Gage’s green eyes widen. “That’s brutal.”
I nod. “I saw them bring the body out. It was horrible. Jade worked for her husband’s uncle, so his death hit her hard.”
We both look in her direction to find her dragging her hands through her short blonde hair.
“Make her another martini,” Gage says. “On the house.”
I look at him. “You’re sure?”
He smiles. “She looks like she could use it, and I could use a favor.”
I’ve asked dozens of favors of Gage over the past few years, and he’s granted all of them. I respond without thought. “Tell me what you need.”
“I know you weren’t scheduled to work today, but Katie wants to meet up for lunch.” A warm smile accompanies his wife’s name. “Can you cover for me for a couple of hours at noon?”
“Consider it done.”
“Thanks, Callie.” He pats my hand. “The right job will come along soon. I know it’s not a lot, but if you can cover another extra shift every week, it’s yours.”
“You know how much I appreciate that, right?” I ask.
“I know.” He glances at Jade again. “Set her up with another drink, and thanks again for stepping in to help.”
It’s the least I can do, and besides, the mid-day crowd usually consists of corporate types that work high-powered jobs. I’ll walk out of here with a fist full of tips that will go directly toward my one and only debt.
Maybe this day won’t be a total loss after all.
Chapter Three
Callie
“Wells is hiring,”Jade announces with a glance in my direction. “They’re looking for an administrative assistant, and there’s a position in marketing too. You know Wells, right?”
She follows that up with a giggle and a wink.
She’s on her third martini.
I wouldn’t classify her as tipsy, but she’s feeling less pain than when we arrived three hours ago.
I asked if she wanted me to call anyone for her, but she told me that she had already sent a text message to her husband asking him to stop by here after his lunch meeting.
I look to the two tables that are now occupied.
I served up their drinks quickly while keeping an eye on Jade.
In an abstract way, I feel responsible for her.
That’s not a burden, but it is a distraction.
I stand next to her and nod. “I know that company.”
“They have that enormous billboard in the middle of Times Square.” She laughs. “Every time I pass it, I take a minute to appreciate the man in the picture, including what’s inside his underwear. It’s obvious he’s got a lot to work with.”
I glance down at the floor.
It’s impossible to miss that billboard.
It’s an image of a man from the neck down. The Wells name is stitched in red lettering across the gray waistband of the white boxer briefs the model is wearing.