The Lottery Winner. Emilie Rose
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Miri came back after seeing out her nephew. “Jessie, no matter how high-handed Logan gets, promise me you’ll remember he’s a good boy. He means well.”
Why did that sound like a warning?
* * *
BY THE TIME the dinner rush ended Saturday evening, Jessie was a nervous wreck. She wanted to retreat to her walled compound and not emerge for a week. She was so exhausted her old solitude was starting to appeal.
Not only had they been run-off-their-feet busy yesterday and today, but every time a customer had paused in front of her Key deer painting, adrenaline had surged into her veins, making her heart beat double time. The piece hadn’t sold. She hadn’t expected it to. Not really. Especially at the ridiculous price Logan had slapped on it. And yet a lingering disappointment and sense of rejection weighted her.
A ding from the bartender’s bell signaled that Jessie’s drink order for table twelve was ready. She hustled over to pick it up and spotted Logan at a back corner table. He hadn’t been there earlier. She knew, because she’d been watching for him. His unrelenting scrutiny made her nervous. He caught her eye before she could escape and signaled her over.
Seriously? Could he not see she was too busy to wait on him?
“Where’s the new girl?” he asked when she stopped by his table.
“She dropped a tray during the lunch rush and ran out. She hasn’t returned.”
His lips turned down. “I hope Miri had the good sense to fire her. I haven’t seen Pam, either.”
Pam was a quiet, stay-to-herself woman who raced away the minute she clocked out. Jessie’d had little interaction with her. Today she’d learned why. A single mother, Pam tried to spend as little time away from her three kids as possible. Otherwise, her husband would claim her unfit and sue for full custody. She was what Logan had referred to as one of Miri’s projects.
“Pam’s at home with a sick kid.”
“Are you handling this crowd alone?”
“Sue’s working.”
“You’re delivering a lot of her orders.”
He’d been watching her. Goose bumps lifted her skin. “It’s easy for me to bring them when I’m on my way into the dining room anyway.”
The long hours were getting to the older woman. Jessie had caught her leaning heavily against the kitchen wall while waiting for orders a few times.
The front door opened, and a party of ten entered. She needed to get back to work. “Did you want something? I’m really busy.”
Logan gathered his belongings and rose. “An order book.”
She blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Get me an order pad. I’ll help. Sue doesn’t need to push so hard.”
She agreed wholeheartedly, but... “Do you know how to wait tables or operate the computer system?”
“Yes and yes.”
Dumbfounded by his unexpected assistance, it took her a moment to kick into gear. The bartender gave her the pad. She passed it to Logan.
“Which section should I take?”
She told him.
“Got it.” And then he walked off, leaving her with a tray of drinks to deliver and a load of questions.
Who was this man? The suspicious control freak who watched her and tried to micromanage Miri, or a devoted nephew who would do anything to help his aunt? She had to find out.
* * *
THE MUSIC WENT silent then all but the main dining room’s lights went dark. Jessie dropped the last refilled saltshaker into the holder and stretched her tired back.
Miri came out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine. “Girls, we deserve a glass.”
“Amen,” Sue said and ducked behind the bar to snag three glasses and a corkscrew, leaving Jessie with the impression the women had shared nightcaps before.
“Jessie, dump that and join us,” Miri insisted. “I sent Logan off with the night deposit ten minutes ago. We should have a few minutes’ peace. C’mon,” she added when Jessie hesitated.
This was the perfect opportunity to find out whether he was Jekyll or Hyde. After seeing how well he’d interacted with tonight’s guests, Jessie was more confused than ever. She carried the box to the kitchen and returned.
Miri eased into a chair as if her body ached. “I haven’t had to bus tables in ages. I forgot how hard it was.”
Sue sank across from her even more slowly. “Tonight required more hustle than I had in me. Busy season’s starting. Better find some new blood soon. I’m not sure how many weeks like this I can handle. And we still have tomorrow to get through. I couldn’t have made it without your help, Jessie. Don’t think I didn’t notice you grabbing my orders.” She pulled a wad of bills from her pocket. “You deserve half of this.”
Touched by the gesture, Jessie shook her head. “No, Sue. Thank you, but I don’t want your tips. My mama always taught me to pitch in when needed. That’s all I was doing.”
Blushing, the woman hesitated, then nodded and repocketed her money. “Your mama raised a fine girl.”
Miri filled and distributed the glasses then lifted hers and sampled the golden liquid. “Mmm. This is good. I’ll have to stock more of it.”
“I’ll second that,” Sue added after tasting.
Jessie searched for a way to settle her curiosity. “It was nice of Logan to help. He really seemed to know what he was doing.”
Miri nodded. “Logan came to live with me and Jack six months after his mother died. He did everything from fishing and filleting with Jack’s crew to bussing tables then waiting them here. He’s a hard worker. I’ll give him that.”
“Wasn’t his dad around?” Jessie asked.
“Carter buried himself in his grief and his work after Virginia passed and forgot all about parenting his son. By the time I figured out Carter wasn’t going to snap out of it, Logan had become a pro at fetching his own groceries, fixing his meals and getting himself to school. He covered for his father so well not even the school counselor suspected anything was wrong.”
Sue nodded. “And Carter didn’t even notice. That hasn’t changed.”
Jessie’d had students in similar, or even worse, situations to Logan’s, and she sympathized. She’d been blessed with involved parents, and hers had always been there to offer encouragement, guidance or a reprimand when needed. She depended on them as sounding boards—which was why living solo was so hard now.
Sue’s reply raised more questions about Logan,