One Of A Kind. Diana PalmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
can even come and eat there, and I’ll serve you. You won’t have to tip me, either!”
“Janie,” he groaned. “I wanted you to go back and finish your degree.”
She leaned forward. “Dad, let’s be honest. You can’t afford college right now, and if I went, it would have to be on work-study. Let me do this,” she implored. “I’m young and strong and I don’t mind working. You’ll pull out of this, Dad, I know you will!” she added gently. “Everybody has bad times. This is ours.”
He scowled. “It hurts my pride…”
She knelt at his feet and leaned her arms over his thin, bony knees. “You’re my dad,” she said. “I love you. Your problems are my problems. You’ll come up with an angle that will get us out of this. I don’t have a single doubt.”
Those beautiful eyes that were so like his late wife’s weakened his resolve. He smiled and touched her hair gently. “You’re like your mother.”
“Thanks!”
He chuckled. “Okay. Do your waitress bit for a few weeks and I’ll double my efforts on getting us out of hock. But no late hours,” he emphasized. “I want you home by midnight, period.”
That might be a problem. But why bother him with complications right now?
“We’ll see how it goes,” she said easily, getting to her feet. She planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’d better get you some lunch!”
She dashed into the kitchen before he could ask any more questions about her new employment.
But she wasn’t so lucky with Hettie. “I don’t like the idea of you working in a bar,” she told Janie firmly.
“Shhhh!” Janie cautioned, glancing toward the open kitchen door. “Don’t let Dad hear you!”
Hettie grimaced. “Child, you’ll end up in a brawl, sure as God made little green apples!”
“I will not. I’m going to waitress and make pizzas and sandwiches, not get in fights.”
Hettie wasn’t convinced. “Put men and liquor together, and you get a fight every time.”
“Mr. Duncan has a bouncer,” she confided. “I’ll be fine.”
“Mr. Hart won’t like it,” she replied.
“Nothing I do is any of Leo Hart’s business anymore,” Janie said with a glare. “After the things he’s said about me, his opinion wouldn’t get him a cup of coffee around here!”
“What sort of things?” Hettie wanted to know.
She rubbed her hands over the sudden chill of her arms. “That I’m a lying, gossiping, man-chaser who can’t leave him alone,” she said miserably. “He was talking about me to Joe Howland in the hardware store last week. I heard every horrible word.”
Hettie winced. She knew how Janie felt about the last of the unmarried Hart brothers. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry!”
“Marilee lied,” she added sadly. “My best friend! She was telling me what to do to make Leo notice me, and all the time she was finding ways to cut me out of his life. She was actually at the ball with Leo. He took her…” She swallowed hard and turned to the task at hand. Brooding was not going to help her situation. “Want a sandwich, Hettie?”
“No, darlin’, I’m fine,” the older woman told her. She hugged Janie warmly. “Life’s tangles work themselves out if you just give them enough time,” she said, and went away to let that bit of homespun philosophy sink in.
Janie was unconvinced. Her tangles were bad ones. Maybe her new job would keep Leo out of her thoughts. At least she’d never have to worry about running into him at Shea’s, she told herself. After Saturday night, he was probably off hard liquor for life.
By Saturday night, Janie had four days of work under her belt and she was getting used to the routine. Shea’s opened at lunchtime and closed at eleven. Shea’s served pizza and sandwiches and chips, as well as any sort of liquor a customer could ask for. Janie often had to serve drinks in between cooking chores. She got to recognize some of the customers on sight, but she didn’t make a habit of speaking to them. She didn’t want any trouble.
Her father had, inevitably, found out about her nocturnal activities. Saturday morning, he’d been raging at her for lying to him.
“I do work in a restaurant,” she’d defended herself. “It’s just sort of in a bar.”
“You work in a bar, period!” he returned, furious. “I want you to quit, right now!”
It was now or never, she told herself, as she faced him bravely. “No,” she replied quietly. “I’m not giving notice. Mr. Duncan said I could work two weeks and see if I could handle it, and that’s just what I’m going to do. And don’t you dare talk to him behind my back, Dad,” she told him.
He looked tormented. “Girl, this isn’t necessary!”
“It is, and not only because we need the money,” she’d replied. “I need to feel independent.”
He hadn’t considered that angle. She was determined, and Duncan did have a good bouncer, a huge man called, predictably, Tiny. “We’ll see,” he’d said finally.
Janie had won her first adult argument with her parent. She felt good about it.
Harley showed up two of her five nights on the job, just to check things out. He was back again tonight. She grinned at him as she served him pizza and beer.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
She looked around at the bare wood floors, the no-frills surroundings, the simple wooden tables and chairs and the long counter at which most of the customers—male customers—sat. There were two game machines and a juke-box. There were ceiling fans to circulate the heat, and to cool the place in summer. There was a huge dance floor, where people could dance to live music on Friday and Saturday night. The band was playing now, lazy Western tunes, and a couple was circling the dance floor alone.
“I really like it here,” she told Harley with a smile. “I feel as if I’m standing on my own two feet for the first time in my life.” She leaned closer. “And the tips are really nice!”
He chuckled. “Okay. No more arguments from me.” He glanced toward Tiny, a huge man with tattoos on both arms and a bald head, who’d taken an immediate liking to Janie. He was reassuringly close whenever she spoke to customers or served food and drinks.
“Isn’t he a doll?” Janie asked, smiling toward Tiny, who smiled back a little hesitantly, as if he were afraid his face might crack.
“That’s not a question you should ask a man, Janie,” he teased.
Grinning, she flipped her bar cloth at him, and went back to work.
Leo went looking for Fred Brewster after lunch on Monday. He’d been out of town at a convention, and he’d lost touch with his friend.
Fred was in his study, balancing figures that didn’t want to be balanced. He looked up as Hettie showed Leo in.
“Hello, stranger,” Fred said with a grin. “Sit down. Want some coffee? Hettie, how about…!”
“No need to shout, Mr. Fred, it’s already dripping,” she interrupted him with a chuckle. “I’ll bring it in when it’s done.”
“Cake, too!” he called.
There was a grumble.
“She thinks I eat too many sweets,” Fred told Leo. “Maybe I do. How was the convention?”
“It was pretty good,” Leo told him. “There’s a lot of talk about beef exports to Japan and improved labeling of beef to show country of origin. Some discussion of artificial additives,”