Page 34 of Crushing Clover

Lucky’s house—or his parents’ house—was a brick-and-siding back-split in a pretty neighborhood. The fact that his parents were still married blew my mind.

“After seeing Warren’s house, you were probably expecting my parents to have money.”

“When you grew up the way I did, this is money.”

He punched a code on the keypad, not even trying to hide it from me. Who used their address as their door code?

We went in, and Lucky didn’t even pause in the doorway to announce us.

“Mom, I’m here to grab some clothes,” he called.

Mom? So weird. How had these guys not popped into the world as fully formed adults?

A woman in her early fifties emerged from what looked like the dining room. She had a kind face, and a messy bun held in place with a pencil. Her smile fell away as she saw me.

“Arabella. This is a surprise.”

Lucky laughed. “No, Mom. This is our friend Clover. She’s staying with us for a while.”

Oh shit. He’d told her my real name, instead of the fake one we’d been using.

Well, it was too late now.

She studied me, and some of the tension in her face relaxed. Her eyes were the same warm yellowish-gold as Lucky’s. “Cloning is illegal, kiddo.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Shit. Did we forget to give you that talk?”

“Don’t worry. No unethical scientific experimentation was involved. Scout’s honor.”

“Good, good.” His mother grinned, making the resemblance between them even more apparent. “We don’t have bail money for you right now.”

“Still saving up from the last time?”

“That’s not even funny, Lucky Hale Graves.”

“Whoa, the dreaded middle name. You’re in trooouble ,” I couldn’t help but say. It was fascinating watching a regular family interact in a regular family way. I’d only seen shit like this on TV.

Lucky’s mom turned to me and chuckled. “So, you’re the new girlfriend?” She looped her arm through mine, and we followed after Lucky. “I’m Willa, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m a burden, not a girlfriend.”

“I’m sure you’re not a burden or they would have thrown you out by now. It’s good you’re staying with them. That house needs a woman.”

We caught up to Lucky in a bedroom that had been painted a dark purple. It was a beautiful color, but not one I would have guessed someone would choose for their teenage son’s room.

Lucky was rummaging in the closet, so I took the opportunity to check out the posters that still adorned the wall—different music groups I was unfamiliar with, and a poster from Penny Dreadful .

“What are you looking for?” Willa asked him.

Soccer trophies were lined up on his bookcase, along with a shit ton of books shoved in every which way.

“Do we still have my clothes from middle school?”

“Considering my organizational skills, they’re probably still at the back of your closet.” She squeezed in beside him and started digging through the opposite end of the closet. “What do you need clothing that small for?”

“For Clover. One of the servers quit on us last minute and she’s going to fill in.”

Willa arched a brow. “She looks too mainstream to work at Cygnet.”

“She’ll look very different in black.” He sorted through more shirts. “Dad still at work?”

“Nah, I’ve got him gagged and tied to our bed. We weren’t expecting company.” She winked at him, but he missed it.

“Mom, no sex jokes in front of new people, please.”

“Fine.” She sighed theatrically. “I’ll behave.”

“Thank god we’re safe until the next time you come over,” Lucky grumbled over his shoulder at me.

“It’s good for children to see that their parents still love each other,” Willa pointed out.

“Love is one thing. Grabbing each other’s asses is something else entirely.”

“I see enough of that between you and Rushton. I’m not going to pretend I’m a nun when I don’t expect you to pretend you’re a monk.” She fished out a garment bag from the back of the closet.

“It’s going to need ironing at the very least.” She unzipped the bag and pulled out a very nice black suit. “Oh. It’s not too bad.”

“Wow, that’s beautiful.”

“Lucky’s grandmother made his suit by hand. She was a seamstress.” She crossed herself. “God rest her soul.”

“Quit doing that. We’re not Catholic, and Grandma’s not dead.”

“Shh. I’m trying to manifest.” She laughed, and he punched her arm, but gently.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”

“I just got out of a meeting, and I was going to get a coffee. Do you guys want coffee?” She sauntered out of his room and headed back down the hall.

“No thanks. We have to go.”

I tried on the suit, finding the pants a bit too loose at the waist, and the black dress shirt a perfect fit. He put a belt on me, then rolled up the sleeves, before sorting through a box of accessories. I ended up with a leather bracelet and a stainless necklace that went with my silver collar.

“I like the purple walls.”

He grinned. “My parents let me decorate. I went through a vampire phase I never quite got over.”

A pair of his old wingtip shoes fit well enough.

I tried putting my hair up but made a mess of it.

“Not like that. Like this,” he said, putting it up and turning me to face the mirror. He was right. It was different than the way I’d done it.

He put his face next to mine in the mirror.

“You look sexy.”

“Will I fit in as a server tonight?”

“We’re going to put some black eyeliner on you, too, but it will still depend on Saint.”

After a cursory but affectionate leave-taking from his mother, Lucky tossed me back in his truck and brought me to Cygnet.

I could hear the timbre of Saint’s voice from the kitchen.

I expected him to be shouting and swearing at the kitchen staff, but he and Rush were directing matter-of-factly as they worked.

The two of them seemed to have things organized so they weren’t stepping on each other’s toes.

The whole place was spotless, and the staff were fast and efficient.

Lucky ran through the list of the specials for tonight.

Saint caught sight of me and paused in his work, taking me in. He hissed and snatched his hand back from a pot that looked hot.

“Are you kidding me?” Saint grumbled, as he stirred the dish he’d momentarily forgotten about. “Is it take your kid to work day?”

“She’s a kid?” One of the other servers looked scandalized.

“No, she’s not a kid. This is Kate,” Lucky said. “We’re short a server, so she’s agreed to fill in for tonight.”

