Brand New Me by Meg Benjamin Read Free Book Online Page B

order as quickly as she could without it becoming totally illegible. “And you ma’am?” She turned to the woman with the sculptured hair.
    “Rhonda,” she said. “Rhonda Ruckelshaus. And I’ll have the Faro burger. With fries.”
    Deirdre dutifully wrote the order on her pad. “And iced tea for you, too?”
    “Coke. Diet.”
    Rhonda Ruckelshaus gave her a look that dared her to say anything. Deirdre tucked her pencil behind her ear. “I’ll get those orders in right away.”
    She started toward the kitchen door, then paused at the table where the beer drinker sat. Might as well check on her way. “Did you want some food today, sir?”
    The man glanced up at her, a little woozily, his mouth falling slightly open.
    She upped the brightness of her smile. “Sir? May I take your order?”
    The man blinked as if he was trying to focus. “’Scuse me?”
    “Food. Did you want any food?” She was fairly certain that he’d had more than the single beer on his table, but maybe he’d had them elsewhere.
    “Food. Yeah, okay.” He blinked again, rapidly.
    “What food do you want?” she said slowly. Maybe he needed time to kick his brain into gear.
    “I don’t…what’s good? What should I have?” The man leaned forward slightly, peering up into her face.
    “I’m new here myself. I understand the enchiladas are good.”
    “Enchiladas. Yeah. Sounds good. Bring me some enchiladas.” He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.
    “Right. And something more to drink? Maybe some iced tea?” Coffee would probably be better, but she wasn’t sure how far she could push him.
    The man nodded. “’Nuther beer.”
    Deirdre started for the kitchen again. Behind her, she could hear a muttering of female voices. Apparently Rhonda Ruckleshaus and her friend were in conference.
    She trotted to the hand-through window at the kitchen. The shoulder-high counter had a circular rack where two of Bobby Sue’s green order sheets hung from clips. She tore off the order for the club sandwich, then the one for the burger and fries, attaching them to clips of her own. She was tearing off the enchilada order when a small, fierce female face peered up at her from the other side of the counter.
    “Who the hell are you?”
    Deirdre blinked. “I’m new,” she stammered.
    “No shit.” The woman was maybe five feet tall. Deirdre was amazed she could see over the counter. Her dark hair was tucked haphazardly under a chef’s beanie and she studied Deirdre with narrowed eyes that snapped like firecrackers. “Lemme see what you’ve got there.” She pulled the two orders off the rack, quickly. “My god. You’ve got the neatest handwriting I’ve ever seen.”
    “Is that a problem?” She didn’t think it would be, but with restaurants, who knew?
    “No, ma’am. It took me a week to get to the point where I could decipher Bobby Sue, and I still have problems with her spelling. I’m Clem. Clemencia Rodriguez.” She extended a hand across the counter for Deirdre to shake.
    “Deirdre Brandenburg. Pleased to meet you.”
    Clem grinned at her. “Likewise. Now go back to your station. Chico will bring your food over when it’s ready. Drinks are at the bar—just tell Tom what you want. Stick around for lunch after your shift is over and I’ll fill you in on all you need to know.”
    Deirdre doubted that would be possible in under a week, but at least somebody had volunteered to try.
    She stopped back at the bar. “The guy at the table near the kitchen wants another beer.” She realized suddenly she hadn’t checked to see what kind he was drinking. On well, maybe Tom knew already.
    He glanced at the customer, eyes narrowing. “How soused is he?”
    She looked back. “Slurring. Looks drowsy. How soused is that?”
    “Too soused.” He sighed, turning back toward the taps. He drew a glass of soda. “Tell him the bar’s closed. Give him this. On the house.”
    Fortunately, the customer was also too soused to complain. He