With a Grain of Salt (Lindell Book 3)

Chapter 3

Walker

Seeing the look in her eyes and how quickly they go from a little annoyed to glossy like she”s about to cry makes me glad that I approached her in a more private place.

But also, there”s nothing to distract me back here in the kitchen, and I don”t do well with sobbing women at all.

”You don”t work here,” I repeat. ”Besides, you should be at home spending time with your kid, not trying to pick men up in a bar.”

If I ever have the chance to go back in time and change one thing from my past, I know I”d choose to keep my damn mouth shut instead of telling this gorgeous woman what she should be doing with her life.

The tears I thought were going to fall dry up as quickly as they showed up, and I swear the woman is getting ready for a battle I”m not prepared to fight, much less win.

She lifts her chin an inch, her shoulders squaring up with mine.

”My daughter,” she says. ”Not my kid. And for your information, I”m working, not trying to pick up men.”

She walks past me, and I make my second stupid decision of the night when I reach out and stop her in her tracks with my hand on her upper arm. I know it”s a mistake from the way she looks down at where I”m touching her and back up into my eyes, as if she”s given me an opportunity to choose differently.

I release her arm, but she doesn”t take a step back like I expect her to. She glares at me as if she”d claw my eyes out if there wouldn”t be legal repercussions to it. From the glint of rage in her eyes, it makes me think it”s not off the table yet, that she”s just weighing the pros and cons.

”Listen, you can finish this shift, but that”s it.”

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn”t argue with me.

The scent of her perfume sticks around long after she leaves the kitchen. It isn”t until the loud whoosh of the automatic dishwasher indicating it has finished its cycle startles me that I realize I”ve been standing here feeling like I”ve been put in my place by a woman I don”t even know.

I expect to find the apron she was wearing hung on the hook in the hallway, but instead, I step back behind the bar and watch her work the room like a professional.

”The way you”re glaring at her, I”d think you hate her,” Maggie says as she slides past me to get to the tap so she can pull a couple of beers.

”She doesn”t work here,” I explain.

”And yet watch her work.”

I draw in a deep breath. Maggie has a point. If anyone came in here and watched her, they”d think that Claire has been here months if not years. They”d never believe she hasn”t even completed a single shift yet. I imagine the bar owner back in El Paso hated to see the day she left, but it doesn”t change the fact that I can”t have her around.

”I”m letting her finish this shift, but she won”t be back.”

Maggie stands in front of me, staring at me until I drop my eyes down to hers.

”If you fire her, then I”m gone too.”

”I can”t fire her if she doesn”t work here,” I argue.

”I”m not going to repeat myself, Walker Conley. I can”t keep working these hectic shifts. I can barely keep my eyes open in class because they”re exhausting me so badly.” I see the reality in her eyes.

”I”m sorry. Listen, I”ll—”

”You”ll let her keep working. She”s the best you”ve hired in six months.”

”I didn”t hire her,” I repeat, but I know arguing semantics won”t matter. Maggie has put her foot down and, as unprepared as I am to lose her in under a year, I sure as hell can”t move that timetable up to tonight.

”I”m not agreeing to anything,” I tell her, but a smile spreads across her face as if she already knows what my decision is going to be.

Claire manages to stay away from me for the rest of the night, but I watch her every chance I can get. Apparently, I”m a sadist who likes putting temptation right in my path when I know I can never reach out and touch it.

Every smile she directs to someone else makes me see red, although I”d never shove a guy away from her. She wouldn”t appreciate the chivalry, and from the way she works the room, she doesn”t need it.

The woman wasn”t being exactly honest when she said she used to work in a bar. I have no doubt she ran whatever bar she worked in before.

She spins and twirls to keep from bumping into people, and when a couple of college guys get a little too rowdy, she somehow manages to get them to clean up the mess they made, all while laughing and joking with her. I have no doubt the blond guy smiling up at her from his place on the floor, as he picks up broken pieces of a beer bottle, is in his own version of heaven, simply because she”s smiling down at him the way that she is.

”Are you going to take those to the back or not?” Maggie asks.

I look down at the tray full of dirty beer glasses, feeling like I just got caught doing something wrong.

”Fuck,” I mutter, then have to apologize. ”Sorry.”

”Maybe fix that face of yours while you”re back there. I don”t need you scaring off my customers.”

I notice my scowl in the glass behind the bar before making it to the hallway leading to the kitchen.

”I can get that, bossman,” Trevor says as I approach the dishwasher.

I almost fight the man for the tray when he takes it out of my hands. I need some distance, and I know better than to think that I”m capable of going back out there and not looking in Claire”s direction.

I feel like the shittiest human in the world. Apparently, the woman needs a second job, and it”s not her fault that she”s so pretty. It”s not like I can ask her to somehow look worse. Besides, I doubt it would even be possible for her, and thinking of her with a little dirt on her face and messy hair puts my mind in places it has no damn business traveling to. All of these problems are my issues, and it”s something I need to get a better handle on. Punishing her and, in turn, losing Maggie, just can”t happen.

Knowing that I”ll just be in Maggie”s way behind the bar if I head back out there, I turn to the right, out of the kitchen, and take the narrow hallway down to the office.

I remember why I spend so little time in here when I open the door and flip on the light. The room is tiny, and there”s no vent in here for heat or air conditioning. It”s winter time now so it”s not so bad in here, but in the summer, this room is unbearable. I always count down the till and do my paperwork while standing behind the bar to avoid the misery this place brings.

When I bought the bar a little over five years ago, I never worried about the business side of it. I just wanted a place where my friends could come and chill, a place where the expectations are low and there”s no pressure to just cut loose and have a good time. But with that side of things, I also inherited the bills, inventory, hiring, and a million other things I never considered.

It took me over a year to get a routine down that works for me, and I know that Claire being in the same building will blow that all to hell.

I sit at the desk, more than a little overwhelmed with the mess in front of me, but staying in this tiny, musty room is better than being in the bar and watching her earn her tips.

I know what it takes for waitresses to make good money working at a bar, and it says a lot about the people coming in who put them in those positions. Good service isn”t enough any longer, but I make sure to pay my waitresses well. They make more than basic minimum wage, although I haven”t hired someone yet who doesn”t want to supplement their income with tips.

”I”m gonna go ahead and get out of here.”

I snap my head up to see Maggie standing in the open doorway.

”Everything is ready for your shutdown,” she says with a smile.

”Can you send Claire back here?” I ask before standing. ”No. I”ll see her out there.”

Maggie watches me as I walk toward her. ”Claire left over an hour ago. Said she”d be back on Tuesday.”

I grind my teeth as I leave the office.