I rolled the bucket and mop to the back and found Hank sitting on a stool looking pale and with sweat beading his forehead. He was clutching a glass of orange juice.
I stopped the rolling bucket. "Not you too?" I asked.
"It hit me about two hours ago. I was hoping that I was just fatigued, but nope, I've got it."
"Go home. I'll let Carol know. She might have to close the diner tomorrow. It's one thing to be short on servers but no cook means no food."
"I'll talk to Carol later." Hank downed the orange juice. "Think I'm already past the Vitamin C supplement stage. I feel lousy. I'm leaving my bike here. I called for a ride. They should be here soon."
I crinkled my nose. "You look terrible. Is there anything I need to do in the kitchen?"
"No, I've got it all ready for tomorrow." His phone beeped. "Ride's here. I'll call Carol when I get home." Hank walked out.
I went to the stockroom for napkins to fill the containers. I had to shuffle some boxes around to get to the napkins. The front door opened and shut.
I walked out with the pile of napkins. "Did you forget something?" I froze and stared at the three men standing in the diner. I could see their green car parked out front.
They were definitely not there for pancakes. I recognized one, a man with greasy dark hair and beady eyes, as a construction worker, only I hadn't seen him since the first week.
It took me a second to find my voice, and even then, I could barely hear it over the loud pounding of my pulse. "We're closed." I glanced sideways. A tray of silverware, fresh from the dishwasher, was sitting on the counter. I wasn't sure how much defense I could muster with a fork and butter knife but I was willing to find out.
"Told you she was a looker," the man I recognized said through tobacco-stained teeth.
The man who I'd seen behind the wheel this morning motioned for the other man, a large guy with ruddy, freckled skin and cheeks that were so round they nearly swallowed his eyes, to move toward the cash register.
"We're not going to hurt you, princess," the apparent leader said, "just need you to open that cash register. We know you've had plenty of customers with that big worksite across the street."
A short nervous laugh spurted from my lips. "What year do you think this is? We have almost no cash in the register. Everyone uses a card or their phone." I was nervous and, at the same time, shocked at how cocky I sounded. I reached casually toward the silverware. I had to grab blindly and ended up with a fork in my hand. I held it slightly behind me as I walked to the register. I was hyperaware that I was all alone in the diner, and while the leader seemed mostly interested in the cash, the ex-worker licked his lips as he looked me up and down.
I walked over to the register and opened it up. There wasn't more than three hundred dollars in bills and coins inside, but I wasn't going to fight them for it. Carol would not have expected me to.
The redhead stomped over in big boots and swept up all the cash in the register. "Like she said, there ain't much in here."
"I'll search her," the leering man said. He licked his lips again. "They keep all their tips in their apron pockets."
He marched toward me. "I didn't want to give up my hard-earned tips, but mostly, I didn't want the creep to touch me. He lunged at me, and I stabbed his arm forcefully with the fork. He yelled out and swung his arm at me. I flew back and landed hard against the counter. Pain ripped through me and my vision blurred. I searched frantically for the wad of bills from my tips and threw it at the man. The cash blew past him as he lunged at me again.
A loud bang was followed by a rush of cool air.
thirty
. . .
Ronan
Doris came out to the back where I was tossing scrap wood into a bin. My hand ached from my first day back at work, but I was feeling good about being back at it.
"How's the hand?" she asked. She'd insisted on looking at it this morning and even tested me by tossing a stapler my direction without warning to see if I could catch it. I managed to snatch it out of the air and hold onto it, so she deemed me fit for work.
"The hand's tired, but I think that's mostly because I wasn't using it for the past three weeks."
Doris motioned for me to take off my work glove. "Hmm, finger looks swollen. Don't forget to put some ice on it tonight."
"Yep. I will." I put on the glove and leaned down to grab some more planks of wood.
"When your hand is feeling a hundred percent, I'm moving you up to framing. Tim is going to train you. I think you're ready to move up on the roster. Just don't break anything else, eh?"
I stopped what I was doing and stared at her to make sure she was serious. It seemed she was. "Thanks, boss. I won't let you down."