Read Through Fire (Portland, ME #3) Online

Authors: Freya Barker

Tags: #sex trade, #Human trafficking, #Maine, #FBI, #drama

Through Fire (Portland, ME #3) (2 page)

BOOK: Through Fire (Portland, ME #3)
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“Y
o, Ruby! Two drafts, please?”

I turn around from the sink where I was rinsing glasses to find a familiar face. Ike is Viv’s husband and always sits at the far end of the bar when he comes in. But the order came from the man sitting beside him. Tim. I don’t think I ever caught his last name, not that it matters, since other than putting in his drink order occasionally on the Wednesdays he comes in, he doesn’t pay me much attention. That’s fine with me. It’s Ike that smiles and thanks me when I drop the drafts on the coasters in front of them, taking away their empties. I give him a little smile back but ignore the large man beside him.

Every Wednesday he’s here, shooting the shit with Viv’s man. They’ve been friends for years, from what I picked up. When I first started here, he would come in with whole group of men. I later learned they all play baseball together. Gunnar and Ike, too. Apparently the season is over because the last few times I’ve only seen this guy. Did I mention he’s huge? Big, meaty, and blond. Not fat, mind you, just...big all over. Big chest, big hands, and big voice.

It carries, his voice does. It does now too, which is why I can clearly hear him behind me. “I don’t think Betty Boop likes me much.”

Betty Boop. That’s what I’ve heard him call me before. I know what he means, I’m not skinny. I’m not even slim. I have curves that have curves of their own and I know it. I put them there on purpose, and I don’t give a damn if he makes fun of me.

“Asshole.” I hear Ike respond as I dunk their empties in the sink for a wash. “She’s got a name. Try not to be such a dick, and maybe she’ll give you one of those sweet smiles one of these days.”

I dip my head down so my hair covers my smiling face. Ike is nice. Not creepy nice, but nice in a kind way. Almost brotherly, although I really have nothing to compare it to, since I never had a brother but if I did; I would want him to be like Ike, or maybe Gunnar or Dino. Dino scares me a little, though. He’s angry a lot. He also sometimes says things that make me wonder if he knows me from before. That would be really bad.

“Ruby. Kitchen.” Dino’s head pokes around the doorway before disappearing.

I manage to get Matt’s attention, yapping on the other side of the bar with one of the regulars. I point to the doorway, which he seems to understand, judging by the chin lift. Viv is clearing the tables, now that the dinner crowd has thinned out, which means Dino is in the kitchen alone. Quickly wiping my hands on a towel, I walk down the hallway leading to the kitchen: Dino’s kingdom. Well, unless either Viv or Syd, Gunnar’s wife, are cooking, which they regularly do to give him a break. When I walk in, I find him sitting at the large kitchen table, a pile of notes in front of him.

“Sit,” he says curtly. I don’t hesitate pulling out a chair and sitting down, my hands folded in my lap. If there is one thing I know, it’s how to follow orders.

“Ruby...” His voice is much gentler now, and I lift my eyes to find his curious gaze on my neatly folded hands. “I’ve been a bear. Sorry. Shit’s going on at home...I’m just...” He closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it. His eyes back on me, he takes in a deep breath before he goes on. “You know Syd had her baby and had some complications, which is why Gunnar hasn’t been around much either. He’s looking after them at home. Viv’s been busy taking up Gunnar’s slack, and with Ike not around to maybe lend a hand, she doesn’t have time for the kitchen. So I’m turning to you.”

A sick feeling sprouts in the pit of my stomach. Kitchen? Me?

“I need a couple of days this weekend to sort out some personal stuff. I need you to run the kitchen. I have every recipe written out. Viv will be around if you have questions, and I’ll leave you my number. I’ve precooked some of the stews and soups, but other stuff needs to be made the day of. It’s really not hard.” He says the last staring into my panicked face.

“I...I don’t know,” I manage to stutter. “I don’t do too well in the kitchen. Maybe Matt?”

