Bethany picks up hers. “Burger and fries.”
“They still as good as they used to be?” I ask.
“Yup.”
The waitress comes over. “You ladies decide yet?”
“I’ll have the roadhouse burger and steak fries, please. Medium rare,” Bethany answers.
I pass the waitress my menu. “Same. Thanks.”
After she leaves, Bethany leans forward. “So how did last night go? I heard you were pretty busy.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Brian drove past on his way home from work. He gets off at nine, so it was close to ten by the time he came through town. I wish he didn’t have to drive all the way to Stockbridge, but since he took over for Pete’s route, he’s been working weekends over there.”
I nod. Bethany married her high school sweetheart right after graduation. “Well, yes, we were busy. And some jerk had the nerve to pinch me. Can you believe it?”
Her brows rise. “What’d you do?”
“I threatened to take a baseball bat to him if he ever tried it again.”
“Wow.” She looks at me funny, like she knows a secret.
“What?” I ask, playing with my straw.
“Rita Carlisle called me this morning. Said she was up there last night. You remember her, she was in our English lit class, always wore her hair in a bun?”
I shake my head.
“She wore those red glasses and those funky nineteen-forties outfits.”
“Oh, right.” I frown. “I don’t remember seeing her last night.”
“She doesn’t look like that anymore. She’s, like, normal now. Anyway, she said one of the Kings of Carnage was up there last night. Is it true?”
“It’s true.”
The waitress returns with our food, and I can see Bethany is practically ready to burst with questions, but she waits until the girl walks away. Then, she leans forward. “So, spill. What happened?”
I squirt some ketchup on my plate, then dip a fry in the big blob and eat it, making her wait. I try to decide just how much to tell her. “He came in toward closing and asked Phil if there was a Michael Mooney working.”
Her mouth drops open. “Oh, God. First, even if he thought you were a guy, how did he know your name? Second, what did he want?”
“I don’t know where he got my name. He never said.”
Her eyes get big. “You talked to him?”
I nod. “We talked in my da’s old office.”
“You what? Are you insane? This guy could be a cold-blooded killer.”
“Oh, my God. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Still. Why would you let him in the office?”
“Because I didn’t want to talk in front of the entire bar.” I lift a brow. “Obviously, there are busybodies everywhere. Your friend Rita would have blabbed it all over town.”
“Drawback of a small town, Michaela. You know that. Everybody knows everything.”
“I don’t know how you stand it. That’s what I like about Atlanta. No one knows who I am.”
“Yeah, but that can be a drawback too. Doesn’t that ever get lonely? I kind of like running into people I know around town.”
I take a bite of my burger, refusing to admit she’s right about the loneliness.
“So, you didn’t tell me what happened. Spill, girl.”
“He said he knew my father, respected him. Did you happen to notice that motorcycle at the cemetery?”
She shakes her head.
“He was parked outside the fence by the road. Said he was there to pay his respects.”
She frowns. “Is that why he came by Mooney’s? To give his condolences?”
“Not really.”
“Then why?”
Before I answer, we both hear a rumbling sound and turn to look out the window. Two motorcycles pull up and back to the curb, the patches on the back of their vests clearly visible.
Bethany leans forward. “Rita told me one of them is involved with a waitress here, though I don’t think she’s working today.” She glances around the diner. “I don’t see her. What do you think they want?”
“Food,” I say. I recognize Sly immediately as one of the bikers when he pulls his helmet off and turns. “Oh, crap.” I avert my head, playing with my earring and trying to cover my face.
“What is it?”
“That’s him. The one who came in last night.”
She strains to see. “Which one?”
“The one on the red motorcycle.”
“Oh, my God. He’s cute. So is the other one.”
“Are they looking this way?” I hiss.
She shakes her head and I dare to peek. Just as I do, Sly looks over his buddy’s shoulder and spots me. Our eyes connect and a grin forms on his face and he winks at me. His buddy glances back to see what he’s looking at and then says something to Sly, laughing and slugging him in the shoulder. They both head toward the door.
I’m panicking inside. “Let’s go,” I blurt.
“But we haven’t even paid the check yet, and I still have most of my burger.”
“We can get to-go boxes.”
I hear the bell over the door tinkle and then it’s too late. Shit. Shit. Shit. I say a prayer, hoping they’ll take a seat at the counter and we can slip out. Hell, I’m even thinking of leaving Bethany to pay the check and dashing for the door.
Suddenly there’s a looming shadow before us, and as Bethany stares upward, her eyes get big. I can smell the leather before I even turn to look.
Sly is standing next to my side of the booth, grinning down at me while his friend is looking over at Bethany.
“Hello, ladies. Mind if we join you?” Sly asks.
Before I can answer, he’s sliding in and moving me over. I scoot across the vinyl seat, trying to create as much space as possible that I’m practically pressed against the window.
His friend does the same with Bethany.
Sly puts his hand along the back of the seat, invading my space as he snags a fry from my plate.
“Hey, those are mine,” I object.
He chews, grinning. “You’ve got a plateful. Didn’t your momma teach you to share?”
“We were just about to leave, if you’ll excuse us.” I glare at him.
“Introduce me to your friend,” he says, lifting his chin at Bethany.
I arch a brow and nod to his friend. “You first.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Always gotta be obstinate, huh? Okay, sure. Ladies, this is my club brother. You can call him Bouncer.”
“Bouncer?” Bethany repeats, staring at him.
He grins at her. “That’s right, beautiful. And what’s your name?”
“Bethany.”
“Beautiful Bethany. I’ll remember that.”
“Hey, Bethany, I’m Sly.”
She looks at both of them, then at me like she wants me to do something about this. I tried to tell her we needed to leave and shrug my shoulders to give her a See! Told you so look.
Sly reaches up and tucks a wisp of hair behind my ear. “I like the braid.” He toys with my hoop earring. “Gold looks good on you; real pretty with your hair color. I love the shade. It’s like a pale fire.”