“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he told me as I finished the final touches of piping on the chocolate cake I had made.
“Oh, you would survive,” I answered, winking.
I pulled my apple pies out of the oven and studied my handiwork. I had decided to use a new design for the tops, and I was pleasantly surprised at how it had turned out. Instead of the normal lattice design, I had meticulously cut out designs of leaves and vines. Fall had come to Seattle a little early, and I knew our customers would appreciate the look and taste of autumn on a plate.
Grinning, I handed Martin the last pie before sauntering out to the dining room to get ready for the dinner rush. I had nearly completed all my prep work when the missing waitress, Ashley, came slinking in, four hours late for her shift. My boss, Hank, was at her heels.
I glared at Ashley as Hank grazed his hand over her ass. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where she had been for the last four hours. Shaking my head, I turned my back on both of them. What did I care? At least I got the extra tips.
“So, how was the lunch crowd?” Ashley asked, walking up beside me and leaning against the nearest table. She made no move to help me with the prep work.
“Steady,” I replied shortly, not even bothering to look at her. I couldn’t afford to get in a fight with her. Not at the beginning of the shift when customers were supposed to be showing up any minute. I needed the money too badly.
“Good,” she replied.
I glanced up at her and frowned at her smile. Why would she care how the lunch hour went?
“Yeah, well, I guess,” I said, focusing my attention back on the prep work.
“Where are my tips?” she asked.
I looked up at her, startled. “Your what?” I asked incredulously.
“My tips,” she answered slowly as if she was speaking to a simpleton. “You know, from my tables.”
“What tables?” I asked, still confused. There was no way she was demanding tips from tables I had waited on…was there?
“The tables that were assigned to me during the lunch hour,” she answered.
“Are you joking?” I asked, stunned.
“Do I look like I am joking?”
“You only get tips when you are here to actually wait on those tables, Ashley. You weren’t here.”
Ashely shrugged. “So? They were my tables.”
I gaped at her, not quite sure how to answer.
“Hank!” she called, smirking at me. “Emma is trying to steal my tips.”
“What?” Hank called, ambling his fat frame out into the dining room. “Emma? You’re stealing tips?”
“What? No!” I answered, my face flaming with anger. “Those are my tips! She wasn’t here for the lunch hour, so I had to cover her tables and mine. Those tips are mine, fair and square.”
“I don’t think so,” Hank said, leering. “She was on a special assignment for me. Give her the tips from her tables.”
“But—” I started to protest.
“If you argue, I’ll let her take all the tips from the lunch hour,” Hank growled.
Shoving the money into Ashley’s hands, I glared at Hank before stomping off to the kitchen. Ashley’s giggling rang in my ears.
“What bee flew into your bonnet?” Martin asked, looking up from his own prep work.
“Ashley took all my lunch tips,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“How in the world did she get away with that?” Martin asked, frowning in confusion.
“Hank,” I answered, slamming a tray down.
“Dick,” Martin muttered. “Hey, gal, don’t let it get you down.”
“I’ll do my best,” I answered, sighing. “I just need a few minutes away from her.”
Martin nodded and walked over to the walk-in fridge, beckoning me to follow. Reaching into a box hidden in the far back, he pulled out two beers and handed me one. Grinning, I flipped an empty plastic crate over and sat down, sipping my beer and mentally preparing myself for what was sure to be a very long night.
There must have been a live band at the Teton Lounge or something because the diner was packed with people the moment we opened for dinner. Over half of them were bikers.
Weaving in and out of the customers, I dodged groping hands and stumbling bodies like a pro as I placed plates of food in front of hungry, drunk customers. The good thing about them being drunk was the over-generous tips.
I was able to avoid Ashley for most of the night and kept a close watch on my tips. Pulling another large order out of the window, I gave Martin a small smile.
“How’s it going?” he asked, returning my smile.
“I think I will make it,” I said, laughing a little.
Then, I heard the unmistakable sound of Theo’s voice. Closing my eyes, I pushed my dread down and took a deep breath. I had clearly spoken way too soon.
Three
Rex
The ice-cold air of Seattle whipped my face as I sped down the all but deserted streets. The air itself was wetter than any I had ever felt in La Playa, and it tasted like the ocean. The ride into Seattle had been one of the prettiest I had ever seen. The trees looked like they were on fire with bursts of red, yellow, and orange mixed in with the green.
I knew right away that I was going to like it here. It was so different from anything I had ever known, and it filled me with an exciting sense of adventure. Ryder had sent me and my bandmates to Seattle to take possession of some stolen auto parts. We were also supposed to play at the Teton Lounge in order to give us a cover and a way to launder the money from the stolen parts.
The problem was finding the Teton Lounge. Apparently, the owner kept burning the place down to collect the insurance, and it was not at the address Ryder gave us. Sighing, I whipped my bike into the parking lot of an overcrowded diner. Maybe someone there would know how to find the lounge.
Coyote and Mack pulled up next to me, killing the engines on their bikes. Chase followed close behind in our old beat-up Econoline van. It held all of our instruments and gear. Before leaving La Playa, Ryder had explained that the four of us would become nomads and travel the country doing business for the club. Our band, the Nomad Souls, was our cover for whatever job we were doing. Ryder had told us that most of the jobs were collecting stolen auto parts for the club’s auto shop, Ortega. The band was the perfect cover to launder money and pick up the parts. It also gave us the freedom we each craved.
Ryder had also assured Coyote that his mother would be well looked after. Vlad had agreed vehemently, and after hearing about Iris’s latest boyfriend, he had jumped on his bike and turned toward Coyote’s house. I grinned at the memory as I glanced at Coyote. He looked happy. All three of them did. The open road did wonders for our spirits, and having a real gig was exciting. If we could ever find the place.
Looking up, my eyes were assaulted with a neon sign that read Rainy Day Diner. Given the exorbitant amount of rain Seattle received, the name was actually pretty witty.
Swinging my leg over my bike, I dismounted and turned to make my way inside when the sound of roaring engines filled my ears. Turning, I saw five bikes pulling into the parking lot, their riders swerving to scare random pedestrians. It was the kind of behavior that gave us all a bad name. It was also incredibly immature.