“Please, Ruby. Matt is a disaster in here, but he can hustle the work of two out there. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

The pleading look on the big man’s face goes a long way to soothing his last words. Desperation made him turn to me. I should be used to that, and yet it stings. But only a little. “Of course,” I reply quickly, watching the instant relief wash over his expression. I’ll manage.

Madre de dios!

CHAPTER TWO

T
im

“This is where you’re taking me?”

Brenda’s nasal whine is already getting on my nerves as I push open the door to The Skipper. She’d been fishing for a date for weeks. Ever since we met at a project meeting for a few new proposed hotels going up in the Old Port area. Granted, I hadn’t missed the tall, stacked blonde, who’d given an expert presentation for one of the hotels, but had dismissed her as too young. Didn’t seem to bother her much, though, she was persistent.

Oh all right, I didn’t really work all that hard at avoiding her. She caught me in the parking lot on Wednesday. I’d just gotten in my car, ready to head out for my weekly beer with Ike, when she cornered me, leaning into the car with her tits just about rolling out of her low cut top. What can I say? I’m a guy with a serious dry spell going. A good half year, if not more. “Dinner Friday?” had come tumbling out of my mouth before I could check it.

Brenda took about two seconds to pull out a business card, her address and cell number already scribbled on the back. She came prepared. “I can be ready at six,” she hummed in a come-hither way that instantly had me doubting my sanity.

When I told Ike about my dilemma that night, he suggested I bring her here, to The Skipper. He said that if she didn’t fit in, it would likely show within the first five minutes. I think she broke the record, complaining before we even stepped inside. 

But here we are. I ignore her comment and with a hand on her elbow, lead her to my regular spot. The far side of the bar where Viv is holding court. The place is filling up.

“Sorry,” Viv smiles apologetically, trying hard not to make a face when she spots my date. “Dino is off and we’re struggling to keep up,” she adds.

“No worries,” I assure her. “We’ll wait.” I stay standing, minding my manners while I wait for Brenda to take a seat, but she has other plans. With a flair of drama, she starts digging through her purse until she comes up with a packet of wet wipes. I look on in stunned amazement as she starts wiping down the seat of her barstool, before she takes a fresh wipe and tackles the bar in front of us. I catch Viv’s eye and her eyebrows shoot straight up to her hairline. I’m a big fucking idiot. I can read it all over Viv’s face. With a roll of her eyes, she turns her attention to Arnie, a regular sitting at the other end of the bar.

Apparently deeming the place sanitary enough to finally plant her ass on the stool, Brenda starts snapping her fingers at Viv. I quickly grab her wrist and lower her hand as I take the seat beside her. “What’s with the service here?” she says out loud instead.

“Chill,” I say, shocking her as her eyes go large as saucers and her mouth falls open in disbelief. “Now, what can I get you?”

“Chardonnay,” she finally manages.

I get Viv’s attention easily—the minx, I’m sure she was purposely ignoring Brenda—and place our drink order. “What’s the special?” I ask her when she hands over some menus.

“That would be a good choice. Dino is off for the weekend, but he made a hearty stew before he left.” She leans over the bar and says a bit quieter, “He asked Ruby to take kitchen duty, and from what I can tell, it’s not her forté. She’s determined, I’ll say that for her.”

“Special it is,” I confirm, handing back the menu without opening it.

Viv turns to Brenda. “And what can I get you? Would you like the special as well?”

The woman visibly shivers at the suggestion. “I’ll have a Caesar salad. Dressing on the side.” She barely looks at Viv as she hands back the menu. No thanks, no nothing. This’ll be the fastest date ever, because the moment she’s had her meal, I’m driving the chick home. Don’t have time for that kind of high maintenance.

Viv is obviously suppressing a smile as she turns to give the kitchen our order, but almost bumps into Ruby, who is just coming through the door with a tray and two plates. I can’t quite make out what Viv tells her as she takes the tray from her hands, but I do notice the stress on the smaller woman’s face as she shakes her head vehemently. Viv turns around and without another word, goes to deliver the order.

“Seriously,” the nose-talker beside me stage whispers. “Where do they find help like that?”

