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“Then let me get you both a drink. Sitting out here, doing the graveyard shift for minimum wage, you deserve a one or two.” He waved the card. “This is the boss’ expense account, and I’ve been given some leeway with what I spend.”
“You wanna get your drink on, pretty boy?” Charles asked, his hulking form filling the servery window. His brown eyes slid to me. “Looks like we’re gonna have a Christmas dinner after all.”
Chapter 2
Because it had been so dead, I was already well and truly on top of the cleanup for the end of my shift, and so was Charles. We moved together a few tables, with me grabbing tinsel and other decorations off the walls and festooning them across the surface.
“So what’s your name?” Charles asked the blond stranger, gesturing for him to take a seat at the head of the table.
“Shaun,” he replied, looking at the chair. “You sure? I can—”
“If you’re fitting the bill, you may as well take the place of honour,” Charles said with a broad grin.
He was a huge guy, his family originally from Tonga, which made me feel a lot more secure on late nights. He was as sweet as pie, a total gentle giant, except when he felt like someone was acting up. I’d seen him go from mellow to ripping someone’s head off, figuratively, in a matter of seconds, especially when female staff were involved. He was the cook and bouncer, all rolled into one out here.
“Now, what do you fancy? I’ve got turkey, ham, roast lamb, potatoes, pumpkin, peas and carrots with a honey glaze—”
“It sounds awesome, all of it,” Shaun replied, blinking a little at the proposed bounty. “I thought I’d be sleeping in the back of the truck after scarfing down a meat pie that’d been sitting in a bain-marie for three days straight and washing it down with a flat Coke. Any and all of what you described is fine by me.” His eyes flicked to me. “And anyway, it should be lady’s choice, right?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Well, a whole lot wanted to, but since it involved mashed potatoes being spread all over his muscular chest and gravy trickled over that before I licked him clean, I kept that to myself.
“You’ve never done us wrong before, Charles,” I said. “Let’s go with whatever you think’s best.”
“Three course dinner it is then,” he said, rubbing his hands together, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
“So, Shaun, another beer, or would you like something else?” I asked, getting to my feet. It felt weird, sitting in the big dining area, every table empty, the floor swept clean and mopped. The only view outside through the big windows was the artificial lights above the fuel pumps, the bugs buzzing around them, and a brief glimpse of the highway before it disappeared into the darkness.
“What kind of something else do you have?”
Shaun was acting like a normal guy. He was looking forward to a good feed, had obviously been driving his rig all day by the lines on his face, and had been given an expense account to go with his trip. There was nothing unusual about him looking for something a bit more top shelf, but… I looked back at him, saw those perfect turquoise eyes were on me, and noticed something hungry in that gaze. I didn’t overthink that, moving over to the bar and taking a look at the stock.
“We’ve got Jacks, Beam, Bundy. There’s a nice OP bottle of that.”
“OP Bundy and Coke sounds like a winner to me,” he said, settling back in his chair to watch me pull out a full bottle, some glasses, and a jug of Coke post mix.
“How do you like your drink?” I asked, cracking the screw top.
“Strong.” He was still staring, but his gaze had gotten flatter, more emotionless at that. “I…have trouble sleeping sometimes.”
“Fuck, tell me they don’t have you mainlining all that speedy weedy shit that most of the truckers take,” I said, realising as soon as the words were blurted out that it was probably not wise. If he were on track to become a tweaker, that was his business, surely. I handed him his drink, there being two shots of an already over proofed rum in it with some Coke to ease the burn. He held it and waited until I’d poured my own, before raising his glass to me. I did the same and then took a mouthful.
“No,” he said. “I don’t drive that much. The community I live in, they didn’t use to do much about Christmas before now, but some of the kids started getting excited about the idea, and so someone needed to go and pick up the orders. I’m single, don’t have a family waiting for me—”
“How the hell is that possible?” I muttered, only realising how loudly when he grinned in response. But that turned to something wondering as his brows creased.
“Most girls out here, they aren’t too friendly,” he said, nursing his drink.
“Oh, I’m plenty friendly.” Especially towards a fine specimen like you. “Gotta be, living in the boonies. I’m the same—no family, haven’t seen my friends in ages. If I don’t make the effort with customers, it gets awful lonely, y’know?”
My response had somehow turned into a question, one he was about to answer, leaning forward, long, well-formed fingers toying with the rim of his glass, his lips parting to tell me yeah, he knew all about that. Inexplicably, in that moment, I knew. Like when you look across a crowded bar, past all the people posturing and whooping it up, and your eyes lock on someone, someone who sees through all the bullshit, just like you do, who shoots you a secret smile, acknowledging a truth only the two of you saw. Of course, that was when the kitchen doors opened, swinging noisily on their hinges, and Charles deposited platters of finger foods in front of us.
“Helen, our boss, she thought we were gonna capture the lonely trucker market. Everyone stuck out here on Christmas Eve,” Charles said by way of explanation as Shaun stared at the bounty before us.
“We had some earlier on in the day,” I said, snagging some of the cabana, cheese, and pickle onion towers he’d put on toothpicks. “Nowhere near enough to warrant what was spent. That’s Helen,” I said with a shrug. “Lots of ideas but…” I looked around at the place. “Let’s just say neither of us are confident we’ll still be in these jobs in six months’ time. The drought has gone on too long. There’s not enough people coming out here anymore.”
Charles let out a long breath. It was something we’d talked about plenty as we saw the day’s takings
drop. Some days, it was all we had to talk about, as the hours between customers seemed to grow longer and longer.
