New York Nights: Shaken and Stirred. Kathleen O'Reilly

why did everybody have to be so literal tonight? “I’m going to learn,” she answered and then ran downstairs because she needed to get away, if only for a few minutes. Just long enough to pull herself together.

      Once downstairs, she hid in the walk-in refrigerator, shivering in the cold, until a moment later when Daniel came in and sat next to her on a crate of limes. “You all right?” he asked as if it were completely normal to be sitting around in a refrigerator.

      “Good. Of course, I’m good. No, I’m great,” Tessa replied.

      “You don’t sound great.”

      “Does anybody really know how great sounds? We all have varying degrees of great, and I’m tipping the scales here.”

      He stayed silent for a minute, and she wondered why Daniel even cared about her well-being. He never was this sociable. Never. “Marisa is a friend of yours?” he asked.

      “Yeah.”

      “She’s a looker.”

      “And she’s nice, too,” said Tessa sweetly.

      “That’s why you’re pushing her toward my brother?”

      Tessa didn’t like the way Daniel was looking at her. As though he knew things, things that she didn’t want anybody to know. “She doesn’t have cooties, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

      “Not asking. Merely trying to sort things out.”

      “Nothing to sort out,” she said, forcing a laugh.

      “You’re sure?”

      “Yeah. If you’re thinking about the bet, don’t worry. I’m going to make Sean give everybody their money back. You won’t lose.” Technically Daniel should have won the first night. At one time, she would have insisted that he take the money, but now she didn’t care. When she had a real job, she’d pay him the three thousand out of her own pocket.

      “I’m worried about Gabe, not the bet, Tessa.”

      And, yes, he was worried about his brother, not the money. Wasn’t that what families did? Protect each other? Tessa wanted to tell him that Gabe didn’t need anybody worrying about him. He was unflappable, unsinkable, unassailable and every other able she could think of. Able. It was exactly the right word for Gabe. And Marisa. He and Marisa would get along fine. “Gabe’s great,” she muttered, crossing her arms across her chest, partially in defense and partially because the walk-in was freezing.

      Daniel was unfazed. “I’ll leave you alone.”

      “You do that, Daniel. Thanks.”

       8

      GABE DIDN’T COME HOME on Saturday night and Tessa pretended not to notice. What did she expect? Instead she studied the real estate book and plucked her eyebrows for the first time in her life. And because she didn’t want to face him when he did walk in the door, she changed for work and opted to spend Sunday afternoon in the park before heading to Prime.

      Gabe wasn’t scheduled to work that night, and Tessa was almost relieved.

      Almost.

      The truth was, she loved working with Gabe. Daniel was nice, but he didn’t talk much. Sean was okay, but he didn’t let anybody get too close. And Gabe was…well, Gabe was Gabe.

      When she tossed a bottle his way, he caught it. When she juggled three lemons, he juggled four. When he started a joke, she knew the punch line.

      God, she missed that.

      When she got in, the Thursday afternoon irregulars were sitting at the bar.

      “About time you showed up, missy. My glass has been empty for a full—” Charlie checked his old windup watch “—eight seconds.”

      “Why are you here on Sunday?”

      “Lindy told me the yellow-sundress lady came here last Sunday. I want to find her. Wore my best tie.”

      Tessa smiled with relief. She’d rather be spending time worrying about Charlie’s love life than Gabe’s. “You’re looking spiffy, Charlie. I don’t think that any woman could resist you with those—” Tessa took a good look “—dollar signs and Playboy logos running down your chest.”

      Charlie shrugged what had once been extrawide shoulders. “When you’re my age, you don’t need a tie for much.”

      Lloyd sniffed. “A man should always have appropriate attire.”

      Tessa slapped her rag in his general direction. “Charlie’s a free spirit.”

      EC nudged Charlie in the ribs. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

      Sure enough, walking through the door were two young ladies—way too young for Charlie. But his eyes lit up. “That’s her, but where’s her grandmother?”

      For a good ten minutes the men sat debating the wisdom of whether Charlie should talk to the granddaughter or not, and finally Tessa got miffed at all of them. No balls. Not a one.

      Taking matters in hand, she approached the table where the two girls were sitting. “Can I get you something?” she asked, placing two bar napkins in front of them.

      “Margarita on the rocks, no salt,” said the first one.

      “Appletini,” said the second, and Tessa recognized her as the girl who wore the yellow sundress, although today she was in navy shorts and a classy tank top. “You’ve been in here before, right?”

      “Yeah, I work down the street.”

      “Weren’t you here with an older woman?” Tessa looked at the other girl. “No offense, of course, but I knew you were way too young.”

      “That’s my great-aunt. She’s visiting from Kansas and she swore that she remembered being in this place a long time ago, but they called it something else. She made us stop that day.”

      Tessa nodded, adopting her friendly tour-guide face. “That’s possible. Prime was O’Sullivan’s a lot of years ago. In fact, it was a speakeasy back during Prohibition. Your aunt has got a great memory. What’s her name?”

      “Irene Langford. I’m Kristine Langford.”

      Tessa leaned in low. “Listen, you see the group of old guys at the bar?” Kristine nodded. “One of them swears he knows your great-aunt. Maybe you could bring her in here sometime this week?”

      “Really?” Kristine looked at the matched set of gray heads that were all turned in her direction. “That’s so sweet. But she’s not here anymore. She went back home.”

      Tessa tried to look perky for Charlie, but inside she felt something tear. When you got to be Charlie’s age, opportunities were few and far between. “You expect her to visit again?”

      “Doubt it. She’s terrified of flying. The doctor had to slip her a Valium to get her on the plane in the first place. But can I tell her his name?”

      Tessa thought for a minute, looked at Charlie’s eager eyes, and nodded. “Charlie. Charlie Atwood.”

      “Charlie?”

      “Uh-huh, the one in the tie—but don’t hold it against him. I’ll buy him another one,” promised Tessa. “Let me get your drinks.”

      Tessa went back behind the bar and was immediately bombarded with eighty million questions.

      “What’s the woman’s name?”

      “Irene Langford.”

      “Langford? That doesn’t sound right.”

      “Charlie, it’s been a long time. I bet she’s not who you think she is.”

      He frowned. “That’s the problem. I