Cracking my neck, I refocus my attention on the busboy; who looks stuck somewhere between angry, aroused, and about to piss himself. Coming to a stop about a foot away from him, I meet his gaze head on. I don’t say a word, I just stand there watching him slowly lose the angry bravado he just showed to Amos, until he’s cowering slightly in front of me.
He opens his mouth as though he’s about to speak, maybe to explain why the fuck he thought it was okay to talk to my brother the way he did, or expect to be with him in my place. Nothing comes out, and he shudders, swallowing the lump that’s probably formed in my throat and looks down at his chest. I know how intimidating I can be when I want to be, and right now is one of those times.
“Not so bold now, are you?” I remark as amusement slowly replaces my initial fury. “Stay out of my way, kid. You can’t handle what I’ve got,” I tell him as I jerk my head toward the refrigeration units where Amos is probably still doing inventory.
Looking away, I walk past him to find Amos, and I hear him finally speak. “You don’t know shit about me.”
I pause, then slowly turn around to face him again, cocking my head to one side. “Neither do you, so unless you want to get caught up in more than you can handle, I suggest you mind your own damn business.”
“My name is Colin,” he grits out, but I wave a disinterested hand as I make my way to the back of the kitchen to find Amos.
Coming to a stop outside one of the walk-ins, I’m just about to turn the handle when the one next to it opens and a distracted Amos walks out with a clipboard. His hair is disheveled like he’s been running his hands through it, and he looks as angry as I feel. Given the accusations leveled at him by Colin, I’m not surprised to find him in this state.
“Hey,” I say quietly, and smile when he jumps in surprise. “You okay?”
He glances past me toward Colin, scowls, then meets my eyes.
“I will be when my shift is over. I’m almost done here now.”
“I’ll wait in there for you,” I tell him pointedly, jerking my head toward door, past the nosy voyeur listening in from in front of the fryer.
He nods and I walk through the door and sit at the order counter, watching him work through the service window while keeping a close eye on the kid who’s also following Amos’ every move. He’s got good taste, I’ll give him that much.
Chapter Eighteen
Amos
Finally, I think as I tear the list off the clipboard and toss it onto the head cook’s desk.
His standards are high no matter the kind of place he seems to find himself working in, and I like that. It makes me work harder, cleaner, and become more proficient at the simplest of tasks.
I blow out my breath as I walk back into the kitchen, and arch an eyebrow at Colin. In the few moments I left him behind to find out what Suzie wanted, it looks like he’s been through a fucking war.
“You doing okay?” I ask him curiously as I walk toward the coat rack near the back door and retrieve my jacket.
“Yeah, just –” he stops short and shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I nod and give him a friendly smile, “I’ll talk to Xavier about things. Who knows? Maybe we can work something out.”
He shakes his head again, looking as dejected as ever, and now I’m wondering if he’s regretting everything before we even have a chance to start.
“I probably won’t be able to go to sleep for the next few hours, so if you need me to come back, I’m only a text away, okay?”
“I bet.”
I have to fight the urge to throw my hands up in exasperation. If this is what I would have to deal with, snarky comments about my sleep schedule, then perhaps it’s for the best that he regrets everything ahead of time.
“Or, you know, drown if it comes down to it,” I snap as I shrug on my jacket. His cheeks redden and I feel bad almost instantly.
That’s the major difference between me and my brother. I regret things I say in anger, while he tends to relish them.
“I’ll see you in a couple of days,” I say quietly as I make my way toward the swinging double doors and step out into the diner.
___
“So, are you sober yet?” I tease Xavier as I sit down on the stool next to him. He’s saddled up by the counter, more than likely watching Katy to make sure he’s not getting fed anymore day-old coffee mixtures.
“I was never drunk,” he remarks as he picks up his coffee cup and presses it to his lips.