Interference

by Sophia Henry

  “And for you?” I coughed my own smile away as I lifted my chin and focused my attention on the officer.

  “I’ll have the same thing. I love pigs.” He held out his menu, a smug smile spreading across his face. “With fries, please.”

  “Oh, good lord, Jason,” his mom hissed, emphasizing her annoyance with an eye roll.

  Jason. Officer Jackweed had a first name.

  “Touché.” I nodded as I plucked the menu from his hands, spinning away toward the safety of my computer. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the cop was flirting with me.

  It took every ounce of willpower I had not to look over at Jason. Thanks to his mom, I now knew the name of the infuriating, hot, jerky, muscular, arrogant, sexy man I hadn’t been able to get out of my head since I saw him at my brother’s game.

  “Indie!”

  My head snapped up, breaking me out of the fog of thoughts I’d disguised while inputting the dinner order. How long had Kristen, a server who went by her initials, KK, been calling me?

  “Yeah. Sorry. What?” I couldn’t get the right word out.

  Get it together, girl. Stop thinking of Jason’s buff forearms.

  “Did you make that Bloody Mary for table thirty-three?” KK asked.

  “Table thirty-three?” I glanced at Jason, whose eyes caught mine, then shook my head and looked at the tiny printer on the end of the bar, buzzing as it spewed orders the servers had punched in from the dining room computer.

  Damn. Bloody Mary for table thirty-three. Four ales, two reds, and a Weizen for various other tables.

  Time to get my head back in the game, especially since the printer wouldn’t stop. No looking at Jason until I had to check on how his meal tasted. Usually, I wasn’t easily thrown, especially by a guy.

  It’s because he’s new in town. That’s his intrigue. His mystery.

  The drink orders never slowed, and I turned my focus back to my customers at the bar and in the dining room. On busy nights, I usually had a second bartender helping with the madness, but Stacy had called in sick at the last minute and I hadn’t found a replacement. I couldn’t even be angry with her, since she was three months pregnant. I knew how fast morning sickness came on, and how there was no working around it some days.

  I’d been so busy filling drink orders and waiting on my customers at the bar that I hadn’t even had a chance to check on Jason and his mom. Thankfully, a porter had brought out their meals. At my first free moment, I wandered over to Jason.

  “You scared off your own mom?” I asked, nodding to the empty chair next to him.

  “She’s using the restroom.” Jason took a sip of his beer. “Are you gonna throw sarcastic comments at me all night, or talk to me?”

  “What do you want to talk about?” I asked, filling a pint glass with red ale.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Not a question I’d expected.

  “How is that your business?”

  “You smell like a dude,” he blurted out.

  I curled my fingers around the glass, which had almost slipped out of my hand. “Excuse me?”

  “Shit. I meant you smell like men’s cologne,” Jason said, backtracking. “It wasn’t an insult.”

  “I like the smell of men’s cologne better than perfume.” I set the first pint aside and began filling a second.

  “Why’d you skip the boyfriend question?”

  “Because it’s not your business.”

  Jason leaned in, his voice low. “It is if I want to ask you out.”

  “You what?” I readjusted my grip on the glass and pushed the handle of the tap back to stop the flow of beer.

  “I think we should hang out.” Jason wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate.

  “That’s the best you can do, copper? I thought you were smoother than that.” I winked and walked away, carrying the beers I’d filled to the end of the bar for a server to pick up. Then I made a Moscow Mule and checked on a few other customers sitting at the bar before printing Jason’s check and placing it in front of him.

  “Will you please go on a date with me?” Jason asked, not missing a beat.

  My heart pounded against my chest. I was both flattered and frustrated by his persistence. “You expect me to say yes, don’t you?”

  “It’s obvious that you like me.” Jason’s blue eyes twinkled, catching light from the pendulum fixture hanging over the bar.

  “I like looking at you,” I countered, “but your personality leaves a bit to be desired.”

