She had to yank to get free. "Mister, I'm just not interested."
Of course she was, he thought, sending her a smile he knew was dazzling.
He'd paid two grand to get his teeth bonded, hadn't he? "The hard-to-get
routine always turns me on."
Grace decided he wasn't worth even a single disgusted sigh. "We're
closing in fifteen; you're going to need to settle your tab."
"Okay, okay, don't get bitchy." He smiled widely and pulled out a money
clip thick with bills. He always salted it with a couple of twenties on
the outside, then filled it with singles. "You figure what I owe, then
we'lla negotiate your tip."
Sometimes, Grace decided, it was best to keep your mouth firmly shut.
What wanted to come out was vicious enough to get her fired. So she
walked away and took her empties to the bar.
"He giving you trouble, Grace?"
She smiled weakly at Steve. It was just the two of them working now. The
other waitress had clocked out at midnight, claiming a migraine. Since
she'd been pale as a ghost, Grace had shooed her out and agreed to
cover.
"He's just another of those gifts to womankind. Nothing to worry about."
"If he's not gone by closing, I'll wait until you're locked in your car
and headed home."
She made a noncommittal humming noise. She hadn't mentioned her lack of
transportation because she knew Steve would insist on driving her home.
He lived twenty minutes away, in the opposite direction. And had a
pregnant wife waiting for him.
She cashed out tables, cleared them, and noted with relief that her
problem customer finally rose to leave. He paid his $18.83 bar bill with
cash, leaving $20 on the table. Though he'd managed to monopolize most
of her time and attention for the past three hours, Grace was too tired
to be annoyed at the pitiful tip.
It didn't take long for the pub to empty. The crowd had been mostly
college students, out for a couple of beers and conversation on a
weekday night. By her calculations they'd turned about ten tables no
more than twice since her shift had started at seven. Her tips for the
evening weren't going to make much of a dent in the new car she would
have to buy.
It was so quiet, they both jumped like rabbits when the phone rang. Even
while Grace laughed at their reaction, the blood drained out of Steve's
face. "Mollie," was all he said as he leaped on the phone. He answered
it with a stuttering, "Is it time?"
Grace stepped forward, wondering if she was strong enough to catch him
if he keeled over. When he began nodding rapidly, she felt her smile
spread wide.
"Okay. You--you call the doctor, right? Everything's ready to go. How
far aparta Oh, God, oh, God, I'm on my way. Don't move. Don't do
anything. Don't worry."
He dropped the phone off the hook, then froze. "She's--Mollie--my
wife--"
"Yes, I know who Mollie is--we went to school together from kindergarten
on." Grace laughed. Then because he looked so dear, and so terrified,