he said, “I’m not selfish. I’ll do what I can to help your business thrive.”
Violet snorted. “Not selfish, not modest...” Her nose wrinkled. “You have a hairy chest.”
“True enough.” Slanting her a look, he added, “Hairy thighs, too. And on my stomach, there’s this line of—”
“It’s enough that you don’t wear a net on your head. I don’t want to have to worry about chest hair in the sauce.”
She definitely sounded hoarse. “I don’t exactly shed, you know.” He frowned at her and saw she appeared distracted, leaning a hand against a table and drawing a slow breath.
“You okay?” he asked, wondering if the waitress was right about her being ill.
“Exhilarated.” Quickly she straightened, patted his shoulder and took off again, her hands loaded with platters of meat.
For a little while, Hogan wondered about her. But they were too busy for him to dwell on anything but his job. The night droned on, and during small respites, Hogan prepared more ribs for the following day. His process required hours of precooking before the meat ever touched the grill. He worked alone, guarding his secret recipe—what a joke—which required him to hustle back and forth between the rear kitchen area and where the grills were set up.
Colt and his friends sat at a picnic table nearby, drinking tea and devouring burgers. The new girl was indeed cute, and if Hogan was a judge, his son had already won her over.
When Colt introduced him, Hogan felt a familiar, unmistakable pride. Despite the not-too-distant-past turmoil of their lives, Colt was a remarkable young man, and not just physically. He did well in school and he enjoyed helping others. Hogan knew he couldn’t take all the credit for that, but he didn’t want to think about his wife.
Before long, he saw that Colt had his arm around the girl and she rested her head on his shoulder. Hiding his smile, Hogan repeatedly glanced their way.
The move had been tough on Colt, but things were looking up for both of them.
The lingering crowds grew mellow as they neared the midnight hour. It was a few minutes to closing time when Kristy, a waitress, found him cleaning the grills.
“Hey, Hogan, got a minute?”
He glanced at her. She was young, cute and exceptionally friendly. Tonight, though, she looked worried. Aware of Colt watching him, Hogan said, “What’s up?”
“I wasn’t sure who to talk to.”
He closed the grill and cleaned his hands on a dish towel. “Something’s wrong?”
“It’s Violet. I think she’s really sick.”
An unfamiliar emotion tightened in his chest. Worry, he decided. Only worry for the boss. He wouldn’t allow it to be anything else. Not since his wife...
He shook his head. “Where is she?”
“In her office. But she’s been in there awhile and it’s time to shut down. You know Violet always oversees things.”
Colt appeared at his side. “Anything you want me to do?”
Now see? How could he not beam with pride?
“Maybe.” Often when Hogan worked at the restaurant, Colt was around. He probably knew the routine better than the actual employees. “Where’s Beth?” She was Violet’s assistant manager, and one of them was always around.
“She had her baby, so she’s on maternity leave. Violet’s in charge tonight.”
Well, hell. He turned to his son. “You mind giving Kristy a hand?”
The way Kristy smiled at Colt made Hogan want to growl. He said, “You’re not eighteen yet, so don’t touch any alcohol, all right?”
Kristy laughed. “That’s his way of telling me you’re off-limits.” She patted Hogan’s shoulder. “I’m already aware, Dad.” Then she added to Colt, “You do look a lot older, though.”
Colt grinned, not in the least embarrassed. “Let me say ’bye to my friends, and then I’m all yours.”
Kristy watched him walk away, a hand to her heart.
Hogan rolled his eyes, hooked his arm through Kristy’s and hauled her back into the restaurant, giving directions along the way.
It never occurred to him that he might be overstepping.
Since he could still be considered relatively new with only a month under his belt, there were others at the restaurant probably more qualified, but they all seemed relieved to have him take charge.
After setting things in motion, he peeked in on Violet. She was asleep at her desk. For only a moment he looked down at her. Those damned strange feelings stirred again; this time he ignored them.
He wanted to immediately wake her and suggest she go home, but instead he slipped back out of the office without making a sound. Far as he could tell, the restaurant was Violet’s number one priority. If he woke her before everything was done, she’d probably start pitching in when clearly she needed some rest.
The employees knew their jobs, but still welcomed his reminders of how Violet preferred things done. He, himself, did her usual duties, running the end-of-day reports, balancing the books and closing out the cash drawer. He locked the remaining money in the safe and left the register open.
After Colt and Kristy left, Hogan did a final sweep of the building, set the security alarms on all but the back door and finally went to Violet’s office. Before he could open the door, he heard a rasping cough. Again, he opened it and stepped in.
Violet, looking messier than he’d ever seen her, leaned over the papers again scattered across her desk.
“Violet?”
Slowly she turned her face toward him.
Her bloodshot eyes surprised him. Sick. He stepped in farther. “Hey, you okay?”
She looked from him to the paperwork. “I don’t know.” More coughs racked her.
Hogan strode forward and put a hand to her forehead. “Shit. You’re burning up.”
“What time is it?”
“A few minutes after midnight.”
“Oh.” She pushed back from the desk but didn’t make it far. “The restaurant,” she gasped in between strained breaths.
“I took care of it.” Holding her elbow, he helped to support her as she stood. His most pressing thought was getting her home and in bed. No, not the way he’d like, but definitely the way she needed. “Where are your car keys?”
Unsteady on her feet, she frowned. “What do you mean, you took care of it?”
“You have good employees—you know that. They’re aware of the routine. Colt pitched in, too. Everything is done.”