The other servers greeted me with quiet interest.

“If you need back-up, or if you have questions, come to me, or any of the other servers who are in your line of sight. Try not to bellow across the room. It ruins the ambiance.”

One of the servers got a slap on the back and laughed to himself good-naturedly. “I panicked that night, man.”

“Suzanne has a way of making people panic,” one of the others commiserated.

“In a perfect world, we would have you shadow for at least a few days, but with Marty pulling a disappearing act, it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

“Maybe they’ll have mercy on you.”

“Try to flirt a little,” the one called Kaden said on the sly, as he was walking by me. “You’ll get better tips.”

“And no fucking the patrons, or Saint will fire your ass.”

My first table was filled with older ladies who were richly dressed and wore strong perfume. They were the kind of women I’d expect to see at a country club, not here.

“Oh, a new face!” a woman declared as I approached the table, trying not to seem hesitant. I’d only ever served men who wanted alcohol and wings, and I clutched my little notebook, even though I knew none of the others needed one.

“Hello, I’m Kate. I’ll be your server tonight,” I tried to modulate my voice so I sounded calm and aloof, like the other servers, instead of like a nervous wreck. “Can I start you off with drinks?”

“Are you old enough to serve drinks, Kate?” one of the other women demanded, her sharp blue eyes studying me.

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

I shook my head not sure what to say.

She dug through her bag and pulled out a business card. “My grandson, Alexander, might be perfect for you. I had these little cards made with his socials.”

“Oh Alina, you’re terrible! You didn’t get cards made.” The entire group started to laugh. Was I supposed to interrupt and gain control of the situation, or was I supposed to stand here looking interested? Should I leave and go to another table for now?

“Alina, you can’t set up every server with your grandson,” Lucky said from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh, Lucky, I don’t mean any harm.” She took Lucky’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“If you make Kate’s job too difficult, she’s going to run out of here screaming, and we’re going to be short a server again.”

“No! Who left?”

Lucky turned the conversation away from employee information, but still gossiped with them for a few minutes, flirting shamelessly, before they finally settled down and gave me their order.

When things were going more smoothly, Lucky moved away to go and check on the others.

I should have known he wouldn’t throw me to the wolves.

In all the time I’d worked at the club, I’d never thought about the camaraderie there, or how nice it was to feel useful. Being stuck in Cygnet’s office every night, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home from work, sucked.

Serving food at a nice restaurant, instead of drinks at a strip club, was a definite shift for me. People were patient and kind, and many of them seemed to be regulars. The other servers were helpful, and it was a relief that there didn’t seem to be any real drama.

The guys were exacting, but the staff respected them.

As much as Saint had complained about Lucky talking to patrons too much, it was obvious that everyone loved him, and he had a memory like a computer.

The information went in, and he didn’t forget.

It was strange seeing him in his element, where he was sure of himself and in charge, instead of a chaos demon.

The other servers looked to him for direction when they needed it, but he kept everything organized and moving.

The tips were fantastic, and it only took me a few minutes to familiarize myself with their point-of-sale system. Lucky checked in with me several times but didn’t micromanage. Of course, I fucked up a couple of orders, but it went well enough.

“How did that go?” Rush asked after close, once all the tables were cleaned, the condiments were refilled, and we were hanging around the kitchen with a few stragglers.

“She kicked ass out there,” Kara, one of the other servers, cut in. “I never would have guessed tonight was her first night here.”

I flushed at the compliment.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s perfect,” Saint grumbled, scrubbing his hands in the sink.

“Don’t mind the grump,” she assured me. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Bye, Kara,” Lucky said as she grabbed her coat. “You kicked ass tonight, too.”

“Thanks boss!” The door banged closed behind her a few moments later, leaving me standing in the kitchen with the guys, Ran, and a dishwasher named Angel.

“Can I speak to you in the office for a moment please, Kate,” Saint asked with saccharine politeness.

“No fraternizing with the help, boss,” Ran called after us as he headed down the hallway. “It’s against company policy!”

Exhausted, I couldn’t help but laugh.

When we reached the office, Saint urged me through the door and shut it behind us.

“Is everything okay?” I asked immediately, unable to handle the suspense.

“You did a really good job tonight. You pulled our asses out of the fire,” he admitted.

“You’re welcome.” He hadn’t exactly said thank you, but it was probably the closest he was ever going to get.

“I know it probably feels good to be out in public doing something useful, and not, you know, sex-related.” He’d stumbled over what he was saying.

Trying not to insult me? That was a first. “You looked like you were having fun out there, but if anyone found out, we would all be in deep shit. I can’t let you do this on a regular basis. ”

“You can’t let me work in the restaurant for free? Oh no. Whatever shall I do?”

He sighed. “It must suck—that’s all I’m saying. You worked and went to school before you ended up with us. I’m sure it’s weird for you to spend most of your time fucking instead of pursuing your own ambitions, but I can’t pretend you’re some regular girl and let you wander around unsupervised.”

What was that in his tone? Regret? That wasn’t something I’d expected from him, but it was kind of nice. It felt like he was seeing me as a person for the first time. Maybe he’d never really thought of me as useful or competent before.

Maybe even Saint could grow as a person.

“Understood.”

“It’s a shame, you know?” he said roughly. “You might’ve worked out.”

“As a server for your fancy restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re confusing me. When are you going to be mean again?”

“Don’t get used to compliments, bootlicker.”

“Yes, Saint.”

He smiled at me—actually smiled—and gave his head a shake as he walked out the door, locking it behind him. Feet aching in my borrowed shoes, I sank down on the couch to wait for them to finish closing.

I floated on the high of his genuine smile.

Would I ever get to see it again?