He walked over to the bar. “Hey, Joe. Victoria’s feeling pretty self-conscious about all the attention. She doesn’t think she did anything special. She doesn’t want anyone making a fuss over her.”
Joe glanced over Eric’s shoulder in her direction. “Okay. We can keep it low-key, but someone here wants to thank her.”
He pointed to a table near the kitchen.
Bear sat there, finishing his dinner, a big glass of milk next to his plate.
“Think she’ll object to that?” Joe asked.
“Nah. I think we’re good there.”
“Also, I might or might not have asked the Mudbugs to do a special cover in her honor tonight.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Eric walked back to the table.
“What was that about?” Victoria asked.
“Just trying to make sure Joe doesn’t embarrass you.”
The food arrived a few minutes later, a frown coming over Victoria’s features when she took her first bite of the chicken.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like this either.”
“No, it’s fantastic. I wonder what they use as a marinade. It tastes like …”
“Margarita mix.” Joe stood there, a bottle of champagne and three glasses in his hands. “I’m glad you like it. Mind if I join you?”
Joe rarely stepped out from behind the bar during business hours, and he almost never sat with patrons. So when he pulled out the chair and sat, people gawked.
He set a champagne glass before each of them, opened the bottle, and poured. They made small talk while Eric and Victoria ate, discussing the wedding, the weather, and Rico’s ongoing effort to get Chicago-style deep-dish pizza on the menu.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Victoria said, looking around her. “There’s no place like Knockers in Chicago.”
“I was serious about that job offer,” Joe said.
That seemed to fluster her. “My degree is in public relations, not cooking.”
Joe shrugged. “I have a master’s of science in mining engineering.”
Eric could have tongue-kissed the man. Not that he really expected Victoria to leave her life behind to work in a restaurant, but he could hope…
When they finished their meals, Joe got to the point. “I understand from Hawke that you don’t want us making a fuss about what you did. I get that. I really do. But Bear is important to us. It goes against the grain in this town not to honor our heroes.”
“I’m not a hero.” There was a dark frustration in her eyes. “You all keep saying I did something really brave, but I can’t even remember it.”
Sothatwas the problem.
“I know someone who remembers it all—every bit of it.” Joe motioned to Rain, who walked over to Bear’s table.
Some of the tension left Victoria’s face when she saw him. He shuffled over, hat in his hand, his head bowed, his long hair in tangles.
Joe got to his feet, pulled out the fourth chair. “Have a seat, Bear. You’ve got something you want to say to Victoria, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” Bear sat, lifting his gaze to Victoria at last. “Hello, Victoria.”
“Hi, Bear. How are you?”
The question seemed to confuse him, or maybe he was just nervous. “Thank you,” he said after a moment.