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slowly stood from the table. “What am I doing? I feel like I’m playing a game and any minute now someone is going to unmask me and everyone will know how I am absolutely the wrong woman to be marrying that man.”
Maxine came toward her and put her hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me. You will never find anyone who loves you as much as that man does. You have a jewel in him. You are blessed. Don’t foolishly toss it aside because you can’t see beyond his material possessions.”
“Can anyone see past his material possessions?” She looked at her watch. “I have to run. I’m meeting Craig at the restaurant.”
“Hey,” Maxine said as Robin started to dash down the hallway. “Be careful with that.”
Robin smiled and dismissively waved her hand. “It’s fine.”
HEF Casey stood behind the big stainless steel island next to a nervous assistant who deftly cut carrots into julienne strips. He looked up as Robin walked into the room. He gave her the grimace that passed for his smile, making his uneven teeth flash startling white against his ebony face. “Hiya.”
Robin smiled back, “Hiya yourself.” She stepped aside and encouraged Craig Bartlett to step forward.
Casey looked with curiosity at Robin’s guest, but continued their ritual greeting with, “All right, then.”
“Casey, I’d like you to meet my father, Craig Bartlett.” Robin still felt strange saying that. Craig’s feet shuffled and he nervously nodded at Casey, but he did not speak. He stood well over six feet tall, with dirty blond hair and pale blue eyes. His plaid shirt stretched tight over a broad chest and large stomach.
The old chef left his assistant and came around the table. When he reached Craig, he held out his hand. “Pleasure,” he said.
Craig took the thin chef’s offered hand and shook it with a mumbled, “Nice to meet you.”
Casey squinted his eyes. “Seen you around here. Recognize the face. Used to stay here late nights Robin tended bar.”
It was nearly the longest speech Robin had ever heard Casey utter. And it told her that Casey knew that Craig was a recovering alcoholic. She had no idea what else he might already know.
The men shook hands and Robin spoke, “I told Craig you might be able to put him to work.”
“That right? What can ya do, Craig?” The much shorter and bonier old man asked, his voice skeptical yet open.
Craig ran his finger under the collar of his new shirt. “The truth is I ain’t never worked an honest day in my life. So, I don’t know. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”
“Eh?” Casey’s eyes shifted to Robin.
Knowing her friend’s protective feelings toward her, Robin put her hand on her father’s arm to convey her support of him. “Craig just came out of rehab. He has a court date in five months, after which he’ll very probably go back to prison. In the meantime, he needs some kind of work.”
“I can wash dishes, if you want.” Craig offered, looking at the industrial washing station.
Casey stepped back and looked him up and down. “You’s big. Look strong. You’ll do.” Robin smiled, relieved. Casey continued. “Need to get you into a uniform. For now, fetch one o’ them aprons over there. But listen up. This is my kitchen. Do what I say how I say when I say or you’s out. Don’t care if your little girl is the boss. Nobody messes in my kitchen. Clear?”
Craig nodded. “Much obliged. I understand.”
Robin left the men and moved through the kitchen and down the hall to her office. She opened it and slipped in, shutting it behind her and leaning against it. Her hands shook and she pressed them to her eyes.
She didn’t know why she suddenly felt so overwhelmed. Six months ago, she was exhausted physically, and shut down emotionally. Working six days a week, she bartended at one job and waited tables at another. All that mattered to her then was getting Sarah through college and making sure both of her sisters had the means to
Learning to Kill: Stories