasing and laughter, peppered with tense moments that were dangerously close to making us more than friends.
I know he likes me now, and he must know I’m crazy about him from how happy I am when we’re together, and how long I’ve stretched those morning walks with things like, “Let’s just go three more blocks.”
“Three, huh? So specific,” he chuckled, but didn’t tease me more.
We both know without needing to say it, we don’t want to get fired. The only safe way to see each other is in daylight where clothes are more likely to stay on.
He’s become my confidant with how unhappy I’ve been with this endless test Bryan has put me through. So naturally I have to tell him my news.
“Why the grin, Boss Lady?” he smiles.
Barely suppressing an excited scream I quietly tell him, “I’d just begun to give up hope!”
His whole face lights up. “You’re going to cook tonight?”
Shaking my head I correct him, and touch his arm. “No, not tonight. But Bryan just told me he’s not coming in, that this is my final test and if I pass? I’m cooking tomorrow night!”
“He’s not coming in tonight?” Jeremy’s eyes flicker, then his smile broadens. “You ready?”
I roll my eyes and let go of his arm. He looks down to the empty space where it was, for a quick second.
“I’ve been ready since before we opened. And I haven’t told yo
u this, but on two of my nights off every week I’ve cooked for my sister Cecily and her husband. All dishes from our menu to stay practiced.”
“Well played, Boss.” His eyebrows shoot up as his lips purse with appreciation. “Bet they loved that.”
“Jealous?”
“Very.”
“It’s been eating into my salary, but who cares? Cess pitched in, but the ingredients we use are the top of the line, of course. You want to be the best, you have to pay the price!”
We gaze at each other a moment. “True,” he says with a look in his eyes that seems to mean more than food cost. My eyes flash to the ground. “So don’t mess up tonight.”
He laughs and heads back to his station. “Don’t worry, Boss. I’ve got your back.” To Cathy and Lana he calls out, “Hey ladies, what time is it?”
“Wow time!” they both shout.
“And what time is that?”
In unison like a military march song they call back, “Time for a free drink and a free show!”
“What kind o’ show?”
“A free WOW show!”
“How do we do it?”
“Right!”
“When do they get it?”
“Right! Now!”
A hush has fallen over the restaurant. Everyone is craning their necks to watch. Some stand. The trio only does this once a night, and word has spread.
One after the other in perfect rhythm they grab a martini glass, slamming the long stemmed base onto rubber drip mats.
First Jeremy. Bam.
Then Cathy. Bam.
Then Lana. Bam.
They all pick them up and slam them twice, at the same time. Bam Bam.
Together they shove their scoopers into the ice and fill the glasses to chill them. Then one after the other like before, they pick up a silver shaker and spin it high in the air, catching and filling it with ice, this time faster than when they got the glasses, but in the same order – Jeremy, Cathy, Lana.
Together they spin vermouth bottles at the same time, catch them upside and pour the clear liquid over the ice in a long stream. Covering the shaker with an upside down pint glass the trio hammers the shakers in the air, in unison, no one out of step, before simultaneously pouring excess Vermouth onto the floor where the drain under the rubber mats will take it away.
Cocky Soldier: A Military Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 6) Page 11
