grin seemed to dance around her mouth. “That’s why he was eating you up with his eyes.”
Haley couldn’t prevent the shiver of pleasure that ran through her. “Don’t be silly.”
“I saw it, and I’ve been around the block more than once.” Claire’s grin faded. “Just watch it, Haley. The guy’s probably got a life somewhere else.”
He most likely did, Haley thought as she cleared the table and wiped it, just as another wave started to arrive. She owed it to herself to keep her eyes on her goals. That was the only sure way to build a future for herself.
But throughout the night she kept remembering how good Buck Devlin looked, and how nice he’d been. And how she’d responded to him as a woman.
Oh, well. Claire was right. He was just another rolling stone.
Chapter 2
Two nights later, Haley raced into work, her face burning. Hasty was sitting at his stool behind the cash register and his eyebrows lifted. “What the heck happened to you?”
“Dress rehearsal is a great time to find out I must be allergic to stage makeup.”
Hasty’s jaw dropped and then he let out a belly laugh. “No!”
“Oh, yes. Is there any still left? I scrubbed it so much with cold cream, but it still burns.”
“I can’t see it, but dang, girl, you look like you spent too long in the sun.”
“And I have to do this again on Friday and Saturday night,” Haley answered. “I can’t believe this.”
“Can’t they let you use something else?”
“I’m not sure it would work. Besides, I never wear makeup because it’s an expensive waste of money. For all I know, I’m allergic to all of it.”
“Go back and wash up some more. I got some of those over-the-counter pills that might help. It’ll make you sleepy, though. Maybe you should just take the night off.”
“Not unless you think I look that bad. I got bills, remember?”
Hasty chuckled a little and shook his head. “Soap and water, then I’ll give you one of them little pink pills. If you’re slow tonight, I won’t hold it against you.”
Haley took his advice, scrubbing well with soap from the hand dispenser, and leaning close to the mirror to check for any remnants of makeup. She couldn’t find any, but her whole face looked red and just a bit puffy.
When she got back out front, Hasty and Claire were seated on opposite sides of the counter, drinking coffee and chatting. Claire took one look and shook her head.
“Can’t you get someone else to fill in for you? What do they call them? Understudies?”
“Not for my role. It’s too small. No, I’ll just have to get through this.”
She slid onto a stool beside Claire with a cup of coffee and accepted the pill Hasty popped out of a blister pack into her hand. “I didn’t know I was in trouble until after the rehearsal had started. I wanted to scratch my face off.”
“You need to be careful,” Claire said. “I had a cousin who had an allergic reaction and it put her in the hospital the second time she had it. The first time wasn’t that bad.”
“I should be able to get the makeup on and off in about fifteen minutes Friday night. And everybody knows what happened.”
“That’s good. They’ll know what’s going on if it gets bad. Maybe it would help to put some petroleum jelly on your face before the makeup.”
“That’s an idea. Thanks.”
Hasty poured himself some more coffee, then came back to lean his elbow on the counter. “Ray’s wake is tonight and tomorrow night. Funeral Friday morning. I’m thinking about going to the funeral.”
“I guess I should,” Haley said reluctantly. The last funeral she had been to was her mother’s, and she wasn’t sure she ever again wanted to see the inside of Meeker’s Funeral Home. “The wake, anyway. For a few minutes. I have a final Friday morning.”
“Ray had his troubles,” Hasty opined, “but the family’s never been a problem. Being poor ain’t a sin, despite what some think.”
“You’re talking to a couple of waitresses,” Claire said, a touch tartly. “We know.”
Hasty flashed a grin. “You girls get better tips than my day girls. They got you beat on poor.”
Claire sniffed. “Your day girls don’t work as hard. If they want more money, tell them to work nights.”
Hasty was still looking amused. “I think they get that.”
A short while later, the night’s first wave rolled in. Haley and Claire jumped to work, and after a little while, even though she noticed she was a little slower than usual, Haley felt her face calming down.
At least nobody asked her about it. She joked casually with some of the drivers, but it seemed like an oddly quiet night. She wondered if news about Ray’s death had gotten around and they were all feeling a little more sober than usual.
The place sure didn’t feel quite as energetic as it usually did when it was full. Or maybe that was the little pill Hasty had given her.
She was working her way back through her section, clearing some tables, handing out tickets and picking up cash and change, serving latecomers, when Buck Devlin walked in. It was so unusual to see him when the place was crowded that she froze for a split second. He got his usual table, though, despite the crowd, and she worked her way toward him.
It wasn’t easy. The night turned unusual in that another wave arrived before the first was done. Hasty was cooking with both hands as fast as he could, and Claire was looking a bit frazzled. What was going on?
Then someone asked her for directions to the funeral parlor and she knew: these men had heard about Ray’s death and that his wake started tonight. Whether they’d known him or not, at least some were going to pay their respects, however briefly.
Because of the hour, most ate quickly, then headed out to walk to the funeral home, only a couple of blocks away.
“Isn’t that something?” Claire murmured to her as they brushed past each other.
Haley nodded. It was the last thing she would have expected.
At last she made it to Buck’s table. By this point her apron was showing signs of wear and a tickle at her neck told her some of her hair had escaped from the bun.
“The usual?” she asked him.
“Not tonight,” he answered. “What do you recommend?”
“Anything,” she answered promptly. “It’s all good.”
“Then surprise me.” He smiled, but the expression
