Making It Right. Kathy Altman

back. And you’d be doing me a favor, keeping an eye on the place. Plus, you’ll be saving me the trouble of looking for an employee.”

      “Do you really need help?” In all the time they’d been sitting there, not once had the bell over the door announced a customer.

      “Not full-time, no, but having you here would free me up to take care of things at my new house. Like cleaning. Unpacking. Figuring out a way to disinvite the raccoons living over my garage.”

      A lightness expanded behind Kerry’s breastbone. A job and a place to stay, just like that. Seemed she’d gotten her first break since that peremptory knock on her front door, almost a year ago now.

      The offer was as tempting as that second cinnamon roll seemed to be to Eugenia—lust gleamed in the dress shop owner’s eyes as she considered Kerry’s plate. And yet...

      With shaking fingers, Kerry folded and refolded the napkin on her knee. She’d opted for the easy route far too many times. That kind of cowardice had earned her a divorce, a handful of victims she’d never be able to make things right with, six months of house arrest and a lifetime supply of shame and regret.

      Besides, it had been obvious from the moment she’d approached Kerry at the diner that Eugenia had struggled with whether or not to extend this offer.

      An offer that could so easily put Eugenia right back into victim mode.

      If Kerry’s father found out, it would damage whatever chance he and Eugenia had of reconciling. And if Kerry stayed in Castle Creek and didn’t find a job, Eugenia would repeat the offer. Harris would find out one way or another. If Kerry landed another job, eventually the news about her conviction would spread, and her father would be humiliated all over again.

      She placed her napkin on the table and straightened her shoulders. “Thank you, Eugenia. You don’t know how much your generosity means to me. But I can’t take advantage of you again. That’s why I’m here, to stop the cycle.” She slapped her thighs. “I’ll try to talk to my father one more time. Then I’m going home.”

      “You can’t quit now.”

      “I’ll be in touch. I promise. As soon as I find a job, I’ll start making payments.” Maybe the telemarketing firm would take her back.

      “Kerry. There’s something you should know.” Eugenia reached out, adjusted the teapot and flashed a trembling smile. “Your father has a heart condition. And it’s starting to get the better of him.”

      * * *

      THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Kerry pulled in a breath and followed Eugenia into Snoozy’s Bar and Grill, the local hotspot, according to Eugenia. She must have meant it literally, because someone had set the thermostat to stifling. Kerry shrugged off her sweater and gazed longingly toward a tidy but well-used wooden bar.

      Tossing one back wouldn’t make the best impression. And one drink wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to help her forget that two years earlier, her father had been diagnosed with something called viral cardiomyopathy and hadn’t cared enough to let her know.

      Eugenia tugged her deeper into the bar. No surprise the place was deserted—according to the sign on the door, it didn’t open until eleven.

      It wasn’t as dimly lit as she’d expected. Sunshine streamed through a wide front window bracketed by dusty brown shutters, revealing what looked like a fancy hutch beneath, chest high, made of wood and acrylic. Strategically placed rocks and leaf-heavy branches decorated the emerald-colored outdoor carpet that lined the bottom of the pen.

      Like a terrarium.

      For reptiles.

      Big ones.

      Kerry stumbled back a step, wondering if she was staring at the reason the owner hadn’t managed to find a fill-in bartender. What the hell was in there?

      “There he is,” chirped Eugenia.

      Kerry jumped, and craned her neck. “Where?”

      “Here.” Eugenia clutched her elbow and swung her around. “Kerry, meet Snoozy. Snoozy, this is my friend Kerry.”

      Kerry felt a squeeze in her chest. Eugenia had used the word friend so very casually.

      “Nice to meet you, Kerry.” A lanky, mournful-looking man with a handlebar moustache and shadows under his eyes dried his palms on a towel and slung it over his shoulder. He thrust out a hand. “Didn’t catch your last name.”

      She stuffed her left hand in the back pocket of her jeans to hide the tremble. Would he recognize the name?

      Here we go.

      But before she could say anything, Snoozy dropped her hand and yanked the towel from his shoulder. He bent toward the glass.

      “Smudges,” he muttered, and made a few swipes with the towel. “I hate smudges.”

      She released a shaky breath. How about ex-cons? Do you hate those, too?

      Eugenia made an ahem noise.

      Snoozy straightened. “You ladies hungry? I just put together a big pot of chili you’re welcome to try. New recipe,” he said, and winked.

      That’s what she’d been smelling. Oregano and cumin. Her stomach rumbled.

      Eugenia reached out and grabbed a handful of Kerry’s long-sleeved top, as if in warning. Surely she couldn’t mean...

      Kerry shuddered and gestured awkwardly at the pen. “Please tell me you didn’t cook anything that lived in there.”

      Snoozy’s mouth dropped open and he staggered back a step. “Mitzi? I’d never think of—” His eyes narrowed. “You been talking to Audrey?”

      “His bride-to-be,” Eugenia explained to Kerry, and gave her arm a let-me-handle-this pat. To Snoozy, she said, “I understand you’re still looking for someone to fill in while you’re on your honeymoon. Kerry here is interested in the job.”

      His face cleared. He stroked his moustache and regarded Kerry with fresh interest. “Got any experience?”

      “I tended bar in college. It was a long time ago, but I still make a mean margarita.” Maybe he’d ask her to demonstrate. A jigger of tequila would come in handy right about now.

      “I’d need you to do more than tend bar. I have a server for lunch and dinner. While she runs the front, I run the grill in the back.”

      Oh. Damn. Disappointment tugged at Kerry’s shoulders. She was a capable cook, but not much more than that. She glanced away from the encouragement in Eugenia’s eyes. “I can mix drinks under pressure. Cooking, not so much.”

      “We could probably talk Ruthie into trading places when necessary.” He didn’t give her a chance to gush her thanks. “Got any questions for me?”

      She burst out with “Who’s Mitzi?” What’s Mitzi?

      Eugenia hid a smile behind her hand.

      “You didn’t see my sign out front?” Snoozy scratched his chin with long, thin fingers. “Maybe I should get a bigger one.”

      She’d seen the sign. Python Petting Zoo. “I thought that was some kind of dirty joke.”

      “Mitzi is no joke,” Snoozy huffed. “I’d be pleased to introduce you.”

      Kerry glanced uneasily at Eugenia. The other woman lifted an eyebrow and Kerry got the message, loud and clear. How badly do you want this job?

      She tipped up her chin and sidled over to join Snoozy beside the pen. He scanned the interior, then pointed to the far left corner. Kerry followed his finger, and froze.

      Something slithered.

      Something big.

      “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Snoozy spoke in hushed tones.

      Teeth digging into her