Lucas slid the cherry Coke to Willow, then wiped his hands on his towel to keep from wrapping them around Sid’s throat. “Keep your pants on, sweet cheeks. I’m working on them.”
“Order up!” came a voice through the service window.
“That’s your appetizers.” Lucas dropped the stuffed mushrooms and fried cheese sticks on Sid’s tray. “Take those out. I’ll have the drinks ready when you swing back around.”
“Add two Millers and two diets for table fifteen. And don’t call me sweet cheeks again unless you want to lose the ability to reproduce.”
Sid stomped off and he turned back to his new friend. “She’s a breath of fresh air, isn’t she? Where were we?”
Willow stared back, wide-eyed. “She must really like you. Nobody would ever call Sid a name like that and live to tell the tale.”
“I’m pretty sure she hates me, but I’m not taking it personally.” Trying not to anyway. “So where do you tend bar?”
“O’Hagan’s,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “You two know each other well?”
“Who, me and Sid?” He shrugged. “Not really. I mean I’ve known her since high school, but we never ran in the same circles. How long have you been on Anchor?”
“Little less than a year.” Willow took a drink, then glanced over her shoulder again. She seemed oddly nervous about something. Before he could ask, she said, “Sid’s coming back.”
Maybe there was something up between the two women. Sid was throwing so much animosity his way, he couldn’t tell if some of the current irritation might be aimed at the tall brunette or not.
“You brewing the damn beers back there?” Sid asked. “What the hell?”
“Relax. I just have to pop the tops off the Millers and you’re good to go.” Lucas snagged two bottles from the next beer cooler down, then caught a look between the ladies on his way back.
“Dude,” Willow was saying, “you should have told me.”
“Tell you what?” Sid replied, piling the drinks on her tray. Lucas took his time with the bottle caps, pretending he wasn’t listening. “I bet I could outearn him in tips so he’s holding up my orders on purpose.” Raising her voice, she added, “You’d suck as a PI, Dempsey. Get your ass down here and give me those beers.”
“You two have a bet going?” Will asked.
Lucas put the beers on the tray. “Her idea. Fifty bucks she could earn more than I can.”
“A hundred.”
“Right, a hundred.” Lucas shot Will his best smile. “At this rate she’ll be lucky if she makes the fifty.”
The look Sid sent his way should have put him on life support. “Shift’s not over yet, fancy pants.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
“I know how you can win,” Will said.
Sid and Lucas gave her their full attention. Sid asked first. “You talking to me or him?”
Will snorted. “As if I’d help him.” He raised a brow and she added, “You’re cute and all, but she’s my friend.”
“I didn’t realize the banshee had any friends.”
“You’re lucky there’s a bar between us.” Sid dropped an order pad into her apron pocket and leaned toward Will. “So how?”
“Easy,” Will shrugged. “Take off your shirt.”
“Take off my what?” Sid blinked, certain she’d heard wrong.
“I’ll second that suggestion,” Lucas said, his solid brows wiggling over dancing green eyes.
“Shut up, preppy.”
“You’re wearing a tank underneath there, right?” Will said. “I can see the white at the bottom.”
Sid tugged at the hem of her tee. “I always wear a tank. So?”
Will rolled her eyes. “So take off that T-shirt that’s two sizes too big and I guarantee your tips will triple.”
“You’re crazy. I’m not stripping just to win a bet.”
“No one’s suggesting you go topless.” Will backed off her stool. “That night you got dressed up at O’Hagan’s got me more tips in one night than I normally make in a weekend. Might as well use those curves to help yourself.
“There are curves under there?” Lucas tossed a bar rag over his shoulder. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Something took flight in Sid’s gut and an unfamiliar heat shot up from her toes. She couldn’t fight the blush so she reached for something familiar to cover. Anger.
“What happened to this being a family restaurant, huh? A few hours ago you were worried this shirt would offend someone. Now you want me to take it off.”
“Hey,” he said, throwing up his hands, “if you’re ashamed of whatever you keep under those manly clothes, just keep the shirt on.”
Lucas shoved a chilled glass under the beer tap but the sideways look he gave her said he knew exactly what he was doing. Damn him.
“Fine.” She turned on Will. “But if this doesn’t work, I’m coming after you.”
“It’ll work. Just don’t break any noses when guys start hitting on you.” Will turned to Lucas. “Thanks for the drink, Charming. I’d apologize for the killing you’re about to receive, but I have a feeling you’ll thank me later.”
With a wink she was gone, leaving Sid to wonder what the hell that meant.
“You’ve got customers waiting.” Lucas poured Will’s soda down the sink and dropped the glass in the strainer. “If you’re going to strip, get it over with and get back on the floor.”
Maybe she could stuff her shirt down his throat. “I’ll be right back.”
Sid ducked into the kitchen and headed for the office in the back. She took three deep breaths and recalled the memory of that night at O’Hagan’s when Beth had cleaned her up. Or girlified her, as Joe had deemed it. She could do this. What was the big deal?
Before losing her nerve, she ripped the black tee over her head and dropped it on the chair. Too bad the office didn’t have a mirror. No way would she run to the bathroom to check her reflection. A quick glance down revealed no obvious stains, and the light pink of her bra didn’t show through. Much.
Another deep breath. Time to pull in some tips.
Sid shot for casual as she cruised through the kitchen. As she rounded the end of the counter, she heard Chip holler and turned to see him stick his thumb in his mouth.
“You all right?”
“Uh muh,” he nodded, eyes wide and cheeks red.
“Did you cut yourself?”
“Gob distwacted.”
