Everyone stared at Baxter. Sonya was wide-eyed while the two paramedics shot glances at each other that clearly said Baxter was just about the world’s biggest ass. Officer Williams was the only one who said something.
“Look, I don’t think anyone needs you pointing fingers or placing blame. This was an unfortunate incident.”
“Which might have been prevented if the police would get off their asses and protect the remaining citizens of this building from potentially being murdered!” Baxter shouted.
“I was patrolling the area,” Officer Williams retorted.
“Yeah,” Baxter said, “lot of good that did.”
Pulling back from Sean, I stood and stomped over to Mr. High and Mighty, anger rising with every step. “Would you please just shut up?” I barked. “Nobody in this entire building cares what you think about anything, let alone the people in this hall. It is none of your business whether I go out, or who I go out with. And if I want to bring a guy up to my apartment, I will! I don’t know why you even ran out here to help me. I’d think you’d be more than happy to get rid of me!”
For the first time since I’d met him, Baxter didn’t have a response.
Spinning away from him, I stomped my way back to Sean and plopped down next to him. Seething, I didn’t say a word as the paramedics went back to work. Their movements were the only sounds in the hall, the only sounds in the building, practically. Sean watched me warily as he took my hand and squeezed it tightly. It took me a few seconds before my shoulders relaxed and I took a deep breath. I was still spitting mad, but I didn’t care to think about Baxter anymore and put my full focus into Sean.
Once the paramedics finished going through the concussion protocol, they helped Sean up to sitting. “You’re not showing signs of a concussion, but we still recommend you stay awake for a few hours. You’re going to have a pretty bad headache, but if it gets worse, or you experience any nausea or vomiting, go to the emergency room immediately. It would really be best if you’d let us take you now, just as a precaution.”
Sean started to shake his head, then winced. “I just want to go home. I’m fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve taken a hit.”
Tucking that bit of information away for later, I scrambled to follow when Sean moved to stand. I helped him up, but panicked at the idea of him leaving. “I really don’t think you should ride your motorcycle after getting hit like that. Maybe you should stay here.”
Sean scoffed. “No offense, but I think I’ll be safer at my place.” His eyes narrowed and his gaze flicked behind me to where I was sure Baxter was probably standing. “In fact, I think you’d be safer at my place, too.”
“She is not—” Baxter’s words cut off with a grunt that sounded like it might have been induced by an elbow to the gut—courtesy of Sonya.
Sean’s offer was tempting, and not because I was looking to hookup. Being in this place was really starting to freak me out, but I could almost feel Sonya’s anxiety behind me. “I think I better stay here with Sonya, but I do want to make sure you get home all right.”
“I can drive him home,” Officer Williams offered. “My shift ended half an hour ago, anyway.”
Considering the offer and my reluctance to go with him, Sean frowned. “Fine, sure. I’ll pick up my bike in the morning, okay? Maybe we can grab breakfast.”
“That would be nice,” I said.
I felt guilty not going with him. It irked me to admit Baxter was right that I barely knew Sean. That was as much a part of why I refused his offer as not wanting to leave Sonya here, scared and worried. As freaked out as I was, if I was going to cozy up with anyone tonight, Sonya came in at the top of my list. We were both scared, and I didn’t have to worry about being chewed out by her or ending up in a situation I wasn’t ready for. Somehow I doubted Sean had a guest room for me to stay in.
Walking with Sean down to the front door, I gave him a hug before handing him over to Officer Williams. “I’ve already called in for someone to sit on the building for the rest of the night,” Officer Williams said. “I doubt anyone will come back tonight, but I don’t want to risk it.”
Now he didn’t want to risk it. “Thanks,” I said, holding off with an I told you so.
After he took all our statements, they disappeared into the patrol car and I wrapped my arms around myself tightly as worry set in. The paramedics shuffled out with all their gear soon after, the older of the two stopping next to me by the front door. “You gonna be okay with him?” he asked, tipping his head in the direction of Baxter’s hulking form watching from the second floor landing.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, “but thanks for asking.”
