High Noon. Debra Webb
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turned around and came face-to-face with the boss.
“Is he gone?”
“For now.” Joel glanced over his shoulder. “He’ll be back eventually for his ride.” He passed the keys to her.
“I wish that was the only reason for him to come back.” She stared across the parking lot, probably hoping the bastard would fade into the darkness never to be seen again.
“You okay?” The question wasn’t necessary. He could see that she was far from okay, but she had no way of knowing he understood far too keenly the unappealing facts of her financial and personal situations.
She shrugged, threw the bar towel over her shoulder. “I’d be a lot better if my security hadn’t bailed on me. That really blows.”
Joel made a show of considering the idea for a moment. “Maybe it is my lucky night.”
Her eyebrows shot up in skepticism. “Look, mister, your pickup lines will have to get a lot better than what I’ve heard so far for you to get lucky.” She looked him up and down. “Packaging isn’t everything.”
Joel laughed. “I wasn’t referring to that kind of luck, ma’am.”
Her cheeks flushed. She hitched a thumb toward the swinging doors. “I have to get back in there. Without someone keeping an eye on the crowd, anything could happen.”
She had no idea. The Kingston men were just the beginning of her troubles. As frustrating as things were for her at the moment, he hated to eventually be the one to let her know that it was going to get a lot worse before it got better.
He gave her a nod. “If you decide to hire a new bouncer, let me know. I’m in the market for a new job.”
Joel tipped his hat to her and stepped down from the walkway. He’d taken another two strides when she called out to him.
“How can I get in touch with you?”
He turned to face her, backed up another step. “I’m right here.” He shrugged. “I’ll probably be back tomorrow night.”
“You’d have to fill out an application.”
He paused.
For a lady who wanted to play it tough, she looked damned vulnerable at the moment. But then he knew why. Couldn’t blame her for feeling that and more.
“I’d need references,” she tacked on.
“I can handle that.”
She hitched her head toward the door then disappeared inside. Joel followed, enjoying the view. Wasn’t often that the backside was every bit as gorgeous as the front, but this lady was definitely all-around gorgeous.
His job was to protect all of her and he finally had his in. Being employed at the High Noon would make his work a whole lot easier.
She skirted the end of the bar and poured that bourbon he’d had to walk away from. When she set the drink on the counter, she grabbed a pen and a napkin and placed them in front of him.
He glanced from the napkin and pen to her.
“The application. Just jot down the usual stuff. Name, address, phone number and references. I need their numbers, too. Use both sides if necessary.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Joel scrawled the requested info on the napkin. He flipped it over and provided a couple of names with numbers he retrieved from his cell. When he’d added the final digit, he passed it to her.
“Anything else?”
She studied the information. “When can you start?”
He grinned. “I thought I already had.”
She tried to look serious but one of those breath-stealing smiles peeked past her cautionary business persona. “All right. The pay is a percentage of the night’s take. It’s nothing to brag about some nights, but others make up for it.”
“Works for me.”
“I will call your references,” she reminded him.
“Then you’ll really be impressed.”
She held his gaze a moment. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Two
Monday, May 27th, 1:00 a.m.
Laney perched on the edge of her son’s bed and watched him sleep all snuggled up with his bear. He’d had that ragged old thing since he was born. It was the first toy she’d bought her child. She’d walked into the gift shop and immediately been drawn to the cute brown bear with its red bow tie. Made her feel safe and it seemed to do the same thing for Buddy. As silly as that sounded.
Regret settled heavily onto her shoulders. These late nights were hard on him. She had hoped to have a good solid staff on board before school started in late August so she could get her boy home at a decent hour, but with Dekker’s abrupt departure that was looking less and less likely.
Last week it had been two waitresses.
What was she going to do?
Getting home after midnight on Sunday night—a school night come this fall—was not going to work. She had to get a good team in place soon.
Terry was running off all her best help. The police would do nothing for fear of a backlash from his father. How did you fight that kind of trouble?
After all these years, why in hell did he have to hunt her down now? She hadn’t seen the bastard but twice in five years. Both times he’d been looking for a place to crash when things got too hot for him in Houston. Which generally meant his father had gotten fed up and decided to actually act like a father. Too little too late, unfortunately for both Terry and her.
She’d let him fool her the first time, but not the second. He’d been furious when she wouldn’t let him into the little apartment she’d had at the time or into her bed. The Kingston men weren’t used to hearing no for an answer.
They weren’t kids anymore. The time for playing games was over. She had a home and a business, as well as a son about to start school. She had responsibilities that needed her full attention and her best efforts. Terry needed to grow up.
Laney might have gotten a rough start with her life, but she was a quick learner. She was a bit of a sap but she was no dummy. The idea of allowing her mistakes to damage her son’s future hurt too much to even think about.
She tucked the covers around her baby, gave him a kiss and checked the window by his bed. Locked, shade drawn. Relieved the day was mostly done, she made her way to the kitchen. There hadn’t been time for even a five-minute break tonight, which was a good thing for her bank account. Now, however, her stomach was demanding attention.
As she took sandwich fixings from the fridge and deposited them on the worn wooden counter of her makeshift island, she considered that tomorrow she had to hire at least one of the new waitresses she needed. And she’d have to check the references on her new security guy.
Her fingers slowed in their work. Joel Hayden had been hanging around most of the week. One of the waitresses had told her he’d recently gotten laid off from his work as a bodyguard at some swanky security company that had closed its doors. Jobs were tough to come by these days and he’d opted to take a break from Houston’s big-city noise and mayhem. Beaumont, he insisted to the waitress who was clearly enamored with him, fit the bill.
Part of her couldn’t help thinking that it was not a coincidence that he hailed from Houston. Terry and his family were Houstonians. But, after the way Hayden had rousted her ex out of the saloon, she figured that wasn’t very likely. Unless the whole scene had been staged.
Damn. She hadn’t thought of that until now. Great. Something else to worry about. Maybe she’d do some checking beyond his references. Google him or something.
After