Allison was a secretary. And so was she.
Given the choice, Christian would pick Allison over her any day of the week. And she figured that, to keep the peace, Sawyer would ultimately agree to letting her go in favor of Allison.
“What can I do for you?” Ben asked.
Mariah sat at the table closest to the counter. “Do you have any pizza left?”
“The one with four kinds of cheese and all the extras?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “I suspect I’ve got a couple tucked away in the freezer,” he told her. “I generally don’t bake them unless I have a special request.”
“Would you be willing to consider this a special request?” Mariah asked. “It’s a food emergency.”
“A food emergency,” Ben repeated, grinning. “Hey, I like that.” He raised his hand and read the imaginary words, pointing one finger as he spoke. “Hard Luck Café, specializing in food emergencies.” Then the amusement left his eyes, and he muttered, “It might go over better than my frequent-eater program.”
“Could you feed me the pizza intravenously?” she joked, but it was a struggle.
Ben pulled out a chair and sat down next to her. “What’s the problem, kiddo?”
Mariah knew that a lot of the men in town talked to Ben; he was a good sounding board and a faithful friend. She liked and trusted him, but she wasn’t comfortable talking about the situation between her and Christian. It didn’t seem fair to unburden her soul to a friend of the O’Hallorans.
“I don’t have anything one of your pizzas won’t cure,” she assured him.
“Coming right up.” Ben stood and patted her affectionately on the shoulder. “You want anything to go with that?”
“Diet soda,” she told him, knowing he’d find humor in her downing his million-calorie pizza with a diet drink.
“This could take a while,” he said on his way to the kitchen. “The oven’s got to heat up first.”
“No problem.”
There were dirty lunch dishes on a couple of the tables, and because she felt too restless to sit there doing nothing, Mariah cleared them away.
“Thanks,” Ben told her as she carried the dishes into the kitchen. “I meant to do that earlier.”
“Anything else you need help with?” she asked.
“Nah.”
But when she’d brought in the dishes from the second table, she noticed that some of the paper-napkin dispensers were empty. She asked Ben about that.
“I’ve been meaning to fill those, too, but I got sidetracked.”
“I’ll do it,” she said, eager to occupy her hands while she waited for her food.
“I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately,” Ben admitted. “Guess I’d better stop watching those late-night talk shows.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be needing extra help?” she asked hopefully. “Someone to wait tables, wash dishes, fill the napkin dispensers, that sort of thing.”
“You serious?”
More than he knew. If everything went according to Christian’s plan, her boss was about to lure the beautiful Allison Reynolds back to Hard Luck and offer her Mariah’s job.
“I’m very serious,” she told Ben.
“Actually I’ve been thinking about getting some help for a while now. In fact, I was about to ask Christian to pass along some of the applications he collected last year.”
“I thought business was, uh, down a bit.” She spoke as tactfully as she could. She’d heard that a decrease in customers was the reason he’d started the frequent-eater program.
“It’s not so bad lately,” Ben said, leaning against the counter. “I’m here 365 days a year. You can’t blame a man for wanting a break now and then. Have you got someone in mind for the job?”
Mariah nodded.
“Who?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Me.”
“You?”
Despite her best efforts, her lower lip quivered slightly. “Christian’s in Seattle and he...he’s with Allison Reynolds.”
“Listen, Mariah, I don’t know what he sees in that woman, but trust me, your position with Midnight Sons is safe! Sawyer isn’t going to let him replace you with anyone.”
“I’ve known for a long time that Christian would love to get rid of me.”
“I’m not saying whether that’s true or not, but I will say that his attitude underwent a...minor adjustment the week you were away.”
“Well, that’s nice,” she murmured a little sarcastically. “But he’d do anything to convince Allison to move here. He’s been hung up on her all year.”
Ben didn’t argue. Rubbing the side of his jaw, he frowned. “I don’t know what to advise you.”
“If you don’t hire me, maybe Pete Livengood will,” she said. “He might need someone to stock shelves for him.”
“Now don’t do anything rash.” Ben patted her hand. “Sawyer’s always been on your side, no matter how much Christian griped.”
Which was another way of telling her that Christian had done plenty of griping.
The oven buzzed in the background. “Let me get your pizza into the oven and I’ll be right back,” Ben told her, scurrying to the kitchen.
She could apply for a position with the state, too, she mused while he was gone. But if she got a government job, it was unlikely she’d be able to continue living in Hard Luck, which made the idea less appealing.
“You sure you’d want to work in a restaurant?” Ben asked when he returned. His look was thoughtful.
“I’m positive.” The way she saw things, she wouldn’t have much of a choice.
“If you don’t want to stay with Midnight Sons anymore, you can have a job right here.”
The lump in Mariah’s throat wouldn’t go away. The computer screen blurred as her eyes filled with unshed tears. Swallowing hard, she quickly typed out her letter of resignation. Every word was like the end of a dream, the end of her hopes. The printer spewed out the single sheet, and she took a few minutes to compose herself before signing it.
When Mariah was fairly certain she wouldn’t make a