He looked unconvinced, but left me to deal with Baxter on my own. I shut the door behind them and flicked the deadbolt closed. It wasn’t required to be locked until after ten at night, but I didn’t think anyone would complain if I locked up a few minutes early. Sonya, who’d been waiting at the base of the stairs, linked her arm with mine when I reached her and we trudged back up to the second floor together.
Baxter met us at the landing, arms crossed with a determined look on his face. I was so not in the mood for him. Holding up a hand, I gave him a sharp wave of goodbye. “Thanks for the help. Feel free to keep the lectures to yourself next time. I’m going to bed now.” Turning to my friend, I asked, “Want to have a sleepover?”
Relief flooded Sonya’s expression. “Girls’ night sounds perfect.”
Honestly, I was as relieved as she was. I didn’t want to go back to my apartment alone. I tried to step around Baxter, but he moved with me. “What?” I snapped.
“You two are not spending the night alone. Are you insane?”
Gesturing between myself and Sonya, I said, “We’re not alone.” I held back on any name calling, but only because I did not want to get into another fight with him. I was exhausted.
Baxter rolled his eyes. “Two girls alone all night while someone keeps breaking into the building and nearly killed your boyfriend? Does that really sound smart?”
“For one,” I said, “we are not girls. Quit treating me like a twelve-year-old. Two, Sean is not my boyfriend, so get off your high horse about that, too. Besides, what else do you expect me to do? Call Officer Williams and ask him to stand outside my apartment door all night? No thank you.”
I tried to push past him again, but he refused to let me by. “You have two options. Either the both of you stay at my place, or I stay at yours.”
“What?” I laughed. “Not going to happen, Baxter. I’d rather take my chances with the intruder, thank you very much.”
Shoving him hard, I dragged Sonya around him and down the hall to my door. I was jamming my key in the lock when I felt him step up behind me. “Go away,” I said through my teeth.
I had just gotten the door unlocked and was planning to slip through and slam it in Baxter’s face when he said, “You saw his face.”
Freezing, his words slid across my skin like a blanket of frost.
Baxter closed the distance, a brick wall behind me. “Whatever’s going on here, it’s serious, Eliza. These people aren’t afraid to kill. You saw his face and that makes you a target.”
“You saw him, too,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to argue or just point out that he was in danger as well.
“From a distance,” Baxter said. “You were barely a few feet away from him. Officer Williams may be too idiotic to reason out the full implications of what happened tonight, but I’m not, and neither are you.”
I swallowed hard, knowing he was right, but unable to keep from being irritated by that merely on principle. “Fine,” I whispered.
“Go inside, lock the door. I’ll change and be back in a few minutes.” He started to pull back, then leaned down so his mouth was right next to my ear. “Oh, and Bernadette gave me a key, so don’t be stupid and try to keep me out.”
Resenting the implication that locking him out of my apartment would be stupid, I spun around with a
snotty response on my lips. I forgot what it was when I met his gaze and saw the heat in his eyes. I couldn’t even begin to figure out whether it came from anger, fear, or…something else entirely, but the intensity stripped my mind bare and all I could do was stare at him.
I didn’t object when he gripped my shoulder and pushed me into the apartment. He closed the door and I locked it without thinking. Lack of oxygen finally overpowered my stupor and I sucked in a shaky breath, still staring at the door. I turned around, trying to figure out what was wrong with me.
“Did you finally boot Baxter back to his apartment?” Sonya asked from where she was sitting on the couch. I hadn’t even realized she’d slipped in ahead of me.
I shook my head, making her frown. “He’s coming back.” I glanced at the couch. My lips pursed as I considered my options. All I had as far as sleeping arrangements went were a couch and a bed. I knew which one Baxter was not going to be invited to use. Glancing back at Sonya, I asked, “Mind bunking with me? Baxter can have the couch.”
