Ryker (Hope City #6) - Kris Michaels Page 0,56
her head in response. Man, what did he do to deserve a woman like her? He couldn’t think of a damn thing. But that was okay. He’d take this gift and treasure her as long as God saw fit to allow him to breathe.
Brie drove into her parking slot and put her SUV into park. Her eyes went to the back door of the restaurant and a smile sprang at the sight of the camera installed above the door. She pointed to it. “Roger got it installed.”
“That’s good. He hasn’t told you of anything else happening out here, right?” Ryker unfastened his seatbelt as he spoke.
She opened her door to avoid looking at him. “He hasn’t said a word.” Which wasn’t a lie. She’d never told him about what happened to her, but she knew Roger would call her if those two assholes were intimidating anyone else. Since talking to Bekki, the dots connecting the two assholes and Councilman Davis seemed to make sense. Bullying and intimidation for graft or kickbacks. How many businesses were paying the man just to exist?
A silver SUV entered the alleyway. Ryker exited the truck, and after they both shut the doors, she locked the vehicle. “That’s my ride.” He tugged her in and dropped a sweet kiss on her lips. “I look forward to spending more nights together. But remember, if you need to be here, I understand.”
“See, the thing is, I really don’t. They are doing just fine without me. If I change my hours, they’ll continue to do well. But tonight, I may be late. I have a weeks’ worth of paperwork to get through.” She rose on her toes and kissed him again. The SUV coasted to a stop beside them and Lieutenant Theron rolled down the window. “Ready to go? Hey, Brie, how are you?”
“I’m good. Take care of him for me?” She chuckled at the bear-like growl Ryker made at that comment.
“No worries. I’ll keep him out of trouble.” Terrence laughed at the middle finger Ryker presented him.
“I’ll see you at the apartment later.” He kissed her one last time. A dark green late model car drove up behind the SUV and honked politely. Ryker glanced at the car and then back at her. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. Get going before you cause a traffic jam.” She watched him get into the SUV and waved as they departed. The middle-aged couple in the car waiting behind the SUV waved to her as they followed the SUV from the alley.
She jogged to the stairs and entered the morning chaos of a kitchen prepping for service. Someone shouted a greeting and then welcomes and questions swamped her. The sense of belonging and of community wrapped around her like a comfortable sweater that warmed her down to her soul.
She stopped by the station where her chef was working. “Roger, when you get to a point you can take a break, come in so we can talk?”
He glanced up for a minute from the vat of bolognaise he was stirring. “Sure. The receipts are on your desk, separated by day. Last night’s drawer is in the safe. There are a couple issues we need to talk about, but I’ve managed workarounds for them until you can devise something better. We’re booked for three weeks solid for dinner service and we’ve sold out of specials five out of the six days for lunch service.” He grabbed a spoon from one of the many containers near his station and tasted his creation. “Needs more garlic and salt. Give me some time to make this right and I’ll pop in. Your office is open and your keys are on your desk.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” She opened the door to her closet-sized office and drew a deep breath. Stacks of paperwork neatly arranged with stickies on the top of each showing the day the papers arrived sat waiting for her. She draped her purse handle on the back of her chair and sat down. Time to make up for the week she’d taken off. The paperwork version of penance.
She blinked and looked up at the knock on her door. “You ready?” Roger stood in her doorway. He was wiping his hands on the towel that hung from his apron.
“Sure. Everything here is self-explanatory except for the receipts from vendors we haven’t used before. I’m assuming we are still having problems with our primary vendors?” Three vendors, to be exact.
“Yeah. It isn’t ringing true in my books. I