He closed the folder and held it out to her. “Why are you so desperate to serve drinks?”
“I owe a lot of money.”
Another fact. But this one led to a bucket of questions. “Your father won’t help you?”
She shook her head. “This is my responsibility. He’s giving me a place to stay until I get back on my feet.”
The don’t-mess-with-me veneer he wore like body armor cracked. If someone had hurt Josie . . . No, she wasn’t his responsibility. Whatever trouble she’d found—credit card debt, bad loans—it wasn’t his mess to clean up. He’d spent most of his life playing superhero, first on the football field, later for his family, and then for his fellow marines. But his last deployment—and the fallout—had made it pretty damn clear that he wasn’t cut out for the role.
He couldn’t help Josie Fairmore. Not this time. And he sure as hell couldn’t give her a job that would keep her underfoot. He couldn’t pay her to work for him and want her at the same time. It wasn’t right. Maybe he was a failed hero. But he still knew right from wrong.
“Look, I need experienced waitresses and bartenders.” He stepped away, ready to head back to the peace and quiet of his empty bar.
“So you haven’t filled the positions?” she asked.
“I—”
“Please think about it.” She removed her foot, offering him the space to slam the door. “If you can’t help me, I’ll have to take Daphne up on her offer to serve topless drinks at The Lost Kitten. And I’d rather keep my shirt on while I work. But one way or another, I’m going to pay back what I owe.”
She turned and headed for the red Mini. He stared at her back and pictured her bending over tables. One look at her bare chest and the guys at The Lost Kitten would forget what they planned to order. He hated that mental image, but jealousy didn’t dominate his senses right now.
He’d witnessed a woman sacrifice her pride and her dignity for her job. He’d fought like hell for her and he’d failed her. He couldn’t change the past. What happened to Caroline was out of his hands now. Even if he wanted to help, he couldn’t. She’d disappeared. If and when Caroline resurfaced, she’d be the one charged with a crime. Unauthorized absence. And his testimony? The things he’d witnessed? It wouldn’t matter.
But Josie was standing in his freaking parking lot.
“I’ll give you one shot,” he called. She stopped and turned to face him. Her full lips formed a smile and her eyes shone with triumph.
“A trial shift,” he added. “If you can keep up with a Thursday-night crowd, I’ll consider giving you a job.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Come back around four. And don’t get too excited. Your babysitting experience won’t help with a room full of college kids counting down the days until spring break.”
He closed the door and turned to face the dark interior of his father’s bar. Giving her a shot didn’t make him a hero. But it would give him a chance to figure out why she needed the money.