by S. Cook
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“You’re crossing a very dangerous line. I suggest you leave.”
“Not yet.”
Lynette was infuriating me. I understood she needed to pretend to be strong because sometimes that’s the only way to get through the day. She might have everyone else around her fooled, but not me.
Looking at her tired, yet beautiful face I had to admit, I preferred her looking like this than dressed in a slinky gold dress that barely covered her ass. As luscious as it was.
The woman who stood before me right now with dirty clothes and an exhausted, yet temperamental look on her face, was the real deal.
“No, you can go. I’m fine, so consider your debt paid,” she hissed.
“No, it’s not. Let me help you. With something, anything. You're exhausted.”
I reached out to her, and to my surprise, she didn't back away. She allowed me to touch her face, my thumb tracing the dark line under her eye.
“Please, let me help you with something.”
She was momentarily stilled, but then regained that feistiness and smacked my hand away.
“Cut it out! I said I was fine and I meant it. “
I wasn't going to win this one, so I simply nodded.
“That box,” I said, pointing at the elaborate gift-wrapped package on the table, “is for you. I thought you should have it.”
“Whatever, Army boy. Just get out. The bar will be opening soon and I’m way behind. I’ve got work to do. You’ve taken up too much of my time as it is.”
With one long last look at her face, I turned back to the table and grabbed my cane. Clearly there was nothing I could do or say that would change the way she felt at this moment, so there was no point. I had pressed her enough and she clearly didn't like it. I continued out the door without another word.
She followed closely behind me and locked the door with a loud click as soon as I was outside. I noticed she didn't say good-bye, not that I expected her to.
I stood outside on the sidewalk in the sunlight, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do next. I had an obligation, and I couldn't just walk away, but how could I stay when she wanted me gone?
I leaned against the side of the building out of her sight and pondered my next move. If Lynette thinks she can get rid of me so easily, she’s in for a big disappointment.
I made a promise that I intend to keep.
Chapter 5: Lynette
The Speakeasy was busy for a Thursday night. I was behind the bar filling orders. The baseball game blasted loudly on the TV above me.
By nine, I had already stopped thinking about the visit from Gabriel, being too wrapped up in the running of the bar. One of my waitresses had called in sick so we were short staffed, as usual. The regular bar patrons kept me hopping which wasn’t a bad thing. Being overwhelmed gave me less time to think.
“Lynette! Get me another beer!”
“What happened to my order of fries?”
“Your sweet ass is looking mighty fine tonight in those shorts, Lynette!”
On and on it went.
Constantly being called over, ordered around, and objectified. I smiled broadly while filling orders, delivering food to tables and mixing drinks. My backup, Tanya covered the bar alone when I took over the waitress’s shift.
I moved on autopilot. I was exhausted. Gabriel had been right about that, but there was no time to rest, not even to sit down for a moment. Thank God, the night was almost over with final call in less than an hour.
I hustled to the kitchen window with a fistful of new orders with the intention of swapping for the filled orders when Tanya stuck her head through the window.
“Sorry to do this, but Tami just called. She quit. Said she’ll be in next week to pick up her check.”
“What? When did that happen,” I exclaimed, feeling my world crumble at my feet.
I didn't need any more bad shit in my life. Tami hadn’t been the most trustworthy employee in the world, but when she was at work, she gave it her all.
Tanya shrugged.
“I don't know, an hour ago? I wanted to let you know before I left for the night. By the way, I’ve got to leave early tonight. The sitter can't stay late again.”
I nodded.
“Shit! Let’s close the kitchen for the night then. Jesus Christ! When it rains, it pours.”
Tanya nodded back at me and returned to work. When I reached the kitchen counter, I knocked against the metal to get Bill, the cook’s attention.
“Hey! Shut it down in there. We're losing Tanya early and I need to tend bar.”
Bill shrugged nonchalantly and started turning off the fryers. I grabbed the last few orders and headed back into the crowded bar. After delivering them, I found the patrons whose orders I wouldn’t be filling and explained why. Naturally they were pissed as hell and left.
I cursed to myself, hating to lose the revenue. It wasn’t like I had a choice though. With half my staff deserting me, I was needed behind the bar. I couldn’t be everywhere at once. What does it take to find dependable employees these days?
I hurried behind the bar while Tanya was wrapping up her last drink order.
“I hate leaving you in a tight spot like this,” she said.
I wanted to scream, “Don’t leave me!”
Instead I just smiled and said, “It’s okay, family first. See you tomorrow.”
Family first. Yeah, right. For everyone else.
By the time the last drunk had left the bar, I was ready to drop down on the floor and pass out. Even though I had been left in a lurch by my staff, my drunken father had failed to make an appearance, so it wasn't all bad.
I couldn’t count the number of times in the past he would stumble in here, cause a scene, and leave me feeling embarrassed and powerless. Not to mention the insults he would throw around before locking himself in the office and passing out. Once I even had to call a locksmith to open the door because my father couldn’t wake up from his drunken stupor and I needed to get money from the safe.
