Page 19 of Shadow Strike
“Mm.”Lucy’s eyes drifted toward CB, who passed by them on his way to carry the dirty dishes to the kitchen.He gave them both a lopsided grin.“Is it the sleep, or something else?”
“Mom.”
“I’m just asking.”She was not just asking.She was meddling.“He’s very good with the customers.”
“He is.”
“George looked startled when his beer appeared before he asked for it.”
“George always looks startled.”
“CB said he tipped twenty percent.”Lucy raised her eyebrows.“George has never tipped twenty percent in his life.”
Regan opened her mouth.
“I think we should keep him.”Lucy winked.“For the bar, I mean.”
Regan felt heat climb her neck.“Go balance the ledger, Mom.”
“I balanced it this morning.”
“Balance it again.”
Lucy went, looking entirely too pleased with herself.Regan did not look at CB when he returned.She looked at the middle distance and forced herself to think about inventory.
The rest of the day and evening went just as smoothly.Her neck was sore, but not horrible.Closing time came, and Regan started the sequence.
She was aware of CB watching her, but this part was hers.The glasses, the register, the sweep.The rhythm her father had given her.She needed to do it, and in the way she always did.Having someone watch felt like an interruption of something private.
“You did good today,” she said, not looking up from the register.“Take a break.I’ve got this.”
“I know you do.”
He was still watching her.She briefly met his eyes.Her pulse kicked up again.Dammit.“What?”
“I want to watch the steps to close up.”
He was leaning on the far end of the bar, looking sexy as hell, while her hair was frizzy and her underarms were damp from sweat.“This is my job,” she said.“You won’t need to close.Ever.”
A beat.“Why does it have to be you?”
The question caught her off guard.She avoided his eyes.“It just does.”
He let the silence sit for a moment.Then, he said, “Rule eight.”
Don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re not.
She was annoyed that he was forcing her to defend herself.“That’s not even a real rule.My bar.My rules.”
“You’re big on rules, aren’t you?”
She blinked.“Rules are important.”
“They make you feel in control.”
“Are you playing psychologist?”
His lopsided grin appeared.“Guess Doc is rubbing off on me.”He shoved his hands into his pockets.“I like control, too, but I’ve learned that rules just give the illusion of it.You can’t control people or situations or outcomes, no matter how many rules you impose on them.The only thing you can control is your reaction to those people and situations.”
