Sleigh Bells in Valentine Valley (9 page)

Her two-top looked ready to order, and she bluffed her way through the menu, writing everything down—unlike the expert, Tony. He was there at the POS when she entered the order, looking over her shoulder, guiding her when she needed help. She fumbled a lot, with him standing so near, and let out her breath in a rush when he finally stepped away to prepare her drink order.

The flare-up of her old physical attraction to him was going to be damned inconvenient.

The place got a little busier around noon, and Tony took a table or two himself, for which she was grateful. She saw his dad come in, begin to sit at the bar—then do a double take when he saw her. He went back to wait by the
PLEASE ALLOW US TO SEAT YOU
sign.

Kate smiled as she approached him. “Good afternoon, Mr. De Luca.”

“Kate.” He studied her cautiously, holding a cap in his hand that must have protected his balding head. “Are you helping out?”

“I am. I didn't have anything to do, and one of Tony's servers can't come in for a few weeks. I used to work at my family restaurant when I was a kid.”

“I remember. Tony insisted clearing tables at Carmina's was the only job he'd have,” Mr. De Luca said dryly.

“How could I have forgotten that?” They'd wanted to be together so much that Tony had boldly asked her parents for a job. She'd been flattered that she'd meant so much to him. “Let me get you settled at a table. You must be thirsty. Is this your lunch break from work?”

He nodded, taking the chair she'd pulled out for him. “Couple houses with frozen pipes bursting this morning.”

She winced. “That's awful. Hope it wasn't too big a mess.”

She brought him water and a menu, remembering that, unlike Lyndsay, Mr. De Luca had never been anything but polite to her since the divorce. Not that they saw each other all that much. She noticed him glance at Tony over his reading glasses, but she couldn't understand the look.

While she had a moment, Kate retreated behind the bar and stood next to Tony, who was pouring a glass of wine.

“So does your dad come in often?” she asked.

“Couple times a week.”

“I don't think he knew what to make of me.”

“I think lots of people will have the same thoughts when they see you working here. You sure you're up for it? I know you're trying to pretend you're on a vacation—this won't help with that.”

She made a face. “I know. But I was going stir-crazy. People who need to know why I'm here—I'll eventually tell them a bit more.”

When she returned from delivering the glass of wine and taking Mr. De Luca's order, she stood at the POS and slowly inputted it.

Tony approached her. “You know my dad's going to ask me questions.”

“Go ahead and tell him I've taken a sabbatical. That's what I'll tell anyone else who asks. Then . . . they can all imagine whatever they want.” She sighed on finishing her order, then smiled up at Tony. “Your dad reminded me that you'd taken your first restaurant job at Carmina's. So I'm the reason you're still in the restaurant business all these years later.” And then she remembered the loan, and her smile turned to an earnest frown. “Oh, Tony, I didn't mean—”

“I know what you meant,” he said, his voice light and neutral.

She put a hand on his upper arm. “Really? Because I wasn't thinking about the loan. But now I'm wondering—did you offer me the job because you felt like you had to?”

He looked down at her hand, and she realized his muscles had gone tense. Could touching him be called flirting? She'd promised herself she'd never do that.

She let go, flushing. “Sorry. No sexual harassment of the boss.”

His expression eased. “Right. As for the job—no, I didn't think about the loan either.”

“Then why did you give it to me? I know I acted wild and desperate—”

“Not two words I normally associate with you.”

She waved a hand impatiently.

“I thought you might drive our son crazy otherwise.”

She smiled up at him. “If that's it, then I'll take it. You're not bad as a boss, you know.”

“So that's the reason my employees don't quit?” He heard the bell signaling that an order of food was ready. “This is only the first day. You might totally change your mind.”

T
ony wasn't surprised when his dad lingered longer than normal, waiting for Tony to find time to sit down with him. By three in the afternoon, Tony had a chance, so he left Kate polishing and rolling silverware into linen napkins.

“Hey, Dad.” He slid into a chair and took a sip of the water his dad hadn't touched.

“Tony.” Mario was still nursing the one beer he allowed himself at lunch. “It's an interesting day, I take it.”

Tony's gaze went to Kate, who was bent over the silverware with all the determination she probably showed trial briefs. “Yeah, you can say that.”

“Is this some new method of self-torture?”

Tony chuckled. “Honestly, Dad, people seem to think Kate and I must hate each other. That's not true. It's . . . awkward, yeah, but you didn't see her. She's really beat up about this problem at her law firm. She's on sabbatical until things get figured out.”

Mario frowned. “Isn't that like getting laid off?”

“Naw, I think she still gets her salary. She just has to . . . think about stuff, I guess.”

“You think she's thinking of moving back to Valentine Valley?”

Tony almost gaped at his dad. “Of course not! She doesn't want the kind of clients she'd represent here.”

“She's in Vail, after all.”

“They're a lot closer to Denver, and that makes a difference.”

“There's Aspen . . .”

“Nope, trust me, that's the farthest thing from her mind. She's in charge of that branch of her law firm. She's not giving up that kind of power.”

“But she's taken a waitressing job—”

“The PC term is
server
, Dad,” Tony said with a smile.

