What You See (Sons of the Survivalist #3) - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,23

long as you’re reading something besides literary stuff. I read to escape reality, not wallow in it.”

Audrey’s eyes were dancing. “I feel the same way. We have a romance group, one for mysteries, and one for thrillers. Oh, and Tina and Lillian want to start one that’s only for subversive women.”

“I gave up on romance.” After Jaxson, she’d lost hope there were any nice guys in the universe. “But I love thrillers, and the subversive women’s group sounds like a blast.”

Books—and a way to meet people, gossip, and get information. Perfect.

“Awesome.” Audrey gave her details of the meetings and upcoming books, and Frankie entered everything into her phone. Where would she be without her smartphone to-do lists?

Audrey handed over the grocery receipt. “Your total comes to $105.83.”

“Aaah, right.” She waved her phone over the card reader. “I forgot that the price of stuff here was higher.”

“Sure is. Having to fly or ship everything in makes for high costs.” Audrey eyed Frankie with worry. “Working in the bar doesn’t pay all that well.”

“I’m doing all right.” Her savings account was quite healthy, especially compared to her sisters who’d blow their earnings on clothes, furniture, cars, vacations, and expensive alcohol. Crazy. She preferred quality over trends—and stocks and bonds over spending. Even if she hadn’t gotten the roadhouse job, she’d be fine.

But that wasn’t what a real server would say. To ease Audrey’s worries, Frankie said, “The tips have been good and will get better if the tourist season is as busy as people think.”

“It sure seemed that way last year.”

“Now that you’ve been here a year, do you like living in Alaska? It’s got to be different from Chicago.” Frankie snorted. “The whole town of Rescue has fewer people than are in my apartment building back home.”

Audrey’s eyes lit. “I love living here, especially because it’s so small. I feel like I belong, and I get to help decide what happens with the town. In Chicago, I was…oh, just another ant in a colony. One of the masses. Here, people know me. They notice if I’m ill. They worry about me.”

“Hmm.” Who would notice if I were sick? Hmm. The people at work—after all, her family was there. Then again, her sisters didn’t usually notice if she wasn’t feeling up to par. Aside from them—and they did love her, even if it seemed sometimes like that love came second to their careers—she had some good friends. Just not anyone she saw every day. “I think I envy you.”

“No need.” Audrey smiled. “You’re here now. Give Rescue a shot and see if you don’t end up staying forever.”

“You have book clubs and bars and friendly people. How could I not love it here?” With a grin, Frankie picked up her groceries and headed to the car.

Even as disquiet crept over her. Not return to New York? Leave her job?

Never. Uh-uh, never.

Chapter Six

Teamwork is essential; it gives the enemy other people to shoot at. ~ Murphy’s Laws of Combat

The next evening at the roadhouse, Bull noticed that Frankie hadn’t come in early. In fact, she not only showed up exactly on time but persisted in avoiding him. All her drink orders were handed to the other bartender.

Amused, Raymond shot Bull a grin as she headed off with a full tray. “She hates you and loves me. I like this.”

He couldn’t punch an employee as he would’ve if it were Gabe poking at him. “Maybe she only likes short, ugly men.”

Raymond made a hissing sound in pseudo-annoyance. Far from ugly, he was beloved of the customers.

Bull started building a black and tan, his gaze half on Frankie. Aside from steering clear of him, she was an excellent server. Efficient, didn’t mix up orders, kept the tables bussed. She was cheerful and friendly without flirting…and dodged the occasional roving hand without making anything of it.

Not that she should have to put up with that kind of crap, dammit. Case in point, the four college-aged boys down from McNally’s Resort who sat at a center table. They had more money than sense, and even their few wits had disappeared with alcohol.

“You’re so pretty,” one said loudly. “Want to go do something after you get off work?”

Frankie shook her head, enough that the gold hoop earrings danced against her neck. “Sorry, but I don’t date customers. Would you like a refill on that beer?”

In a typical one-upmanship move, the guy’s friend said loudly, “Hey, no need to date. How about we get together, and you sit on