  “Really?” The skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

  “Let’s pretend I’d ever say yes. Where would a cocky cop take someone on a first date?” I couldn’t wait to hear what he thought was fun.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “You ask me on a date and you don’t even know where you’re going to take me?” I lifted his plate and wiped crumbs and condensation off the bar with a towel. “That’s sad, copper.”

  “Why would you assume that?” he asked, his tone indignant.

  “Can I be honest?” I asked. Time to strike the final blow. Though Jason had my insides flipping like no one ever had before, now wasn’t the right time to start dating. I had a million things to worry about before opening up my heart again.

  “Please.” He nodded.

  “You moved to a small town to be a cop and coach hockey.” I paused. “You sound like a total bore.”

  Jason didn’t have a snappy comeback and I wondered if I’d taken it too far. It was meant to be a joke, but maybe I’d hurt his pride by pointing out the obvious. Bridgeland wasn’t a hotbed of crime. Seemed like an easy gig.

  His silence persisted as he reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. Finally, he caught my eyes, though the spark from before had dimmed. “Then you shouldn’t be afraid to say yes.”

  He had a point.

  Before waiting for me to respond, he continued. “Do you work on Monday night?”

  “I’m off, but—” I paused to mentally check my schedule. And Mom’s schedule. And D’s schedule. Someone had to be home with Holden.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven thirty,” he said.

  “I didn’t say yes.” I spun around, flustered by his presumption. My grip tightened on the plates I’d picked up off the bar, and the pounding of my heart increased.

  A multicolored scarf flashed in my peripheral vision, alerting me to his mom’s return.

  Jason glanced over his shoulder. “Can you drop the attitude now that my mom’s back?”

  I spun to face him and squared my shoulders. “I didn’t have an attitude.”

  “There was definite attitude, dear,” his mom said as Jason held the chair steady so she could hop onto it.

  “See?” Jason nodded toward his mom. He might as well have stuck his tongue out and sung, “Na na na boo boo.”

  “I never said you didn’t deserve it, Jason,” his mom told him as she straightened the bright scarf at her neck.

  A mom that put her son in his place was a perfect mom in my book. Other than my own, Tim’s mom was the only one I had any experience with. And her little Timmy-wimmy could do no wrong. Even after he’d knocked me up and left me to raise the kid by myself so he wouldn’t mess up his football scholarship.

  “Indie, this is my mom, Sharon Taylor,” Jason said, introducing us.

  When Sharon reached out, I took her hand and shook it. “I hope you liked everything, Ms. Taylor. Thanks so much for coming.”

  “It was all wonderful. The ribs were an amazing recommendation, and that raspberry beer is delicious.”

  “Glad I could help.” I picked up Sharon’s plate. “I hope you join us again.”

  Before I walked the dirty dishes back to the kitchen, I turned to face Jason again. “My number’s in there.” I nodded at the black case that held the check. I’d jotted it on a cocktail napkin and slid it in before I lost my nerve.

  I’d been asked on dates at work before, b
ut I’d never said yes. I wasn’t even sure what it was about the cop that made me agree. Maybe it was how he acted with his mom. How he’d helped her onto her chair, spoken kindly, and looked at her with total respect and devotion. I hoped Holden would look at me like that someday.

  “Do you want another drink, Mom?” Jason asked.

  “I’m good, sweetheart. I want to get to the car so you can fill me in on everything that happened while I was in the restroom.” Sharon rubbed her hands together.

  I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as I strode away, letting my other customers know I’d be right back.

  Once I’d pushed through the double doors into the safety of the kitchen, KK stopped me.

  “You’ve been in la-la land all night. Is it because you were waiting on panty-dropping-sexy Officer Taylor?”

  “What?” I played dumb as I deposited the dirty dishes in the sink in the back of the kitchen. I couldn’t argue with the description. At all.

  “Let me know if he has fur for those handcuffs, would ya?” KK said to tease me as she opened the fridge that stored premade dinner salads.

  “Dude. His mom is out there.” I felt my cheeks burn as I peered through the window to the bar area. Thankfully, Jason and Sharon had already left.

