Luscious(4)

He wasn’t stupid. The waitstaff was tight. They watched out for each other. Even after a few weeks, someone should have been to Ally’s place. Eric was right about that smile though. When she did smile, it kind of lit up the room. “Maybe she’s staying with a friend.”

“Or maybe she’s staying in that piece of shit Ford that’s always parked down the street on the nights she works. I walked by after Deena mentioned it. There are a couple of blankets and pillows in the back. I’m telling you if you like the girl, you better make your claim because someone’s going to take an interest sooner or later. The minute Sean Taggart figures out one of his employees is living in her car, he’ll take over. We don’t call it Top for nothing, brother.” Eric put a hand on his shoulder. “You have some time. Figure it out.”

Top was a play on words. It hadn’t taken long to figure that out. His brother had explained that most of his friends, including Chef Taggart, were into the BDSM lifestyle. They played around for the most part, but there wasn’t a single one of those men who wouldn’t take responsibility for a female in need. They would step in and help because it was the right thing to do.

He kind of liked his brother’s friends.

Eric walked away and Macon was left with a dilemma.

He wasn’t good for Ally. There was no question about that. He was only now starting to deal with his responsibilities, and taking on another one might not be the best idea. He was kind of toxic.

But wasn’t toxic better than homeless? She was sweet. She was sad. She worked her butt off every night and he’d noticed she helped her coworkers when they struggled. When the front was slow, she came back to the kitchen and tried to help them. Shouldn’t someone watch out for her? He’d heard she didn’t have any family left. She always turned down going out at night, preferring to work late. Maybe she was trying to save money for a place of her own.

He didn’t like the thought of her sleeping in her car. It was dangerous.

The guesthouse had two bedrooms. His brother’s guesthouse was bigger than most people’s actual houses. Adam had done well for himself. Adam wouldn’t stop him from bringing a stray home. Hell, they would likely welcome her with open arms. The Dean-Miles family liked to take in strays.

He finished with the crusts and went to wash his hands. Maybe it was time to ask Ally a few questions.

Maybe it was time to give a shit about someone other than himself.



* * * *



Ally dropped off the new menus. They changed nightly because Sean Taggart liked to use fresh ingredients. Top was farm to table. He negotiated with local farms for whatever he could, and as far as Ally could tell he was one hell of a chef. She’d been raised on whatever her mom had a coupon for, but she’d discovered she really liked sea bass and polenta, and god she could eat risotto all day.

And Macon’s pastries. Oh, Timothy the Ass took credit, but she watched Macon work. Macon made the fluffiest crust, the richest chocolate mousse.

He was also the damn dreamiest man she’d ever seen, and she wasn’t a woman who used the word dreamiest lightly.

In the few weeks she’d worked at Top, she would swear she’d gained ten pounds. After service was over, staff got to eat. She’d had some of the best food of her life here. She’d also had some really good times. She’d thought she only ever fit in with her mom and Ronnie, but this place was starting to feel like home.

“Hey, you. I heard we’re going to Deep Ellum after work tonight.” Deena took the menus and placed them in the basket by the hostess station. She was an infinitely competent woman in her early thirties, with a ready smile and a warm personality. She kept the front of house running like clockwork. “Tell me you’re coming with us. We need to dance.”

Oddly, the idea of going clubbing held no appeal. She was young and single and had no ties to anyone, and yet all she wanted to do was have a place to go to with a TV and a warm bed and a Macon Miles to cuddle up against.

Damn it. She couldn’t think that way. Macon was the target. Macon was the only one who could tell her what really happened to her brother. The report didn’t make sense. She knew the Army could cover up deaths, and she was sure that was what happened with Ronnie.

Had Macon killed her brother? Somehow she didn’t think so. She certainly didn’t want to believe it. She’d walked into Top with the full intention of confronting him. She’d meant to sit down with Macon and force him to talk to her. Then she’d actually seen him. When she’d knocked on the back door, he’d opened it. He’d wiped his hands on his apron and given her the sweetest smile she’d ever seen, and when he’d asked what she needed her brain and her mouth hadn’t worked at all in sync. She’d stumbled and told him she was looking for a job, and she’d started waiting tables that night.

