Chapter Two
Joe sat in a booth across from the bar with a cup of coffee and his laptop, watching his new employee. She sat on a bar stool with her back to him, head bent as she filled out an application and a tax form. Though he wouldn’t normally hire a total stranger, especially one just passing through, P.J. seemed to have taken quite a shine to her, and Joe trusted his judgment.
She was dressed in the same clothes as the night before, which he took to mean that she didn’t have anything else, and her long, pale blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail that hung halfway down her back and swished when she walked. She was a spunky, high-spirited young woman who had spent most of her life clinging to the short end of a very rickety stick—according to her former employer, that is. He claimed that Reily, who was orphaned as a youngster and raised by an aunt, had been best friends with his daughter since preschool and like a surrogate daughter to him and his wife.
Information Joe really didn’t need to know. He didn’t care where she came from or how she was raised, as long as she was a hard worker. He wasn’t normally in the business of saving people. Not anymore. He’d learned the hard way how futile a venture that could be. It just so happened that she needed a job and he needed a bartender. Simple as that. If she hadn’t come along last night, he would have posted a help-wanted sign in the window this morning. It was nothing more than a case of her being in the right place at the right time.
“So who’s the girl at the bar?”
He looked up to find Jill, one of his waitresses, standing beside the table. Considering she was usually at least ten minutes late for her shift, he was surprised to see that she’d showed up early.
“Her name is Reily. I hired her last night. She’ll be taking over Mark’s shift until he’s back to work.”
Without invitation she slid into the booth. “She doesn’t look familiar.”
“She’s not from around here,” he said, and he left it at that. If Reily wanted the other employees to know her life story, she could tell them herself.
“If you were looking for someone, you should have called Ed. He’s been out of work since he lost his job at the Dairy Bar.”
If her latest loser boyfriend couldn’t handle a job scooping chocolate chip mint, he’d never make it in the fast-paced world of bartending. Besides, from what Joe had heard, Ed had lost his job because he was dipping into the register as well as the ice cream. And since it was his bar, and he could hire whoever he pleased, he didn’t feel he owed Jill or anyone else an explanation. So he didn’t give her one. Instead he turned his attention to the spreadsheet on his screen.
“So, I was thinking of taking Hunter to the lake Sunday, and I thought you and Lily Ann might like to come with us. The kids never get to play together.”
That’s because Lily Ann was afraid of Jill’s six-year-old son. After the one and only playdate she did have with him, she’d come home covered in scrapes and bruises from his overly rough play.
“I have things to do around the house,” he told her.
She reached across the table and put her hand over his, giving it a firm squeeze, which quite frankly creeped him out a little. She had a reputation for latching on to any single man willing to tolerate her child. She wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t exactly pretty either, and she had an air of desperation, a neediness that clung to her much like the odor of the cigarettes that she chain-smoked during her break. And though she was a decent waitress, their relationship had never progressed past the bar doors. And never would. Not that she hadn’t tried. He didn’t doubt that if he asked her out, she would dump loser Ed in seconds flat.
“I know you’ve had it rough, Joe, but you have to stop sheltering Lily Ann. And you need to get on with your life. That witch you married just isn’t worth it.”
Teeth gritted, Joe pulled his hand from Jill’s clammy grip. That “witch” just happened to be the love of his life. His personal life—and how he chose to raise his daughter—was none of Jill’s damned business.
His eyes must have said it all because Jill blinked and jerked her hand back across the table.
“Well, I better get ready,” she said with forced cheer, sliding out of the booth. “Let me know if you change your mind about Sunday.”
He wouldn’t.
At ten-fifteen on the nose, Lindy walked in from the back. She stepped behind the bar, poured herself a cup of coffee and spoke briefly to Reily. He couldn’t hear what was said over the low croon of Randy Travis on the jukebox, but whatever it was evoked a bright smile from Reily. Lindy crossed the bar and slid into the seat across from him.
“Morning, boss. I see your new employee showed up on time.”
Her observation surprised him, since she was a diehard optimist. “Did you think she wouldn’t?”
“No, but I think that you thought she wouldn’t.”
He couldn’t deny that until she’d walked through the door he hadn’t been 100 percent sure Reily would show. In a way he almost wished she hadn’t. His life was already complicated enough without adding a needy stranger to the mix.
Lindy grabbed a packet of sugar from the dispenser on the table, tore it open and dumped it in her coffee. “It was a nice thing you did for her.”
He winced. “I didn’t do it to be nice. You’re the one who’s been nagging me to hire someone.”
“I saw the new schedule in back. You gave her forty hours.”
He shrugged. “She’s covering Mark’s shift.”
“Joe, you never start a new employee out at forty hours.”
“Her references were good.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Why can’t you just admit that you did it to be nice?”
“Because I’m not that nice.”
“Then you’re really not going to like my next suggestion.”
“If I’m not going to like it, why bother telling me?”
She shot him an exasperated look. “She stayed at the Sunrise last night.”
He shrugged. “Makes sense. It’s close by and it’s cheap.”
“Well, she can’t stay there indefinitely. Not for six weeks.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, it’s a supreme waste of money, and second, those rooms don’t even have a microwave. What she doesn’t spend on the room, she’ll waste buying meals here or at the diner.”
“Why do you care how she spends her money?”
“Because she seems like a nice person and she’s in a tough spot.”
To hear her old boss tell it, her life had been nothing but one long string of bad luck. Her current situation was no major departure from the norm. “I gave her a job. Isn’t that enough?”
“I was thinking, you have that apartment above your garage—”
“Absolutely not.” Giving her a job was one thing, but offering her a place to live was out of the question.
“Why not? It’s been sitting there empty since—” Lindy caught herself before she actually said the words. She may have been one of his best friends, but there were certain topics of conversation that were off-limits even for her, and that was one of them. “Well, it’s been a long time, and Reily could really use a decent place to stay.”
“If you’re so worried about her, ask her to stay with you.”
“In my tiny one-bedroom? Besides, it’s not as if I’m