  KK was by far my favorite server at Peak City. Whether she was starting an impromptu dance party, or flirting with numerous customers, the girl was fun and lively, and she always said what was on her mind.

  The kitchen door swung on its hinges and almost smacked me in the nose. I staggered back a few steps.

  “Holy! Sorry, Indie,” Auden, KK’s best friend, apologized after she’d pushed through.

  “No problem.” I pointed behind me with my thumb. “Your crazy friend is getting a salad.”

  “Hey, bitch-ass.” KK appeared, balancing two salads and a basket of rolls on her tray.

  “Can I have one of those?” Auden reached for a roll.

  KK dodged her, easily shuffling to the side to protect the basket. “Get a few and grab some ranch. I’ll be there in a minute. I just picked up a table.”

  “You can sit at the bar and keep me company if you want,” I offered.

  Auden nodded and headed back to the huge drawer that kept the dinner rolls warm.

  I still had no clue how Auden pulled off waltzing in and grabbing rolls from the kitchen of a restaurant she didn’t work at. Last year, Pat, Peak City’s owner, had tried to steal Auden away from her job at Johnny’s Diner with the lure of rolls and ranch on every shift. Auden always refused to leave Johnny’s, but took Pat up on the rolls and ranch part, helping herself whenever she came to visit.

  “How’s Charlotte?” I asked, when we were back at the bar, and turned on scalding-hot water to wash pint glasses. On a normal night, my shift would be ending soon, but I had to stay until closing, since I didn’t have a second bartender. Maybe I could get Pat to take over the bar. But probably not.

  “Weird. It’s pretty and clean. I’m like, what is this magical place?” Auden joked as she tore a roll in half.

  “Big difference from Detroit, eh?”

  “Huge. But I can’t complain. Because Aleksandr is doing amazing.” Her eyes lit up when she talked about her boyfriend. “He’s already the Aviators’ leading goal scorer. I know it’s only a month into the season, but still.” She shrugged. “Hey, can I grab a Pepsi?”

  Without waiting for my response, she jumped off her chair.

  “Auden!” I held up a pint glass and the pop-gun from under the bar. “I got it.”

  She stopped midstride and her lips rolled into a guilty smile. “Crap. Sorry, Indie. I’m so used to doing it myself.” Auden slithered back onto her chair.

  “No worries.” I smiled and filled up the glass. “Do you do that at other restaurants?”

  “No!” She laughed. “Okay, once. Sasha and I were eating at this place in Charlotte, and the drink station was right behind our booth. Why would I bother the waitress?”

  “You’re a freak,” I joked, and handed her the Pepsi.

  “That’s what they say,” she said.

  That was Auden for you. Her boyfriend has a multimillion-dollar contract playing hockey in the NHL for the Charlotte Aviators, yet she thinks in terms of pulling her weight and paying her own way.

  No gold-digging puck bunny there.

  —

  When I got home from work, I ran upstairs to drop a kiss on Holden’s forehead and change into comfy pj’s. I found Mom and Damien sacked out in the living room, so I squeezed onto the end of the couch where Mom was curled up, wrapped in an afghan. I tucked my legs under me, lifted the bottom of her blanket and draped it over my lap.

  “Do you work on Monday night?” I asked her.

  “Nope,” she mumbled sleepily, her eyes still on the TV screen.

  “Can you watch Holden?” I weaved my fingers through the small holes of the multicolored, crocheted blanket.

  “Did you pick up a shift?”

  “No. I have…” I paused. “I have a date.” The words sounded so foreign coming out of my mouth. My first, and only, proper date had been during freshman year of high school when Tim asked me out.

  Mom sat up. “You have a date?” she asked, doing nothing to keep the surprise from her voice. “Who would ask you out?”

  “Geez, Mom.” I kicked her under the covers. “You act like I’m a freaking leper.”

  She kicked me back. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just wondered who the lucky guy was.”