How would he feel if he knew she had an ulterior motive? She promised herself every single night that she was going to tell him the truth, and every night she put it off. Now she was in too deep. She was caught in a trap of her own making.

“I can’t. I’m closing.” It was a perfect excuse and one she liked using. She took all the extra shifts she could. Besides needing the money, she liked the quiet after the restaurant was closed. She enjoyed the way Sean turned on music and everything seemed to slow down. They would sit and have a late dinner. Sometimes Sean’s wife Grace would join them and she could watch how much they loved each other. If Grace brought their daughter, she could play with the baby.

“You’re always closing.” Deena frowned her way. “Some day you’ll have to join us and have some fun.”

“Of course.” She handed Deena the eraser for the features board. “One day I won’t be the new girl.”

She put the working-late excuse on being the new girl. She couldn’t explain that she didn’t have enough cash for a deposit on an apartment and wouldn’t for a while. She still had to make payments on her mother’s hospital bills. Her mom had been so proud. She couldn’t let it go, couldn’t let her sink into bankruptcy even though she was gone.

Deena sighed. “Can you take the trash out? The bathrooms are clean, but the lobby trash is full. I swear Javier cleans out that truck of his with that can. I’ve told him twenty times to take it out back.”

She nodded and walked to the front of the house. The entry trash was only about half full, but it was best to start with a clean slate. She quickly pulled the bag. There were several more beneath, always ready for a quick change. She fixed the new bag and closed the old.

“Thank you, darlin’!” Deena winked her way. “You’re the best. I’m going to give you all the high rollers tonight.”

Ally grinned and walked toward the back. She moved through the kitchen, enjoying the smells of the prep and the hum of activity.

She’d worked a few jobs before. Before her mom had gotten sick, she’d worked in the local fast food place. That had been pretty nasty, though she’d enjoyed the camaraderie. She’d worked two jobs after high school, saving every dime she’d made for four years. After Ronnie had gone into the service, she’d felt odd about leaving their mom alone for too long. She’d changed over to working part time for the church.

She pushed out of the back door and took a deep breath. Where had all those years gone? Why couldn’t her mother have passed on before she knew Ronnie was gone? It seemed kinder. But the universe hadn’t shown a hell of a lot of kindness to Ally’s family.

With a heavy heart, she opened the bin and dumped the trash in. It would be dark soon and time for dinner service. For a few hours she could lose herself in work and not think about all the problems she needed to solve.

Macon Miles wasn’t who she’d thought he was. Somehow she’d made him a monster in her mind, the one who survived when it should have been Ronnie. He’d taken her brother’s place. She knew in her rational mind that wasn’t fair, but it was how she felt at the time.

Macon was a big bear of a man. He was also well educated and, if rumors were true, he came from a wealthy family. She’d met his brother. Adam Miles was elegant and well spoken. They were the types of men who married women with college degrees and fancy careers and social connections. Three strikes and she was out. He was exactly the type of man she should shy away from because he would never get serious about a girl like her.

So why did her eyes trail toward him constantly? What was it about those big, strong hands molding delicate treats that made her daydream about impossible things?

Macon wasn’t her type. Not even close. She didn’t really have a type now that she thought about it. She’d only dated a couple of guys seriously and they were all willing to look past her shady family history. It wasn’t easy to grow up in a small town where everyone knew about her father’s crimes.

Ronnie hadn’t cared. She could remember the first and only time she’d tried to run away after Carla Rowe had taken her in. Ronnie had run after her, still in his pajamas. He was a gangly kid. All arms and legs and big sad eyes. Everyone teased the hell out of him, but he’d sworn if she was leaving then he was, too. She was his sister, after all. He couldn’t let her go alone, but he’d asked her to reconsider because the next night was mac and cheese night. He loved mac and cheese.