by Cora Davies
"Great, I'll check on the kitchen," Eli said, walking out of the lounge.
"She's a sweetie isn't she?" Molly asked, close on his heels.
"She's nice, yes," Eli said. "Molly, we're swamped. We don't have time to talk about-"
Molly shrugged and pointed at Jack and the hostess escorting the party into the lounge.
"They have it covered. Are you going to ask her out?" Molly bounced with excitement.
"She's nice, but that doesn't change the fact that she's a mom and that means serious. I don't do serious." Eli stood toe to toe with Molly.
Molly did not get a chance to build a rebuttal because a woman in a floor length bright green dress stopped Molly in her tracks. "Molly! My dear, I have not seen you since Jeremy's mother passed away."
The woman spread her arms and pulled Molly in for a hug. Once Molly disappeared in the sea of green fabrics, Eli hurried away. He had spent most of the past two days pushing thoughts of Claire, who randomly appeared in his head at all hours of the day, far away. He had a weak moment in the stairwell when he thought, just for a moment... but during the drive home, he remembered all the reasons it was a bad idea.
Claire had kids. His mother had fallen in love with another man, and she left Eli behind with his father. They never saw her again. Eli was not naive enough to entertain Claire falling in love with him, but he would never involve himself with a woman with children. It would not just be her heart broken when he inevitably left or she pushed him aside.
Eli pushed the door open to the kitchen; the smell of steaks on the grill hit him, making his stomach growl.
"Do you guys need extra help in here?" he asked Frank, the head cook.
"Not unless you know something I don't?" Frank asked gruffly, plating a steak. He was tall, and sometimes Eli laughed at the ridiculousness of a man so tall stooping over the stainless steel countertops in the kitchen.
"Fifty people just walked in," Eli said, not thrilled to give Frank the news.
Frank dropped his spatula on the counter. "Aren't we already at capacity?"
"In the dining room; this party is using the lounge." Eli pinched his brow.
"I need to think." Frank recovered, picking up his spatula and twirling the handle through his fingers. He stared into space; the kitchen seemed to obey his need for silence. Even the steaks seemed to sizzle quieter. "I need at least one more person in here. New customers get the limited menu, but the fancy one. Lounge gets buffet style. Make them feel like they have a choice, but get them to order menu B."
Eli nodded, grabbing the stack of buffet menus from a cabinet by the door, just as Molly poked her head in the doorway. "Rachel wants to know if she should bring Claire."
Eli almost dropped the menus at the sound of Claire's name. "Why would I want Rachel to bring Claire?"
But Molly was talking to Frank, not Eli. Why would Frank want Claire to come? Did he even know her?
"Claire?" Frank looked as confused as Eli, but only for a second. "Claire Bennett! Yes, she is exactly who I need."
"Great." Molly put the phone to her ear. "Frank says yes."
"Eli," Frank said, flipping a burger a few inches into the air and it landed pink side down, "still the same on the menus, but they can choose between A and B now."
"Menu A and B, sure. But why is Claire coming in?" Eli asked. But Frank did not seem to hear him; he was already barking orders to the rest of the kitchen staff.
Eli stepped back into the dining room, making his way to the counter and back to his main post next to Jack at the bar. As he filled drinks, he his mind stayed on Claire. Why did they want her to come?
He forgot about Claire soon when drink orders started appearing in front of them on the screen. Instead, he turned his mind where it would relax. Numbers.
"You know what I think when I see all these people?" Eli said.
"They're going to tap the bar?" Jack said, and Eli thought his friend almost sounded worried.
"No man. Profits. They could have gone anywhere else, but they came here." Eli grinned. "The brewery is going to-"
"Eli Dunlan." It had been years since he last talked to him, Eli recognized the voice at once. His good mood drained away. Ben Tomlin. He looked exactly the same as the last time Eli saw him, fresh faced, every hair in place, pressed suit. Fake smile. A button clung to his lapel that said 'Tomlin for Mayor'.
Eli nodded. "Ben. Can I get you anything?"
"I'll take a top shelf whiskey," Ben said, not taking his eyes off Eli.