“The point is, she's here. She didn't go to Cal Carpenter and ask to work at his law firm.”

“She can't do that without quitting the other firm. She's just . . . passing time, looking at it as a challenge. She can't be with Ethan all the time. And Ethan's the one who was worried she had nothing to do.”

“So he'll be fine with this.”

“I think so.”

“Good. I'll tell her.”

“Tell who?”

“Who? Oh, nobody. Lyndsay.”

But Tony got the feeling his dad wasn't talking about Lyndsay.

“What do you mean, Kate's challenged by working here?” Mario suddenly said.

Tony put his curiosity aside. “Well, she kind of took it as a challenge because I told her to work here, just to stop her desperate rambling.”

“This was
your
idea.” His dad sat back in his chair and stared at him.

Tony cleared his throat. “Well, yeah. So what?”

“Tony, don't get me wrong, boy, but . . . this might have been a bad idea.”

“What harm could there be? So she'll drive me nuts, but in a couple weeks or so she'll be gone again.”

“What if she doesn't drive you nuts—what if you
like
her being here?”

“Why are you emphasizing it that way? If she does a good job, I won't mind her being here.”

Mario glanced again at Kate, and Tony saw that she was talking to one of her tables, smiling broadly, short blond hair dancing around her head as she gestured when she spoke.

“Tony, be careful. Don't let her hurt you again.”

Before Tony could respond to that ridiculous statement, the door opened and Ethan walked in.

“Hey, Dad and Grandpa,” he said, flinging his backpack on a nearby chair. “Dad, I've been texting Mom, and she doesn't answer. Where do you think—”

And then they all heard her laughter.

Relief crossed Ethan's face, then confusion. “She's waitin' on a table, Dad,” he whispered.

“I know,” Tony whispered back, trying not to laugh. “She needed something to do—you said so yourself. So she's working here.” He didn't bother to point out that Mario thought he'd challenged her to a competition, like this
mattered
.

It couldn't matter to her, not really. She'd always been faintly dismissive of the restaurant business. He used to think it was because she'd wanted so much more, but toward the end of their marriage, he'd assumed she thought such work was beneath her—beneath him. Years later, even though divorced, he knew her better, knew that it was about the pressures of a family business and her need to escape. Sadly, she hadn't learned how to keep from pressuring herself.

Yet . . . he heard her laughter again. She'd taken this job even though people were going to gossip about her. It was pretty bizarre . . .

Ethan watched his mom work for a while, his eyes full of bemusement.

Kate cleared a table after a departing couple, then came over and pulled up a chair. “Hi, E. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You didn't answer my texts, Mom. I thought that was the worst sin ever.”

She blushed. “I'm sorry. I haven't looked at my phone since I started working.” She leaned forward and fake-whispered, “Blame your father. He's a strict boss where phones are concerned.”

“He's definitely strict about phones,” Ethan said glumly. “Speaking of phones—”

“You don't mind me working here?” Kate cut in smoothly.

Tony exchanged an amused look with his dad.

“Naw, why should I?” Ethan asked.

“Well . . . people might talk about why I'm taking time off from the law firm. Gossip can be ugly. I'd prefer it if you just walked away from that kind of stuff. Don't try to defend me, okay? It's no one's business why I have time off from work.”

“Uh . . . sure,” Ethan said, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “I know it's your business, not anyone else's.”

Kate grinned at him. “Good. And I promise to check my cell on breaks.”

Ethan cleared his throat and looked around uncomfortably. “This isn't because of . . . money, right?”

Kate squeezed his hand. “No! Of course not. I'm perfectly fine, and I'm still getting my salary. This is just like a fun . . . project for me. Didn't I tell you I used to work at Carmina's?”

“I don't remember.”

“Well, I did. I knew how important it was to my parents—that business put food on our table and a roof over our heads, as my dad used to say. They
had
to work hard to keep it prosperous. Problem for me was, I always associated the restaurant with taking care of my brothers. I was sort of in charge of them after school, and I didn't like making them do their homework and stuff. Don't tell Grandma I said that. We often did our homework at the restaurant, when they were all too young to be home by themselves. But now, serving here is just about me and the customers—and doing a good job,” she added, glancing at Tony with sparkling eyes.

He didn't smile, thinking about her being in charge of all those brothers. He mostly remembered them as being in his way, now that he thought about it, but that was a lot of responsibility to put on a girl.

Kate looked past Ethan. “Are we okay, E.? I think one of my tables needs me.”

“Sure, Mom. Have fun. Not sure this actually looks like fun.”

“Work isn't always fun,” Mario pointed out.

Kate nodded in agreement, still watching her table.

Ethan sighed. “Grandpa, you sound like Dad.”

“Well, it
can
be fun if you choose work you enjoy,” Tony said.

Ethan looked around. “Well, you own the place, so you must enjoy it.”

Tony felt Kate watching him.

“Of course I enjoy it. I like being with people, making sure they have a good time. There's something about knowing that people can talk to me while they relax.”

“Sort of like a psychologist,” Mario put in.

“Yeah. And I like knowing that after they leave here, people are relaxed and happy and ready to start fresh the next day.”