Sid nodded. “Um, okay.” Tucking a stray lock behind her ear, she stepped toward the kitchen doorway, only to hear a pan drop behind her. Turning, she found Flynn staring as if he’d seen a ghost. “You didn’t cut yourself too, did you?”
Flynn’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he grabbed a frying pan off the floor. He had to reach for it three times before catching the handle, since his eyes stayed on Sid.
“What?” she asked, throwing a hand on her hip.
“It’s just …” Flynn shook his head and continued to stare.
“Forget it,” Sid said, preferring the chaos on the floor to that in the kitchen. Maybe the guys were sneaking the liquor. She’d have to ask Patty if they did that. Didn’t seem like a good idea while working around fire and sharp objects.
She exited the kitchen to find one of the other waitresses at the side of the bar sorting her tickets. Tall and blonde with the body of a devout surfer and the tan to match, Daisy stood more than a head above Sid, but then everyone beat Sid in height. Her increased attitude made up for being vertically challenged.
Sid noticed her tray was empty.
“Where are my drinks?”
“Lucas had me deliver them. Natives were getting restless.” Daisy looked up. “I thought you were …”
“Thought I was what?”
“On a break.” Daisy stuffed the tickets in her apron and pulled a tray from beneath her arm. “I’m glad Mitch isn’t working today.”
Mitch being Daisy’s boyfriend, it seemed as if she’d have wanted him around. The waitress disappeared into the crowd without another word, leaving the mystery hanging. Sid shrugged and reached for her tray.
“Weird.”
Lucas was at the other end of the bar serving customers. She went back to the floor without the satisfaction of ripping his head off for making her look bad. Natives getting restless. Whatever. Charging over to the windows, she checked on the table where Daisy had delivered the drinks.
“Sorry for the holdup, folks. Did everyone get what they wanted?”
Two women occupied the left bench while two guys in ball caps held down the right. The guy on the end wore his hat backwards and his chin looked like the home of a Chia Pet. More clean-cut, guy two looked to be hiding a unibrow under his low-pulled cap, with sunglasses perched over the bill.
They looked the type to chest bump while watching football. Both stared at Sid in silence, while the woman across from Chia smacked her neighbor, who looked up from sipping her drink. The smackee didn’t look a day over nineteen. Sid would have carded her if she’d asked for anything stronger than soda.
Young thing’s straw danced between cubes as she dropped her glass to the table. Chia and shades sunk into their seats like someone had let the air out of the cushions. “We’ve got everything we could ask for now,” said one of the men. A thud came from under the table. “Ow!”
“Okay then.” Either these guys were lightweights who got a buzz off half a glass, or something weird was going around this restaurant. “Ready to place your order?”
Frat boys looked smacked dumb, so she turned to the women. Chia’s girl spoke up. “We’re ready.”
Sid waited, pen poised. Another thud and the guy closest to the window jerked upright. “We’ll each have the Dempsey All American with fries on the side for her,” he waved a hand toward the woman sitting across from him, “and onion rings for me.”
Sid dropped her hands to her hips. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” the woman answered for him.
“And he ordered for you like that? Dude. You should kick him again.”
“Hey.”
“I should.” Another thud.
“Stop that, damn it.”
Sid tsked. “Not the way to talk to a lady.” She turned to the other man. “I bet you can do better. What will it be, scruffy?”
He scooted his legs outside the booth before ordering. “Meagan will have the grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side and I’ll take the cheeseburger.” Girlfriend lifted a brow and he added, “Please.”
“That’s the way to do it. Two All Americans, fries and onion rings, grilled chicken salad, dressing on the side.” She lifted her pen. “What kind of dressing?”
“Ranch.”
“Got it.” Sid pointed the pen at Scruffy. “And you’re the cheeseburger. Fries good with that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then we’re all set.” Collecting the menus, Sid leaned close to the brunette. “Just my observation, but you two could do better.”
The woman’s blue eyes widened, then she grinned.
Before the first customers had rolled in, Daisy told Sid that if the female customers were happy, then everybody’s happy. Since the frat boys didn’t look like big tippers, this table seemed like the right place to test that strategy.
“I’ll put the orders in, then come check on you for refills.” Sid tucked the menus under her arm and moved to the next table over. This one held a family of four—mom, dad, boy, and girl—but the mom and girl had disappeared. “How we doing over here? Are the ladies going to need refills?”
A towheaded boy, maybe six years old, looked up from the Matchbox car he’d been pushing around his plate. When he caught sight of Sid, the car zoomed off the table. “You look like the ladies on daddy’s secret calendar.”
Daddy choked on his tongue and covered the little guy’s mouth. Thanks to a receding hairline, the blush covered his entire head. “Yes, we’ll take drinks all around if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind at all.” Sid winked at the little boy. “That’s not a dog calendar, is it?”
Munchkin shook his head.
“Good. Be right back with the drinks.”
Weaving through the tables, she reached the bar and found Lucas back at her end filling a beer from the tap. “You shouldn’t have sent Daisy out with those drinks. I wasn’t gone that long.”
Lucas looked up and froze, the beer still pouring.
“Not you, too,” she said. “Did someone spray brain fog in here while I was back in the office?”
“You took your shirt off.” The beer flowed.
“That is why I went back there.”
Beer reached the top of the glass and spilled over, drenching his hand. “Shit.” Lucas cut off the tap and set the glass in the sink. Pulling the rag off his shoulder, he wiped his hands. “You look … different.”
Sid looked down. Nothing looked different from that angle. “Did I grow a third eye?”
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