Eli filled the drink, setting the glass in front of Ben.
"My family's in the back room, my cousin is the bride." Ben flicked a pretzel crumb off the counter. Eli picked up the bottle, remembering the last time he saw Ben. It was at his father's funeral. If Eli hated him then, the anger had only grown in the years since. "Nice place you got here."
"I just work here." Eli glanced at the order screen and mixed a few screwdrivers. He was aware of Jack, filling pitcher after pitcher of beer, all the while half listening to their conversation.
"Not what I heard," Ben said, taking a sip. "Rumor is you bought half of this place."
"Not all rumors carry weight," Eli said, placing the drinks on a tray for the waitress to carry to the other room.
"How have you been, Eli?" Ben asked, sliding cash to Eli.
"Can't complain. You?" Eli said, crossing his arms over his chest. He ignored the bill on the counter.
"It's a blessed life." Ben thumped his finger on the button on his chest. "I'm running for mayor." Ben waited for Eli to say something, and when it was obvious he was not going to, Ben picked up his glass and took a sip. "You've cleaned up. Got your shit together I see?"
"I've always had my shit together." Eli gripped the counter, rooting him to the ground and keeping his fist out of Ben's face.
"Not from what I remember. From what I remember, that little operation your father and you had going on," Ben lowered his voice, "well, shit was rough but money was never tight, was it?"
All the words Eli wanted to say rumbled up through his chest. Jack must have sensed that Eli hit his boiling point because he was at Eli's side. "Frank needs you in the back."
Eli turned and walked away before he second-guessed himself. He pushed open the door, stepped out of the way and leaned on the wall, taking a deep breath.
He should have known he would run into Ben eventually, especially working at the brewery. Part of him pretended like that part of his life was over. Completely finished.
Demons would not stay in the past where they belonged. Ben had a bigger part in Eli's family business than Eli ever did. Hell, Eli had not learned everything until it was too late. Not that Eli had been innocent. He should have forced his dad to stop the whole thing the moment he found out what was happening.
"What's going on there, man? You look like you're about ready to kill someone," Frank said.
Eli pushed off the wall to leave, no sense in hiding out all night. Just then the door swung open and in walked Claire.
She wore tight jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and her long black hair pulled into a thick braid hanging down her back. All the stress of the evening, his anger at Ben, everything he had felt just seconds earlier, fell away.
"Frank, can I help out tonight?" she asked. She spoke louder than she had at school. Her voice was strong and confident, and heard over the clatter of the kitchen.
"I've never been as happy to see a Bennett as I am right now," Frank said, tossing Claire an apron. "Hairnets are in the back. Eli, have you met Claire?"
Claire was in the middle of tying the strings of the apron at her waist and stopped, facing Eli. Her face was stony, still. She did not seem irritated at him anymore, nor did she look dumbstruck like Eli.
"Claire," Eli said, after a second of thinking he would just stare at her without speaking until she walked away.
"Hi, Eli. Didn't think I'd see you again this soon," Claire said, a smile cracking on her face.
"Have you ever worked in a
kitchen?" Eli asked.
"Claire was a short-order cook in the Air Force, and exactly the speed I need tonight in the kitchen." Frank pointed again towards the back where the hand-washing station was.
"No shit?" Eli said, surprised for the millionth time that evening. "The Air Force."
"Air Force, yes. Short-order cook?" Claire shrugged. "Amongst a million other things."
A military woman. I am so screwed.
CHAPTER SIX
The night flew by faster than Claire expected. Frank was loud, funny and organized. He was exactly the type of person she liked working under. The evening went by smoother than one would imagine it would with the brewery at capacity and a new person in the kitchen.
When Rachel asked Claire if she wanted to go into the brewery and pick up some extra cash, Claire felt that bundle of nerves battling in her body. What if she did everything wrong? Then she remembered Frank.
Disheveled, and a little drunk, Frank was not having a good day when she met him a few years ago at the Veterans Affairs office. The last time she saw him, he seemed better, still not great. He stopped by for donuts one early morning at the grocery store, and told her he applied for a job at the brewery.