With a loud, tired sigh, I locked the door behind the last customer and pulled down the blinds. It was just after two and I still needed to clean the place up.
“I’m heading out!” I heard Bill yell from the kitchen.
The kitchen door slammed closed and I knew he wasn't coming back in to help with anything else. Usually one of the girls stayed to help with the clean-up, but with Tanya leaving early and Tami quitting there just wasn't anyone else to do it.
Story of my life.
I grimly grabbed a broom and started to clean. The place was a mess, as bars naturally were. The floor was sticky, like the tables and the counters. In fact, everything was dirty.
Three hours later, I finally stumbled into my apartment, smelling of cigarette smoke, liquor and sweat. The worst possible combination in my opinion.
I stepped into the apartment and noticed that. my father wasn't home. I pulled off my sneakers and stumbled down the hall to my bedroom. Not even bothering to change, I fell face first into bed and was asleep seconds later.
Chapter Six: Gabriel
I’d been called stubborn before though I’d always preferred the word persistent. I didn’t give up easily. Not when something was worth fighting for.
I doubted Lynette would see my stubbornness as an admirable trait. When she escorted me out of her father’s bar, I knew she didn't want me to step foot inside there ever again.
But how could I not?
I’d promised Terry that I would make sure she was okay if anything were to ever happen to him. I owed him that much.
I was determined to talk to her one last time and made my way over to the Speakeasy. It was still early morning, and everything was locked up, but I knew she was in there. I could hear her inside the kitchen muttering to herself. At times it sounded as if she was singing, but then at other times it sounded more like she was giving the universe a piece of her mind. It was amusing, until I realized that I was
lurking below the window of the kitchen in the back alley like a stalker.
I straightened up and glanced around, hoping no one called the cops on me, and headed to the front entrance. I knew she had a lot on her plate and probably forgot to lock the front door, again.
I tried the door and it opened. A brief smile appeared on my lips as I made my way inside the bar. The place was clean and already setup for the new day. When I didn’t spot her right away, I decided to make myself at home. At least until Lynette came and chased me out again.
No, not this time.
I wasn't going to allow her to chase me away again. I knew we had gotten off to a terrible, and rather unusual start, but that was an honest mistake. I had no idea who she was when we met at the nightclub.
The picture that I carried in my wallet for the last three years didn't give me a clear indication of what she looked like now, so it was a little unfair of her to accuse me that I knew it had been her all along.
After all it had been a gay bar for heaven’s sake. The last place I would think to look for her.
I sat down on the bar stool and placed my cane on the counter. Lynette had gone quiet in the kitchen. I wondered whether she had opened the package I brought her.
Most likely not.
She’d treated me with such anger and hostility, I was sure that she threw the package in the trash or set it on fire first.
“How the hell did you get in here?” her voice suddenly cracked the silence.
I glanced at her over my shoulder and leaned back against the backrest of the barstool.
“The front door,” I answered with a grin. “You should start locking your doors. There’s no telling who might come wandering in.”
“Fuck,” she mouthed and shook her head in disapproval. “Why are you back here? I thought I made it clear we’re done. Finished.”
“Waiting for you to take my order. You're open, right?” I asked with a half-smile.
She rolled her eyes and stepped behind the counter.
“Yeah, we're open now. What'll be? A beer?”
“Bourbon. On the rocks,” I replied.
“Whatever. I'm not sure what you're after here exactly, but I'm going to honest with you. I don't have time for whatever is going on. I've got this place to run.” She placed a napkin down in front of me and poured my drink. “Whatever you think this is, it isn't. You made your apology. I accepted it. End of story.”
“I did,” I nodded, “but I wanted to come by here one last time before I leave town to make sure you're okay. You don't seem okay.”
Her eyes had a clouded appearance, like a storm was brewing in them and I braced myself for impact. Something warned me Hurricane Lynette could be a vicious one.
“You're bordering on being a stalker.”
“Call the police.” I shrugged. “I made a promise to your brother.”
The bar door opened and Cheryl, her friend from the gay club, walked in wearing shorts and a t-shirt with her copper-colored hair pulled into a tight pony tail.
“Hey girl!” she said. “Here I am to help, as promised.”
She stopped short when I turned to face her.
“Holy shit! You’re the guy from the club!”
I chuckled in amusement as I stood up and extended my hand to her.
“It’s good to see you again, Cheryl. I’m Gabriel.”
“I remember,” she said as she shook my hand.
“Yes, Gabriel,” Lynette said as she stepped out from behind the bar. “That guy from the club that you drove off and left me with. That was not a nice thing for a friend to do by the way.”
“Aren’t you glad I did?”
Cheryl beamed and stared directly into my face.
“You’re even more good-looking than in the dark. Your eyes are gorgeous.”
I chuckled and let go of her hand.
“Thank you.”
“What are you doing here then? Couldn't get enough of our little Lynette?” She suggestively wiggled her eyebrows.
