Page 105 of Before She Disappeared

CHAPTER 28

Stoney is not happy with my late arrival.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I say.

He gives me a look. The look. No one likes that look.

I don’t provide an explanation or an excuse. I already know it doesn’t matter. Instead, I do the best damage control I can: I get to work, and I work fast. Thirty minutes later, when the front doors open and the first wave of locals arrive, I’m already pouring spicy cocktail peanuts and pulling beers. Today, I get a few nods in recognition. Not words yet, but physical acknowledgment that I’m still here. I’ll take it.

The night busies up. Which is all well and good in my world. I don’t want or need the constant buzz of too many thoughts in my head.

Nine p.m., the first break arrives. I head back to the kitchen long enough to request a garden salad from Viv. She looks me up and down.

“You’re not getting laid.”

“Sorry.”

“Whatdya waiting for? No man’s gonna be better looking.”

“Don’t tell your husband that.”

A snicker. “Enjoy your salad. But live a little, too. Life’s too damn short, or haven’t you heard?”

More food deliveries to various tables, more pitchers of rum punch. Then I get fifteen minutes to inhale salad. “Love it,” I inform Viv. “Thank you very much. Have I mentioned that I stole your eggs and fries?”

“Not my eggs and fries.”

“I stole Stoney’s eggs and fries.”

“Better work hard, then. He’s fussy like that.”

I take that to heart, turning into a whirling dervish of hospitality. Tables served, drinks delivered, smiles extended. I’m like the Wonder Woman of food and beverage. By eleven, when things have settled and we’re down to the die-hards, Stoney says:

“Easy now. You’re starting to freak me out.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You are a piss-poor employee.”

“Good news, though. I’m not so bad on the missing persons front.”

“Angelique Badeau is coming home?”

“Hard-ass. Maybe tomorrow.”

He gives me a look.

“Maybe,” I insist. Then, more thoughtfully, “Stoney, you must’ve seen a bunch of fake IDs in your time.”

“It comes up.”

“What’d you think?”

“About what?”

“The market, quality, et cetera.”

He shrugs, gathers up dirty glasses. “Don’t have an opinion. Ones I saw, I seized, per the law. Plus, I don’t have any interest in serving kids. Then again, you’ve seen our crowd; not exactly the college type. I don’t get the big deal myself. If you can die for your country at eighteen, why not have a beer?”

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