"Not sure if I'll get it," he said, picking the icing off of a glazed maple donut. "In fact, I'm sure I won't."
"Why?" Claire wrote the words 'Happy Birthday' in purple icing on a cake.
"You know Molly, right?" Frank asked.
Claire nodded. "She's my sister's best friend."
"You know about Jeremy? Molly's ex?" Frank asked. Claire nodded again. "That's my brother."
Claire growled. "That's not good. So why apply?"
"I need the job," Frank said, kicking the ground. "I'm thirty-two, unemployed, seeing a shrink and living with my dad. Imagine what that feels like."
She smiled now, seeing Frank working in the kitchen. A healthy glow returned to his face. The shell was gone, replaced with a vibrant and funny man.
"If I knew it was this much fun to cook with other people, I'd work in a kitchen instead of a bakery." Claire tossed a pair of what promised to be the final burgers of the night onto the grill, before giving a quick stir to a pile of sliced steaming peppers.
"Didn't you cook with other Airmen when you were in?" Frank asked.
"Not really. I mean, sometimes. I cooked alone out in a kitchen when I was stationed in North Dakota." She shuddered, remembering bitter winters.
"What the hell is in North Dakota?" Frank asked.
"A whole lot of nothing. And missiles." She glanced up at the door as it opened. A waitress. She hoped to set eyes on Eli again, but he never came in the kitchen. Look but do not touch. The door swung open again. Molly appeared this time, beaming.
"We did it!" Molly shouted, stepping into the room.
Jack and Eli stood in the hallway behind her, in hushed conversation. Eli's shoulders stiff, face animated, hands knotted together. He glanced into the kitchen and found Claire's face. His anger focused on her. Was he mad at her? But his gaze softened, the hard lines on his face seeming to melt. The door closed.
In an exaggerated fashion, Frank turned from Claire to the door, and he chucked Claire in the shoulder, tipping her forward. "What's going on?"
She flushed. "What?"
"Eli," Frank said.
"Nothing's going on." Claire's cheeks flushed red. "We met at school."
"Eli Dunlan does not look at women the way he looked at you," Molly said. "He totally freaked when I told him you were coming."
"I have a difficult time imagining Eli totally freaking."
Molly cleared her throat. "For Eli, he totally freaked. He stopped in the middle of a sentence and raised his eyebrow. I almost got the smelling salts."
Claire laughed as she scraped the grim and grease off of the large grill with a spatula. "Can you tell Rachel I'll drive her home when I'm done cleaning the grill?"
"Are you kidding? We're having our own party after that mess! Drinks and dinner on the porch as soon as the last table's empty," Molly said. She raised her voice addressing everyone in the kitchen. "Don't worry about cleaning it too much, Eli and Jack are just going to come dirty it all up again making dinner!"
Claire wanted to protest. She should go home, do homework and take a long hot shower. Tomorrow was Sunday, and her only free day. No kids, no classes, no work. She had big plans for homework, cleaning and possibly dragging the pile of cabinets from the kitchen to the yard to burn. But as the joy and camaraderie of the others in the kitchen filled the air, becoming contagious.
On the porch with her new kitchen friends, a glass of beer, the stars. It sounded nice. She might even watch Eli from the corner of her eye. There was nothing wrong with looking. As long as Eli did not come too close because Claire smelled like cheeseburgers.
"I'm going to the bathroom, okay, Frank?" she asked, and when he nodded, she slid out into the hall.
The hallway emptied as she made her way towards the bathroom to splash water on her face and redo her braid. Claire walked around the corner and walked smack into something hard. Eli.
"I'm sorry," she said, instinctively backing up a few feet and looking at the floor. Claire was more of a klutz than she wanted to admit. Now, she was a stinky klutz. "I was just-"
He touched her chin, raising her face. "Hey, I wanted to thank you for coming in tonight. We would've been screwed if you weren't here."
She imagined his skin rough and calloused, but his fingertips were smooth. His fingers fell from her face.
Claire shrugged, growing lost in his gray eyes. Who gave him the right to have eyes like that, anyway? It should be outlawed. "I should thank you, I need the extra cash and Frank is hilarious."
