Had she even noticed the name of the bar? She winced. “Yes.”
“You’ll have some regulars, like Duval and Pirate, who I was shooting pool with, and sometimes you’ll get a crew of bikers through. None of them like to talk about themselves.”
He said the last in a warning tone. That was fine. She didn’t want to talk about herself either.
“Mostly men, occasionally women, but only very occasionally. They come in to drink, play pool and watch sports. Sometimes there are fights, but you shouldn’t have to worry about that. They usually take it outside.”
“Good, because I would think one blow to those walls would send the whole thing collapsing.”
He grinned as he leaned into the oven. “It’s sturdier than it looks. Built in the 1970s.” He patted the side of the oven. “Okay, let’s see if we can get this going.”
So Erielle was back in town. Sam didn’t know why he’d expected she’d just send someone to dispose of the estate instead of coming herself. Wasn’t she a big-time chef in New York?
Instead, she was living in the run-down house, and working for tips at Rumrunner’s. He considered calling Susan to see what was going on, but for one, well, he thought someone’s private life should remain private, and for another, he didn’t want Susan grilling him over his curiosity.
He’d just been back in Phantom Bayou for too long. Not enough going on to challenge his brain, so he was resorting to speculating about other people’s lives.
He hadn’t missed the expression of betrayal on her slim face when she’d spotted him at Rumrunner’s. Up until that moment, he’d forgotten about why she’d been sent away all those summers ago.
He’d forgotten she blamed him. And clearly she still did. She had to know he’d made the right call, that he couldn’t allow his sister and her to go off into the swamp with guys they barely knew. He couldn’t be responsible for how her grandparents reacted, how her parents reacted. He’d been right, and he remained grateful that he’d learned of their plans in time.
But yeah, he’d never seen Old Man Benoit that upset before or since. Mrs. Benoit, either. And the next day, Erielle’s parents had come, and she’d never returned to the bayou.
Until now.
Surely that was not his fault.
Surely she understood that it was not his fault.
Nonetheless, his protective instincts were still in place. He’d be at Rumrunner’s tonight to watch over her, whether she liked it or not.
Three
Louis couldn’t getout of the bar fast enough. He gave Erielle the briefest of instructions on what he wanted done before she closed up, but she’d worked in restaurants enough to know the basic expectations.
The bar wasn’t too crowded, and Erielle spotted Samson right away near the pool tables. She wondered why he was back here this evening. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking. She hadn’t thought of him much in the intervening years, but now that she was back in Phantom Bayou, her resentment of him resurfaced.
She didn’t get much conversation from the patrons other than, “You’re sure prettier than Louis,” or questions about Louis’s whereabouts, which she answered as succinctly as possible. They bestowed tips begrudgingly, but gave nonetheless, and she’d made enough to pay for some gas, at least.
“How’s it going?” Samson asked, approaching the bar for only his second beer of the night, after midnight.
“Easier than I thought. So far no one has asked for a drink with more than two ingredients.” She held up a bottle of whiskey and the soda dispenser.
He grunted. “We’re simple guys.”
She leaned forward, her gaze traveling over the dozen male customers.. “Maybe we need to have a ladies’ night or something.”
He laughed. “Not many ladies around here who would be caught dead in this place. Might want to give up that idea.”
Literally all she wanted was to give up having ideas, but she had to figure out a way to make a living. A few gallons of gas was a start, but not enough.
Because Rumrunners didn’t boast a big crowd, she completed a lot of the closing procedures before she shut down the register. Samson was still at the bar when she ushered the other men out the door.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, turning to face him.
“Just want to see you get home okay.”
She shouldn’t have a negative reaction to a kind gesture, but she’d been taking care of herself for a long time. And the last time he’d been “looking out for her,” she got sent home to Arizona in disgrace. So forgive her if she didn’t accept his offer in the spirit it was given. “I’ll be fine, thanks,” she said through her teeth.
