customers were hands-off. Sure, there might have been times in the past, but no more. Certainly not with a guy who’d just walk away like she was nothing. Not that she was, of course. She was the one in charge. That was how it went.
The door to the cellar opened and Randy, her behind-the-bar gofer, came out wiping his hands on his jeans. “Okay, I’ve stocked the cold room. There are a couple of spare kegs for every line.”
She nodded and fixed him with a stare before going back to stacking tequila bottles on the shelf in back of the bar. “So where were you tonight just before the fight? One of the kegs ran out and I needed you.”
He shuffled his feet and looked down bashfully. “Sorry, I was out back having a cigarette.”
“I thought you were going to quit.”
He reddened. “One more night. I figure I’ll start tomorrow.”
It was his problem, she told herself, resisting the urge to lecture him. “Whatever. Just keep it to your breaks, Randy, especially on Saturday night. You know how busy we get.”
“I know,” he said, grabbing bottles of bourbon to put on the shelf. “I’m sorry. I saw Shay head down to help you, though, and I figured he could handle things and Benny gave me the high sign to come over and help with those idiots who were fighting, and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She raised one hand. “Stop just a second. Who did you say went down to help?”
“Shay O’Connor.”
“Shay O’Connor,” she repeated. “I know that name.”
“Probably so. He’s the guy that runs O’Connor’s.” He looked at her quizzically. “I thought you knew him.”
The burst of anger shocked her. Mallory drew in a breath and worked to stay calm. So the sexy stranger she’d thought was a customer was actually a fellow bar owner from just a few blocks over. She eyed Randy. “You think he was checking out the competition?”
“I guess,” Randy said thoughtfully. “I don’t know, he’s supposed to be a stand-up guy, but that doesn’t mean he has to be dumb. I mean, the place has been drawing a crowd. Makes sense that people are getting curious. You should take it as a compliment.”
Take what as a compliment, that he’d conned her? That he’d gotten himself a discreet look around by playing grab ass downstairs? That he’d walked away and left her? “A compliment, yeah. I’ll try to remember that.” Mallory glanced away. “Look, we’re about done here,” she said abruptly. “Why don’t you head out?”
“Okay.” He rounded the bar and walked toward the door, then stopped. “Hey listen, I’m sorry about sneaking a butt. It won’t happen again.”
“Right. Now go home and get some sleep.” She had a much bigger problem than Randy’s smoking habit, Mallory reflected as she closed up the back of the bar and got her keys. What was Shay O’Connor doing checking out her bar on the quiet? It would have been one thing if he’d introduced himself. The fact that he hadn’t made her wonder just what he was up to.
Someone was playing games, and it wasn’t her.
Yet.
4
MALLORY SAT AT HER KITCHEN table, sipping at a mug of coffee with the newspaper spread open in front of her. She’d taken care of her first Sunday priority—the funny papers—over toast. Now she was on to part two—the New York Times crossword. Staring at the puzzle, she nibbled on the end of her pen before her eyes brightened and she filled in an answer.
Across the room, the answering machine clicked and began to whirr.
Mallory had long ago decided that just because a phone rang, there was no reason she had to answer it. It hadn’t taken her much more time to graduate to turning off the ringer. Now, she was blissfully unaware of a caller on the line until her machine went off, which was fine with her. She had one or two friends who considered her antisocial; she just considered herself efficient.
The machine gave a long beep. “Mal, are you there?” Dev’s voice came out of the tiny speaker. “Pick up the phone. I know you’re—”
She loped over to grab the receiver. “Hey.”
“Why do you make me listen to that stupid message every time?” he asked aggrievedly.
“You know why. It helps me avoid telemarketers.”
“Not to mention other people you don’t want to talk to.”
She permitted herself a smile. “That, too. Anyway, I keep telling you, hit the star key and you don’t have to listen to the message.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So what are you up to?”
“Working on the crossword. What’s a six-letter term for a group of crows?”
“Don’t you ever read the news?”
She took a gulp of coffee. “Sure, on weekdays. Sunday’s my official day off from world chaos. So how’s Melissa?”
Dev blew out a breath. “She’s fine now but after you called yesterday, she lit into me as soon as she saw I was hung over. Picked a fight and got nasty.” His tone turned grim. “She saw my wallet on the dresser and said I should take her to her favorite stores to make it up to her.”
“Oh, real nice,” Mallory said sarcastically. “You ask me, big brother, it’s time to walk.”
“Yeah, well.” She could hear a rapid thudding that sounded like he was drumming his fingers. “It ticked me off. As soon as she saw it, she apologized and it was like she was fine. She made breakfast, told me about her day, gave me an ice pack for my head.”
Mallory frowned. “And that’s supposed to make it all better?” It brought out her protective side. Family took care of its own. “Dev, it’s not like getting married is going to change things. You guys are having problems. If things don’t work right now, they’re not going to later.”
He sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s great.”
“Yeah, well, is there anything I can do? Do you want to take a break and come up for a visit?”
“Thanks, but it’s my problem and I’m the one who’s got to deal with it. That wasn’t why I called, though.”
“Oh, yeah? Then what’s up?”
“Well…” He hesitated. “I was thinking about the bar, after we talked yesterday. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. It bugs me that I’m not around to help you deal with it.”
“I knew what I was getting into,” she said lightly. “I don’t mind going it alone.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
A shudder of trepidation ghosted over her. “Why do I not like the sound of this?”
“Remember I told you about a friend of mine in Newport who runs a bar?”
“Yes, and remember, I told you I didn’t want help.”
“Just listen to me. He’s got a bar of his own. I’ve asked him to look in on you, see how things are.”
“No!” Mallory said sharply. “This is my show, Dev. I can do this alone. I’ve been running bars for other people for eight years.”
“Relax, he’s not going to run things, okay? But he grew up in Newport, his family’s had a pub there for about sixty years. I think he’s worth listening to.”
“I thought you were going to be hands-off and let me run things. Why the sudden change of heart?” she asked, her voice bitter.
“Look,” he said gently, “we both know you had a rough start.”
“I told you—”