Before I could answer, I shot a brief glance at Lynette, who looked both equally appalled and embarrassed.
“No.” Lynette shrugged and crossed her arms. “It turns out Gabriel here is a friend of my brother's. From the Army. Isn't that funny? And a huge coincidence?”
Cheryl raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Terry's friend? What's he doing here?”
I started to explain when she cut me off before I could get a word out.
“Wait, you don’t know, do you?” Cheryl asked me with a frown. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but Terry's dead. Been in the ground for about three years now.”
Clearly Cheryl was either born without a filter or was completely insensitive. I glanced at Lynette who simply shrugged her shoulders and then turned away, clearly not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer.
“I know,” I said softly. “I was there with him when he passed. I came to check on Lynette.”
Cheryl snorted like she didn’t believe me.
“After three years? What happened? The ghost of the brother that left her high and dry told you to come see her?” She called out to Lynette’s back. “Were you guys pen pals or is he just stalking you now?”
“Told you were being a little stalkerish,” Lynette said with a smirk on her face.
“Duly noted,” I replied with an eye roll. “Thank you.”
The phone rang, and Lynette walked over to answer it as she mumbled, “Please God, don’t let this be another one of my lazy ass employees calling in sick. Hello, Speakeasy, how can I help you?”
Cheryl gave me a dirty look, and I sat back down on the bar stool.
“Where are you?” Lynette asked and turned towards us. “You're supposed to be walking in my door five minutes ago.”
“Uh oh. Sounds like trouble,” Cheryl muttered beside me.
I noticed Lynette’s shoulders tense up and her eyes flashed.
“It's Friday night, Bill. You can't be calling in on a Friday!”
“Who’s Bill?” I whispered to Cheryl.
“Jealous?”
“No, of course not.”
“He’s the cook,” she muttered and disappeared into the kitchen.
Right.
Lynette slammed down the phone.
“Dammit!”
“What?” Cheryl asked, coming back from the kitchen with ice for the bar.
“Guess who just called in? I have no cook on a Friday night,” Lynette exclaimed as she took the ice from Cheryl and dumped it.
Now was the time to step up and do something. I wanted to help Lynette, and now was my chance. I slid off the bar stool and walked to the back of the bar towards the kitchen.
“Hey! Where are you going, Army boy?” Lynette half-shouted. “Customers aren’t allowed in the kitchen. Restrooms are the other way.”
I looked at her, my head cocked to the side.
“To the kitchen. You need a cook.”
“Oh, you're a cook now?”
“Nope, but it can't be that difficult to run a grill and a deep-fryer.”
The two women exchanged worried glances and Lynette sighed.
“Are you known for gourmet meals here?” I asked. “Do I need some sort of degree from a culinary institute? I’ve watched the Food Network if that helps any.”
Before she could open her mouth to answer, Cheryl interrupted.
“Honey, I don't think you even know how to run the kitchen,” she said. “I'll show him where everything is at.”
“Fine, whatever,” Lynette replied, throwing up her hands in defeat. “I'll set up the bar. Can’t get much worse than it already is.”
I flashed her a smile and followed Cheryl to the kitchen. Even though the kitchen was of average size, everything had its place, and Cheryl seemed to know where everything was. She showed me how the grill worked and where all the frozen, fresh and refrigerated items were stored. She also showed me how the plating worked, and where she would collect them once an order
was ready.
“Got it?” she asked after a few minutes.
“I think so, but if I need to, I’ll ask.”
“I’ll help from time to time,” she offered. “God knows Lynette could use our help.”
“I take it you’ve helped her out before,” I said.
“More times than I can keep track of, but I don’t mind. She’s my friend.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“That’s right. I look after her because that’s what friends do. Tell me, Gabriel. Why exactly are you really here?”
“I already told you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Terry’s last wishes,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“You make it sound like bullshit.”
“Is it?”
“Of course not.”
“And you didn't know who she was in the club? That all sounds suspicious to me.”
“I might be a lot of things. A liar isn’t one of them.”
She narrowed her eyes, studying me for a few seconds and I shifted my weight slightly, taking the strain off my injured leg.
“Is that all I need to know about the kitchen and orders?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. You’ll soon get the hang of it,” she said and walked passed me to the door. “Hey, Gabriel?”
“What,” I answered and looked at her over my shoulder.
“Lynette is a good person who has had a shitty life up until now. Don’t fuck it up even more, okay? She doesn’t deserve more crap to deal with.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Seven: Lynette
I gritted my teeth and went to work. The nerve of him walking into my kitchen like he owned the place. I wanted nothing more than to throw him out, but I was down two of my staff. Behind me, I could hear Cheryl showing him where everything was, which went on a little too long for my liking.
I stopped suddenly, scolding myself for feeling that way. I didn't want him to make me feel anything. I wanted him out of here. With any luck, maybe he’ll finally leave once he’s ‘helped’, whatever that meant anyway.
I chewed my lips when I realized that I wasn't exactly sure if the thought of him leaving made me happy or sad.