“Uh, sure, no problem,” Sonya said. Even though I hadn’t known Sonya for long, she had become like a surrogate sister practically from the moment we met. I had no problem with her staying over. Baxter was a different story, but I wasn’t sure I even knew why anymore.
I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when a knock sounded on the door. Sonya was already in bed, so I spit and dropped my toothbrush on the counter. It took me longer than it should have to reach the door. “Baxter?” I asked.
Instead of some smartass response, like who else would it be, all he said was, “It’s me, Eliza. You can let me in.”
I hesitated for just a moment, then flipped the deadbolt and opened the door. I felt myself sinking even further into confusion when I saw him standing there in loose sweat pants and a white t-shirt. He looked tired and frustrated, and as usual, a little bit annoyed. Despite all of that, he was waiting for me to let him in.
Pulling the door open, I waited for him to pass through before closing and relocking it. He was already standing next to the couch when I turned around. My gaze bouncing between him and the couch, I frowned. “I don’t think you’re going to fit.”
Baxter half laughed, half scoffed. “I’ll be fine. Go to bed, Eliza.”
I was more than happy to comply. For some reason, I found myself slowing as I approached the couch. Baxter looked up when I didn’t pass by, expectant and on edge for another argument.
“He was just walking me to my door,” I said without thinking. “I had no intention of inviting him in or sleeping with him tonight.”
It was none of Baxter’s business who I slept with, and there was absolutely no reason I should have been explaining myself to him, but I found myself standing there, waiting for his response.
“And what were his intentions?” Baxter asked with a sigh. He lay down on the couch and pulled the blanket I had left there over his body. His eyes closed, blocking me out of his sight, and likely out of his mind. Baxter exhaled slowly and settled into the couch while I stood there like an idiot.
“Go to bed, Eliza,” he mumbled. “I won’t let anything happen.”
His words melted the tension from my body, confusing me even more, but taking away my fears.
8: A Shrieking, Angry Princess
Hustling down the street, I burst into the diner with only a few minutes to spare. I didn’t want to be late for my first day at Saul’s. Of course that meant class ran long. Composing myself while still breathing hard from my sprint from the school, I slipped through the moderately busy diner to the kitchen where I hoped Saul was waiting and Danielle was nowhere to be found.
“Are you ready for this?” Saul asked cheerfully. The way I was standing there with my backpack in one hand and a startled expression on my face must have been answer enough. He laughed. “You can put your backpack in the room over there, then we’ll get started.”
Taking a deep breath, I moved in the direction he’d pointed. The room was barely more than a closet. Papers and extra supplies were piled on top of shelving units. On the shelves were a purse, a few pairs of shoes, cell phones, and various other employee paraphernalia. I had to squash my backpack to make it fit, but it worked well enough. Tightening my bun and tucking in stray pieces, I made my way back to Saul.
Without looking at me, he pointed to a row of hooks. “Grab an apron, wash your hands, and come join me.”
The aprons looked like they were meant to fit Saul, who was taller and wider than me. Shrugging, I pulled one down and wrapped it around my body, looping the ties around my waist twice to make them manageable. The hem hung several inches below my knees. I felt as if I were twelve, but excitement to get started pushed me over to Saul.
“Now, the main dinner rush usually doesn’t start for another hour, but that’s not a lot of time to show you everything, so pay attention and if you forget something, just ask,” Saul said. I nodded and he jumped right in.
“On the grill, I try to keep things separated. Burgers over here, chicken breasts in the middle, things like bacon, chile, onions, that sort of thing are on the side so the flavors don’t get on someone’s burger who doesn’t want them.” He gestured at each section and what they already held. “The fryers are divided, too. French fries only in the first two, anything else in the others. Timers are on the front of each unit. Double check times before you walk away. Burnt onion rings will stink up the kitchen for a week.”
