Page 44 of Five Brothers

I take the last step up to him. “And my father?”

He smiles. “Maybe,” he taunts. “Who knows?”

Oh my God. They could have stuff I might be able to use.

Or stuff I’d want deleted. Especially if it’s about my family. A lot of talking goes on at Fox Hill. They might’ve picked up a lot of useful info.

My chest rises and falls.

He plucks my phone out of my pocket and taps his number into my contacts.

I gaze up at him and then down to his chest at my eye level. His sternum dips underneath his T-shirt, and I get warm everywhere.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” I tell him. “You’re too old for me.”

Just so we’re clear.

We both know that any woman around his family, and not related to his family, is on the menu. If I’m coming over there every day, I want it understood that I’m not. Women love a hot, single dad, but it’s little weird that his son’s mother is never mentioned.

He doesn’t say anything or even look at me, just fights a smile tilting up his mouth.

“What?” I ask.

He smiles like he has a secret.

He shakes his head, but he starts smiling more. “Nothing.” He hands me back my phone, and I take it, brushing his fingers as I do.

Time slows as the wheels in my head turn. I don’t think itwould’ve been Army last night. He’d said “I can wonder if it’s my son he’s playing Daddy to.”

Army already has a son, so wouldn’t he have said “one of my sons” instead?

He starts to walk away, my gaze lingering on his back.

It’s really not a good idea for me to be over there five days a week, eight hours a day.

I hesitate a moment before saying, “I need to help get my brother and sister off to school in the mornings,” I inform him. “Tell Mariette I can be there by seven thirty.”

What the hell am I doing?

He looks back at me over his shoulder. “Okay.”

“I’ll talk to her about my schedule tomorrow,” I add. “And I keep what I earn. Plus the repairs on my car.”

He nods once. “Deal.”

Five days a week. Eight-hour days. That was optimistic of me.

Almost a week later, I still haven’t had a day off. And every day gets longer than the last. I was here for almost twelve hours yesterday, but my brother and sister went to a birthday party at a trampoline place with our aunt and cousins, so I didn’t feel bad about staying late. There just always seems to be more to do here. Every day. Deliveries need to be unloaded, inventory stocked, someone’s sick, someone left early and couldn’t clean their stations, the soda’s out, a tour bus is coming in, my relief needs to be trained … by me. When I just started days ago.

And occasionally, very special customers have the privilege of getting their food delivered to them, which isn’t something Mariette’s does for everyone.

I even helped in the kitchen before the lunch rush today. Pretty sure she almost kicked me out when I asked, “Aren’t key limes justlimes?” Twenty minutes later, I left sweating and fully aware that they were absolutely not.

Quite honestly, I love working here, though. I can get a clean fork, refill a drink, remember all the orders for a table of six without writing anything down, carry five plates at a time, and deliver the shrimp bisque to table eight, the beef tips to table one, and the beer to table eleven in one magical and beautiful dance through the room. I’m finally good at something.

“Krisjen!” Mariette shouts through the window between the kitchen and the server station. “I warned you about the roller skates!”

I coast down the aisle, a plate of food in each hand like a pro.

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