I slowly turn my attention to her. “Vivian is the manager and Gunnar is the owner. Both are very close friends of mine,” I bite off, no longer bothering to check my irritation.

Brenda wisely snaps her mouth shut and doesn’t say a thing when Viv sets a draft in front of me. Not even when Viv places an empty wine glass in front of her, unscrews the top from the bottle, and sloshes a good serving of wine, before walking toward Arnie at the other side of the bar again. I’m fighting to keep a straight face and lift my glass to take a swig. This girl is going home. Alone.

My eyes are drawn to the doorway, where Ruby stands, holding another tray and looking furtively in my direction. I’m guessing that’s our food. I’m sure she’d prefer Viv to serve our order, but she is serving customers at the other side. Her shoulders pulled up, almost touching her ears, the woman tentatively approaches. She balances the tray on the edge of the bar and slides a plate in front of Brenda and a bowl of fragrant stew in front of me. A small plate with a hunk of fresh bread appears beside it. Her eyes never come up as she turns and heads for the doorway.

“What the hell is this?”

I turn to my regrettable date, who is staring in abject horror at her plate. “What?”

“There is onion in my Caesar salad. Who puts onion in a Caesar salad? I can’t eat this,” she whines and suddenly I’m fed up.

“Then don’t,” I snap at her, taking a healthy bite of my excellent stew. Damn lettuce munchers. I feel her eyes burning a hole in me. With a sigh I put my spoon down and turn to face her. “Look, this was obviously not one of my best ideas. Give me a minute and I’ll drive you home.”

“Home?” she asks incredulously, already sliding off her stool.

“Home,” I confirm. “Just let me take care of the bill.” I look up to find Viv’s amused eyes on me. Fucking Viv. I gesture for the bill and she waves it off, her hands full with drink orders.

Brenda is already halfway to the door when I hear a crash followed by a muffled cry coming from the kitchen. Having had some unwanted excitement here before, I motion to Viv to stay put, just in case. With one last look at my date, I make my way to the back.

Ruby is on the far side of the kitchen, on the floor by the stove on all fours, trying to scoop the contents back into the large pot she obviously dropped. I stop in my tracks at the sight of her round, ample ass sticking up, the air in my lungs suddenly expelling in a
whoosh
. Soft muttering reaches my ears and gets me moving.

“Here, let me,” I offer, when she tries to scramble up but slips in the slick mess on the floor. I grab her arm and haul her off the floor, ignoring her protests. Some of her hair has come loose from the elastic band holding it back and curtains her downturned face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, not elaborating and appearing to turn in on herself. She’s holding her right arm tight to her body.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m okay,” she mumbles, but I’m not buying it. Reaching out I gently pull her arm toward me. A large red mark is swelling up from her skin.

“You burned yourself. Let’s get some cold water on you.” Holding her arm out, I turn her in front of me and shuffle her to the sink, trying hard to ignore the ripe ass mesmerizing me just moments earlier, rubbing against my crotch. I just have her forearm under the cold water when Matt comes flying in.

“Ruby, I need...” He comes to a stop in the middle of the kitchen, taking in the mess. “What the hell happened?”

“Sorry,” she mumbles again, without turning around.

“No worries,” he says easily, looking from Ruby, who is mostly hidden by my body, to me. “I just need the order for table three when you have a minute. I’ll leave you guys to it.” With a smirk on his face he walks out.

R
uby

I can’t believe I did that. Burn myself and drop the pan. Just my luck to have Tim come storming in. The one man who has made ignoring me an art.
Pinche estúpida!

“Are you calling me names?” I can feel the rumble of his voice against my hair as he bends his big body over me, forcing my arm under the cold water. I said that out loud?

“No, no—Me. I’m the idiot,” I hurry to explain, as I feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up my neck. I pull my arm from his hold and twist around, forcing him to take a step back. “I have to get the order for table three.” I take one step toward the stove when he holds me back by the shoulders.

“You sit down for a minute. I’ll get it.”

“But...” My protest is futile as he forces me down onto the nearest kitchen chair.

BOOK: Through Fire (Portland, ME #3)
4.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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