Kate gave him another glance before smiling at Ethan and rushing away. Tony wasn't sure what that glance was about—but then they'd separated when bartending had still been just a job that had let him be home with Ethan during the day. She probably didn't know why he'd grown to truly enjoy the hospitality business. She'd never seemed to care. When they were married, she'd been totally focused on school, with every hour she'd been able to spare for Ethan. Tony had understood and been patient. But the feeling that he wasn't respected, that what she was contributing toward their marriage, their future, was so much more important than anything he could do, had worn away at him after a while.

And then he had an interesting realization: Maybe Kate was working at the tavern partly because she regretted that. Maybe she was trying to prove she'd changed.

He suddenly noticed that his dad and Ethan were both looking at him intently.

“What?”

With a glance at his grandpa, Ethan shrugged. “You look sad.”

“Memories, I guess. No point focusing on them, except to learn from them. Let's finish up here and get home.”

A
t the end of her shift, Kate officially met Nicole, one of the evening servers, and had a hard time not staring at the woman's cleavage. Kate guessed that was the point of a low-cut black tank top in wintertime. Did that lead to better tips? Nicole's personality was nothing but cheerful, her black hair held back with bobby pins, emphasizing her freckles and bright green eyes. She showed Kate the side work she should be doing while Nicole herself took over the tables. Kate polished glasses, straightened the wait station, rolled more silverware, emptied trash. Tony called her into his tiny office to fill out employee paperwork and hammer out her work schedule. After handing her menus and beer/wine lists to study, he sent her on her way.

“Ethan has Technology Club until five,” he said. “Mind picking him up?”

“Of course not.”

And then Tony went to talk to the other bartender, Lamar, whom Kate had already been introduced to. She felt dismissed, but what did she expect? She was an employee now. She picked up the chicken wings and salad she'd ordered for dinner, then headed home.

When she arrived, the house was empty but for Barney. She knew her dad was at the restaurant, and that her mom was attending a basketball booster club meeting at Basalt High School. Her mom had been president for two years. Kate had seen files open on the computer: flyers for a fund-raising dinner, the itinerary for an upcoming tournament, a database of club members. Her mom had always been an involved parent. Kate felt a stab of guilt, though she should have been used to it. She didn't live near her son's school, so she couldn't participate in the parent stuff. Hell, with the amount of work she did in the evenings, she didn't know if she'd have time even if she did live close by. Though she admired her mom, Kate wondered if this was why she always looked so tired. Christina was probably one of the older moms involved, since there was a nineteen-year span between Joe and Jim, Kate's oldest brother.

Kate and Barney went for a walk, then she picked up Ethan. When they got home, she settled down at the kitchen island to do her tavern homework while Ethan did his schoolwork.

“It's weird to see you doing work,” he said, munching on a cookie.

Barney lay on his dog bed and gave Ethan soulful eyes.

“I worked at home all the time—you just never saw me, because I finished it up during the week so I could devote every hour to you,” she teased, giving him a light punch on the arm. “And enough with the cookies—I have a big salad and chicken wings keeping warm in the oven.”

Her parents eventually came home, bringing Joe from basketball practice, and the five of them sat down to dinner.

“Guess what,” Ethan said, after they'd all satisfied their initial craving. “Mom got a job today.”

Kate gave her surprised parents a lame smile.

“Did you quit your law firm?” Joe asked with interest.

“No, nothing like that. This is something to pass the time.”

“Did Cal Carpenter need some law advice, Katie?” Tom asked with interest.

“Uh, no, I couldn't work for a different firm.”

“I bet the widows talked you into volunteering,” Christina said brightly.

Kate shook her head.

“She's working for Dad,” Ethan said without regard for how her parents would react.

Tom frowned. “Law advice? Marketing?”

“Not exactly . . .” Kate began.

Christina bit her lip, obviously trying not to smile, but her dimples were giving her away.

“She's a waitress,” Ethan said.

“Server,” Kate corrected.

Her dad blinked at her in surprise and bemusement. “You hate serving,” he pointed out.

“I did, I know, but I was young then, impatient, ready to see the world.” She gave them a cheerful grin.

Christina cocked her head. “And what, now you're old, patient, and sick of the world?”

“Ha ha.” Kate focused on a chicken wing, hoping she'd answered enough questions.

Joe looked between them all with interest, even as he devoured wing after wing.

Christina glanced at Ethan, then back at her daughter. “Really, Kate, is that wise?”

“Won't you two start fighting again?” Tom stated the obvious. “Tony'll be your boss.”

“We never fought much,” Kate insisted, nodding her head meaningfully at Ethan, who was bent over the various platters of chicken wings, choosing between garlic and teriyaki.

“You know we always have a place for you,” Tom continued. “I would have loved to see your pretty face every day.”

Christina said nothing; she just watched Kate too closely.

“Thanks, Dad. But you already do see me, right? You'd probably get sick of me. I didn't ask for a job, honestly. I was whining too much about having nothing to do and angsting over my law woes. Before I knew it, Tony was shoving an apron at me because one of his servers will be out a couple weeks. I accepted the challenge.”