I took everything in, not interrupting to ask how I was supposed to know the cooking times for different foods that needed fried. By the time the thought occurred to me, he was already going over the condiments they offered and the vegetable prep area. I felt lost without my notebook. In class I was expected to take notes and refer back to them when needed. I couldn’t exactly do that in the middle of the dinner rush. Cataloging everything I could, I followed Saul around the kitchen until we ended up back by the grill.
“So, you’re ready to go, right? I can head home to my wife?”
I know my eyes doubled in size, not just because I nearly died of panic, but because Saul broke out in a loud burst of laughter. Continuing to chuckle, he shook his head. “Go on,” he said, “I need three plates prepped for these burgers.”
Reining in my nerves, I took a deep breath. Prep plates. I could do that. Maneuvering around the kitchen, I grabbed three of the standard ceramic plates you found in most casual diners and set them on the prep counter. I marveled at how Saul seemed to know exactly where I was and what step I was on without looking at me. He called out what condiments and toppings each plate needed, pausing only when a timer went off on the fryer and he sent me over to take it out of the oil.
“Bring me those plates,” Saul said, then watched from the corner of his eye as I loaded one into the crook of my elbow and held the other two. He nodded, offering a quick smile that I was coordinated enough to manage all three. He had me hold them while he topped each one with a patty and the requested toppings of bacon, caramelized onions, and on the last one, an onion ring from the batch I had just taken out of the oil.
“Now, they go up on the window and you hit the bell,” Saul explained. “Try not to put up the plates until the whole order is finished, unless something’s holding up one of the dishes. During a rush, it gets confusing if partial orders are being served and someone’s meal ends up getting missed.”
I nodded.
Reaching up, Saul pulled a ticket from where several were hanging from a metal carousel. “Once the full order is up, pull the ticket and set it with the plates so it gets sent back to the table. Customers pay the cashier, not the waitresses.”
I nodded again, feeling like my head might fall off by the end of the night.
“Great, now it’s your turn,” Saul said with a grin.
“What?”
He gestured at the grill. “I’ve got the next two orders started. Linnea’s on her way with a new ticket. That one’s yours. Ready?”
No, but I said, “Sure. Yeah, I’m rea
dy.”
Saul grinned at me. I was sure he knew I was lying, but he took it in stride. I felt anything but ready. The bakery I worked at before coming to Manhattan wasn’t your typical food service experience. I got up at four in the morning, alone, had a huge industrial kitchen to myself for three hours, then disappeared before the main kitchen staff showed up to prep for breakfast. There was no rush, no tickets to keep track of, no patrons to worry about. In other words, it was the exact opposite of what I was telling Saul I could do.
A tall, sturdy brunette glided up to the window and smiled. “Hey, I’m Linnea. You must be the new fry cook. Eliza, right?”
“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Linnea said. She slid the ticket into one of the clips and spun it around to me. “Good luck tonight. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” I said, doubting I would get the same offer from Danielle. Luckily, she was concentrated on the two older gentleman sitting at the counter.
Grabbing for the ticket, I looked it over and sighed in relief. One burger, classic, and one grilled chicken sandwich with honey mustard dressing. Both with fries. Nothing fancy. I could do this. While I grabbed the meats from the fridge, Saul slipped back into place at the grill and served up the next round of burgers he’d started. He walked me through cooking times for the patty and chicken, and explained how to work the plate prep in between needing to flip patties or attend to the fryers. I managed to serve up my two sandwiches and hit the bell without any major slipups.
“See, not that bad,” Saul said. He glanced out the window to the dining area and surveyed the guests. Nodding, he looked back at me and said, “It’s pretty dead out there, so I’m going to slip out for a minute and grab a bite to eat in the back. If you need anything, just yell.”
Panic slithered into my gut, but I nodded as calmly as I could manage. It was just after six o’clock. From what Sean had said, the evening rush would start any time now. It was a Monday, so it would be less busy than when it got toward the weekend, but more than one order at a time seemed overwhelming at the moment. Apparently, Saul thought I could handle it, because he took the last burger he’d pulled off the grill and headed for the cramped breakroom. I stood at the grill, not sure what to do.
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