  “Good save, Mom.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on, Linden. Who is it?” she pressed.

  I glanced at my brother, sprawled out in our recliner, sleeping. “Damien’s coach,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “Shhhhh!” I hushed her and checked to make sure D hadn’t woken up. I didn’t feel like dealing with his wrath.

  “How did that happen?” Mom said, lowering her voice and leaning toward me.

  “He came in to Peak City to eat with his mom and he asked me.” I shrugged and twisted the afghan.

  “He asked you in front of his mother?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly. She was in the bathroom, but she knew he asked me.” I paused, contemplating how to express my next thought. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that he brought her to Peak City to eat. I think he knew I’d be there.”

  “Didn’t you walk in here a week or so ago ranting about him pulling you over and escorting you home?” Mom said.

  “Yes.”

  “So why the change of heart?”

  “It felt good to have someone interested in me,” I admitted.

  “A lot of men in this town have been interested in you, Linden,” Mom reminded me. “You’re a beautiful girl with an amazing heart.”

  She hit the nail on the head when she said “men in this town.” That was the point. I wasn’t interested in any of the men in this town. Everyone here saw me as a stupid girl who got pregnant hoping to trap the high school football hero. They didn’t see me for who I’d had the potential to be before I’d gotten pregnant. I’d received an academic scholarship to the University of Michigan, where I planned on studying pharmaceutical sciences.

  But instead of sympathy when I couldn’t accept my scholarship and continue on my career path, I was seen as another sad, single mom with no ambition. Stuck in Bridgeland for another generation.

  Not that I had any intentions of leaving Bridgeland, since I could be a pharmacist anywhere, but unless more new people like Jason Taylor moved to town, I was destined to be a spinster.

  “He doesn’t know my background. Doesn’t have any preconceived notions about me.”

  “Fuck what people think about you, Linden,” Mom said in her usual blunt way. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I know,” I said softly. And deep down, I did know that. But it’s hard to remember when you grew up in as small a town as I did. “I don’t even know how to act on a date. Tim and I never really dated.”

  N
ew all-time low: asking my forty-something mom for dating advice.

  “Be yourself and have fun.”

  “Those two don’t go together in my world, since being myself these days is running around stressed-out and frazzled.”

  Mom leaned forward and pushed my hair out of my eyes. “No, it isn’t. You are strong and responsible.” She let go of my hair and pinched her thumb and index finger together. “And a little bit snarky. I bet that’s what attracted him to you.”

  “Guys like raging bitches who yell at them during hockey games? Huh. Good to know.” I nodded.

  “What are you talking about?” Damien asked with a scratchy voice. He sat up in his seat.

  “Jason Taylor asked me out,” I admitted. No reason to hide it. He’d find out soon enough.

  “You are not going on a date with my coach.” His voice was an octave away from a growl.

  “Go back to sleep and mind your own business,” Mom said.

  He slammed the footrest of the recliner down. “It is my business. You could date anyone in this town and you chose my coach?”

  “Like Mom said, he’s got a nice ass,” I joked, to rile him up even more.

  Mom giggled. Damien shot us both murderous glares. Which made me laugh harder.

  “You two are so freaking hilarious.” He stood up and stomped out of the room.

  “Too far?” I asked Mom.

  “You are so my daughter,” she responded.

  Her comment made me smile, even if the joke had been at my brother’s expense.

  Before Mom met Mr. Kelso, she was a serial dater. She enjoys going on dates and meeting new people. But as much as she liked all of that, she also takes pride in being able to take care of herself. She taught me that I could be with a man without having to rely on a man. Happiness should come from within, not because a guy shows interest. And I agree with her, even though it felt good to have the interest.

  I’m convinced that was why, despite being left with two kids to take care of on a waitress’s salary, she always maintained a good attitude. She never complained. She loves living her life with no one to answer to.

  Her philosophy suited me.

  Chapter 9

  Jason

  Indie greeted me with a smile when she met me halfway down the walkway leading up to her house.