"Yeah, he's a cool guy. You guys know each other, huh?"
"We've met a few times."
Eli inhaled deeply. "You're making me hungry."
"Excuse me?" Claire asked.
Eli laughed. He leaned against the wall, bending one leg and resting his foot on the wall. "You smell like cheeseburgers."
"Oh, you mean literally not..." Claire bit her tongue. "I need a shower; I reek."
"I love cheeseburgers," Eli said, untucking his shirt and revealing just an inch of skin. Enough to allow Claire to see the sculpture that had taken up residence on his stomach. "I have not eaten in hours, my stomach's gonna cave in, I swear."
Claire forced a laugh.
"Are you staying for drinks?" he asked. Mouth frozen, Claire nodded. "Good, I'm making everyone dinner. I'll see you outside."
Eli pushed off the wall and stepped around her. He walked away, without so much as a glance back. Did he realize the effect his attention had on her? Or, did he always act like that?
Almost a half an hour later, Claire sat outside under the patio heater, her boots off and her feet tucked between her bottom and the chase lounge. Not enough patio furniture for all the employees, but somehow Claire managed to get a chair all to herself. Rachel sat on a white wicker loveseat next to her, chatting with Molly. Claire's mind drifted.
Stars shimmered throughout the sky, reminding her of the day Ella spilled an entire container of glitter in the driveway. The driveway twinkled for months.
The memory brought a smile to her lips, and she took a sip of the beer deposited in her hand by Rachel a few moments earlier.
"What's with the smile?" Rachel asked.
"I know! I know!" Molly said, shooting her hand in the air. "It's Eli, isn't it?"
"What? Um, no. I was thinking about my kids," Claire said.
"Yeah, I already told her no about Eli. I set her up with a hot lawyer," Rachel said.
"What do you mean 'no' about Eli? There was an about Eli?" Molly asked, scooting to the edge of her chair to see Rachel and Claire better.
"No, there was not an about Eli." Claire groaned.
"Damn, I've been trying to get Rachel to help set you two up for ages," Molly said, glaring at Rachel.
What? Claire stared at her sister in shock.
"No way, he's not her type," Rachel said, shaking her head. Her blond hair pulled back into a high and tight ponytail, and when she shook her head she looked like I Dream of Jeannie.
Yeah. Tall, muscles for days, tattoos, dark hair and eyes. Whose type is that?
"That's too bad." Molly leaned back. "He's a great guy. And a really good kisser from what I remember."
"What?" Claire asked. Molly laughed.
"We dated, like six years ago, but only for a few months." Molly sipped from her water bottle.
"I forgot about that!" Rachel said, smacking Molly's leg. "I told her, he's eye candy, but anything else is just asking for trouble."
"Are you serious?" Molly said, choking on her water. "What makes you say that? Eli's a good catch."
Rachel looked around and lowered her voice. "I mean, about the drugs, and the fighting."
"Come on, Rachel. All guys fight when they're young and dumb," Molly said. "And don't listen to anyone about that drug stuff. All lies."
Rachel snorted. "Anyway, I set Claire up with a great guy who's running for mayor. Can you imagine? Claire in the mayor's mansion?"
"The mayor doesn't have a mansion, you're thinking of the Governor's mansion," Claire said, playing with the hem of her jeans. "I agreed to go on one date with him, not move into his house. Slow down, Rachel."
"I wish you'd think about Eli," Molly said, pouting. "You guys are perfect for each other."
Eli stepped out of the dining room carrying a tray of red baskets filled with burgers and fries. He set them down at the large table. Claire's stomach growled. Which was more enticing? The food or the man?
Eli placed his hands around his mouth, projecting his voice. "Dinner's up!"
Jack stood by Eli. "Thank you all for your hard work tonight. We may have gotten the word out about the excellent service and food here at the Bluffs. You guys did that."
Jack spoke for another minute and Eli passed out baskets of food. He scanned everyone's faces, seeming to look for someone, and Claire wondered if it was the cute waitress who had taken off just a few minutes before. She had looked like a little blond bombshell. A bit like Bridget. Eli's type.
