Angels Fall

eyes that were more gray than blue.
    "You cook?" A smoker's rasp made the brisk question oddly sensual.
    "Yes:"
    "For a living, or just to put something in your mouth?"
    "It's what I did back inBoston —for a living." Fighting nerves, Reece ripped open the cover on the tea bag.
    Joanie had a soft mouth, almost a Cupid's bow, in contrast to those hard eyes. And an old, faded scar, Reece noted, that ran along her jaw-line from her left ear nearly to her chin.
    "Boston." In an absent move. Joanie tucked the dishrag in the belt of her apron. "Long ways."
    "Yes."
    "I don't know as I want some East Coast cook who can't keep her mouth shut for five minutes."
    Recce's opened in surprise, then closed again on the barest curve of a smile. "I'm an awful chatterbox when I'm nervous."
    "What're you doing around here?
    "Traveling. My car broke down. I need a job."
    "Got references?"
    Her heart tightened, a sweaty fist of silent pain. "I can get them."
    Joanie sniffed, frowned back toward the kitchen. "Go on back, put on an apron. Next order up's a steak sandwich, med-well, onion roll, tried onions and mushrooms, fries and slaw. Dick don't drop dead after eating what you cook, you probably got the job."
    "All right." Reece pushed off the stool and, keeping her breath slow and even, went through the swinging door at the far end of the counter.
    She didn't notice, but Joanie did, that she"d torn the tea bag cover into tiny pieces.
    It was a simple setup, she decided, and efficient enough. Large grill, restaurant-style stove, refrigerator, freezer. Holding bins, sinks, work counters, double fryer, heat suppression system. As she tied on an apron. Joanie set out the ingredients she'd need.
    "Thanks." Reece scrubbed her hands, then got to work.
    Don't think, she told herself, just let it come. She set the steak siz-zling on the grill while she chopped onions and mushrooms. She put the precut potatoes in the fry basket, set the timer..
    Her hands didn't shake, and though her chest stayed tight, she didn't allow herself to dart glances over her shoulder to make sure a wall hadn't appeared to close her in.
    She listened to the music, from the juke, from the grill, from the fryer.
    Joanie tugged the next order from the clip on the round and slapped it down. "Bowl of three-bean soup—that kettle there—goes with crackers.
    Recce simply nodded, tossed the mushrooms and onions on the grill, then filled the second order while they fried.
    "Order up! Joanie called out. and yanked another ticket. "Reuben. club san, two side salads.
    Reece moved from order to order, and just let it happen. The atmosphere, the orders might be different, but the rhythm was the same. Keep working, keep moving.
    She plated the original order, turned to hand it to Joanie for inspection.
    "Put it in line," she was told. "Start the next ticket. We don't call the doctor in the next thirty minutes, you're hired. We'll talk money and hours later."
    "I need to—"
    "Get that next ticket." Joanie finished. "I'm going to go have a smoke."
    She worked another ninety minutes before it slowed enough for Reece to step back from the heat and guzzle down a bottle of water. When she turned, Joanie was sitting at the counter, drinking coffee.
    "Nobody died," she said.
    "Whew. Is it always that busy?''
    "Saturday lunch crowd. We do okay. You get eight dollars an hour to start. You still look good in two weeks, I bump in another buck an hour. That's you and me and a part-timer on the grill, seven days a week. You get two days, or the best part of two off during that week. I do the schedule a week in advance. We open at six-thirty, so that means first shift is here at six. You can order breakfast all dav, lunch menu from eleven to closing, dinner, five to ten. You want forty hours a week, I can work you that. I don't pay any overtime, so you get stuck behind the grill and go over, we'll take it off your next week's hours. Any problem with that?"
    "No."
    "You drink on the job, you're fired on the spot."
    "Understood."
    "You get all the coffee, water or tea you want. You hit the soft drinks, you pay for them. Same with the food. Around here, there ain't no free lunch. Not that it looks like you'll be packing it away while my back's turned. You're skinny as a stick."
    "I guess I am.'
    "Last shift cook cleans the grill, the stove, does the lock down."
    "I can't do that," Recce interrupted. "I can't close for you. I can open, I can work any shift you want me to work. I'll work doubles when