Making It Right. Kathy Altman
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hurt, but don’t keep him long. He’ll have homework and chores of his own at home. I’m putting him to work right away so he can get used to the routine. He’ll be starting tonight.”
“He’ll feed Mitzi, too?”
“On Tuesdays. She only needs to be fed once a week. I’ll make sure someone’s around to help, though Dylan knows better than to handle her on his own.”
“She only eats once a week?”
Snoozy nodded. “Obesity’s a problem for pythons in captivity.”
“Interesting. Although,” Kerry said, drawing out the word, “the fatter she is, the slower she’ll move.”
“Pythons don’t chase their prey. They’re ambush hunters.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She scrambled for a change of subject. “It’s okay to let a minor in the bar?”
“As long as he’s supervised. Don’t let him wander off or we could get in trouble. If the bar’s busy, keep him with you, or ask him to come back later. I’m going in the back to make some phone calls. Any other questions?”
“Would you happen to have a sweater I could borrow? It was pretty warm in here this morning and now I’m wishing I’d worn something with a little more fabric.” Though they both knew her goose bumps had little to do with the cool air.
“Yeah, the AC’s temperamental. Kind of like my bride-to-be.” He grinned, and some of the tension in Kerry’s shoulders eased.
“Let me see what I can find in the back,” he said.
“You can borrow mine.”
Kerry swung around. A smiling blonde flanked by two other women held out a purple cardigan. She gave it a shake when Kerry hesitated.
“It’s okay,” the blonde said. “I don’t need it.”
“That’s so nice of you, Allison.” Still Kerry hesitated. “But I might spill something on it.”
“You remembered my name.” The other woman beamed. Kerry didn’t deserve her delight, though. She couldn’t help but remember, considering she’d run into Allison probably two or three times a day for the past couple of days. Allison Gallahan and her husband, Joe, owned Sleep at Joe’s, the motel where Kerry had stayed before moving into Eugenia’s apartment that afternoon.
“It’s washable.” Allison tugged at Kerry’s hand and draped the sweater over her forearm. “It has to be. I have a kid. You’ve met Parker, right?”
Kerry managed a smile for Parker Macfarland, who stood on Allison’s right. The redhead wore jeans, an emerald top and an expression free of censure.
“It’s nice to see you again,” Kerry said.
Snoozy held up Allison’s sweater so Kerry could poke her arms into the sleeves. “This third one here, she’s trouble.” He winked at the woman on the other side of Allison, the youngest of the three—and the least friendly looking.
“I’m Liz,” she said. She flicked a mass of pale blond corkscrew curls over one shoulder and thrust a hand across the bar. “Liz Watts. I used to work here.”
“Liz left us to work full-time with Parker. Place just isn’t the same. Say...” Snoozy directed the word to his feet. “Mind if Kerry gets your number? Case something comes up while I’m gone?”
“Good idea.” Liz stared, unsmiling, at Kerry. “Because you never know.”
Parker tossed a quick side-eye in Liz’s direction. “Though I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“And if you’re not, we’ll help,” Allison added firmly. “After all, Eugenia sent us to offer moral support for your inaugural shift. Didn’t she, Liz?”
Liz grunted, sounding eerily like Snoozy.
“That’s kind of you,” Kerry said. She seemed to be saying that a lot these days. She really was grateful, but she couldn’t help feeling uneasy, too. She was racking up a lot of favors.
Allison waved away her compliment. “We’re not kind, we’re curious. Plus, Liz and I are in dire need of a little baby-free time.”
Kerry nodded in faux understanding. These three had each other’s backs. What would that be like?
Stop taking advantage of people and maybe someday you’ll find out.
Snoozy rapped his knuckles on the bar. “Glad we got that that settled. I’ll let you ladies talk.”
His sound system started playing “Hotel California” and he whistled as he headed toward the kitchen, quicker than Kerry had seen him move all night.
“So what can I get you three to drink?” she asked.
“A mocktail for me.” Parker patted her baby bump. “Bet you all didn’t think I knew that word. Here’s another. I’ll have a no-jito. Get it? That’s a mojito with no alcohol.” Her bravado slipped as she eyed Kerry. “Can you do that?”
“I can definitely do that.” Though that would probably use up the last of the mint. Next round she’d have to talk Parker into something else. Kerry turned to Liz and Allison. “And for you two?”
“We’d each like to try a Blue Hawaiian,” Liz said.
“We would?”
Liz elbowed Allison without looking her way. “Have you heard of it?”
“I haven’t, but I can look it up.” Kerry retrieved her tablet from under the bar and pressed a few keys. When she located the recipe, she couldn’t help a chuckle.
“Rule number one.” Liz glared. “Don’t make fun of a customer’s drink choice.”
“I’m so sorry. I promise I wasn’t laughing at your order. Earlier I told Snoozy we were low on pineapple juice, and he looked at me like I’d grown a second head. I should have enough for two of these, though.” Kerry scrounged for the professionalism that had once made her a passable barkeep. “Did you know the Blue Hawaiian is also called the swimming pool cocktail?”
Liz’s expression cleared. “Snoozy always was surprised when we ran out of fruit juice and peach schnapps. You might want to go ahead and pick some up, and reimburse yourself from petty cash. That is...” She cocked her head. “Is he even trusting you with the petty cash?”
PARKER SUCKED IN a breath.
“What the hell?” Allison whispered harshly.
Even Liz looked startled by what she’d said.
“He is trusting me with the petty cash,” Kerry said evenly. No need to point out Snoozy was trusting her with the whole damned bar. “I don’t intend to let him down. Excuse me while I find the curaçao.”
She turned away and scanned the mirrored shelves. She knew exactly where Snoozy kept the blue curaçao, but she needed a moment to remember how to breathe. Liz’s words may have been unkind, but they weren’t unfair.
She walked away from the furious whispers behind her, rolling her shoulders in a futile attempt to shake off her distress. Gratitude was what she should be feeling. For freedom. For second chances. For this job.
She caught sight of Nerdy-Looking Dude’s reflection in the mirror as he stood and stretched. The hem of his short-sleeved shirt rose, and Kerry stilled. Holy Hannah. Absently she added manly stomach muscles to her mental gratitude journal. She barely stopped herself from turning to get an eyeful of the real thing.
That was a surprise. Sitting behind his laptop, with his black-rimmed glasses and striped button-down shirt,