Page 14 of Faded Gray Lines

Moments of silence passed before he grinned. “I’ll give him a call and set it up while you get ready. However, until we get this straightened out, the only two places I want you driving to are here and Caliente.”

“But—”

He held up a hand, cutting me off. “I’m not trying to be a hard-ass, Leighton. I just want you somewhere safe.”

I couldn’t help myself. “And that’s a bar?”

He kissed the top of my head before disappearing down the hallway. “Trust me.”

That was the whole problem. I didn’t.

* * *

The smell of oily corn chips and stale beer greeted me as I tore through the back door of Caliente Cantina. Brody called my new boss only to be informed he’d be occupied for most of the day, but I could train with his head waitress, Amanda. I wasn’t particularly interested in training or Amanda or doing anything but getting in Emilio’s face, but what choice did I have?

“You’re late. Prep work started an hour ago, new girl.” A tall man in a white apron turned away from a cutting board and pointed the biggest knife I’d ever seen at me.

Fuck this.

Spinning around, I ran toward the back door.

“Whoa, slow down, girl. Where’s the fire?” I glanced over my shoulder as a woman with short brown hair and a nose ring stuck her head out of a supply closet, her arms full of lined red chip baskets.

My whole life is one big fire.

I shook my head. “No fire, I’m just leaving.” This was a bad idea from the start. I should’ve never listened to Alex and baited Brody into getting me hired.

Jesus, I had to get out of this place.

“Wait,” she called out, stepping out of the closet. “Leighton Harcourt? Is that you?”

I had no idea if I was being tested or just plain punished—maybe both. All I knew was when I woke up this morning, the last person I expected to run into was one of my best friends from elementary school.

“Amanda Nicholson?”

I wasn’t a hugger. A smile or a firm handshake would’ve sufficed, so her brawling tackle took me off guard, knocking us both backward and sending the chip baskets flying.

“Yes, it’s me! I can’t believe it’s really you.” Pulling away, she stretched her arms out and squeezed my shoulders. “Damn, you haven’t changed a bit. How are you?”

Determined not to let my mask slip, I forced myself to hug her back. She babbled on about what she’d been up to since graduation, but I barely heard a word she said. Mustering my most convincing smile, I motioned toward the main part of the cantina. “I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. I’m your new trainee. Where do I start?”

She slowly scanned my plain blue knit shirt and faded jeans. “Well, first you need to change.” She disappeared into the supply closet, and I avoided the probing stares of the kitchen staff until she returned, shoving two pieces of material in my hands. “This should fit.”

“I’m not wearing this.” I held up the tiny black tank top and cut-off jean shorts with my index fingers and thumbs like they’d just been peeled off a dead hooker.

“Standard uniform,” she said, staring at it with the same disgust.

“I’m just...” I swallowed hard. “I’m kind of modest, and this is, well—”

“Slutty?” She grinned and handed me a waist apron from a hook next to the timeclock. “Yeah, that’s by design. It’s trashy, but what are you going do when your boss is a perv, right?”

I held back a groan. “I suppose I have no choice. I don’t want to piss him off on my first day.”

I’ll take care of that when I railroad his ass to prison.

After changing into the uniform from hell, I wrapped the apron around my hips and followed Amanda into the hallway leading to the main bar area. The first window I passed by set my blood boiling. I was being watched, and not covertly either. The DEA guard dog’s dark sedan sat in a parking lot across from the cantina. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It wasn’t their first lapse in judgment. They’d followed me to work, and with Brody watching me like a hawk, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed. I’d inform the trio from hell that their operation was being compromised by their own stupidity, but Alex hadn’t found it necessary to make contact since shipping me off.

Amanda’s chirpy voice called my name, and I offered her a forced smile while making my way toward the bar. The sooner I gave the DEA what they wanted, the sooner everyone I loved would be safe.