"Me too. I'll talk to you later," Kane said and hung up the phone. He only sat there a minute before he forced himself to begin his day.
Chapter 10
"Someone got laid last night. Dude! About time," Rodney said as Kane walked through the restaurant, officially three hours late. He had to give Rodney credit, his hands never stopped working the glasses into the ceiling rack of the bar. His eyes did narrow, examining Kane's face as he got closer. "You drank, too? A fuck and alcohol. Whoa, man! Give me five!"
"You don't know that," Kane said, shoving his sunglasses up on his face, ignoring the outstretched hand. He'd only worn them in a lame attempt to hide his bloodshot eyes. Of course, a bartender could pick up on someone with a hangover—it was usually his handiwork that created the situation.
"I absolutely do know. You're late, wearing sunglasses, squinting, and walking funny. Let me see your eyes," Rodney said, rounding the corner to get a better look.
"Paulie! Your boy's here," Rodney called out to Kane's retreating back.
"I seriously think you need to be fired," Kane said, pivoting back on his heels, shocked at what Rodney had just done. What the heck was Rodney thinking calling Paulie out here!
"Whatever. Paulie, he's been drinking. He needs to be in trouble," Rodney called out, crossing his arms over his chest, grinning big as Paulie came through the kitchen door, drying his hands off with a kitchen towel.
"Rod, leave the boy alone. He needed a good drunk fuck," Paulie said, his gravelly voice completely amused.
"I'm standing right here. I can hear everything you say," Kane said to both of them.
"He's walking funny, too," Rodney said, hitting Paulie in the shoulder. "Show him how you're walking funny, Kane."
"That's it. This is completely inappropriate. I don't ask you about your sex life, I don't need you asking me." Kane went straight through the back doors to his office.
"I wasn't askin'. See how he's walking, Paulie?" Rodney made a big production, calling out after him. Kane could hear Paulie's cackle all the way back to his office. For good measure, Kane slammed his office door and then winced at the loud bang. Why had he done that? Not a smart move considering his present condition. Kane dropped down in his desk chair, pulled out a few more aspirin from his desk drawer, and downed them dry. The clock chimed noon, sounding very much like church bells reverberating right through his office. He let out an unsteady sigh, and prayed the medicine kicked in soon; he never let himself drink that much. He hadn't been at the restaurant for ten minutes and this already felt like an incredibly long day. The knock on his door had him narrowing his brow.
"Who is it?" Kane barked.
"Philip," the new waiter called out.
"If you're alone, you can come in," Kane said, pulling the receipts from last night's totals.
"Rodney said you needed this?" Philip said, bringing him a large piece of foam packing material from the wine bottles shipped into the restaurant.
"What for?" Kane looked up, clearly confused, but took what was being offered.
"He said you needed it to sit on." Philip looked sincere, but the bark of laughter from the other side of the door showed the kid had been set up. Kane stifled a chuckle, because Philip still didn't understand what he had done, or why it was so funny to everyone now gathering in his doorway. Kane tossed the foam and the kid out of his office and slammed the door again with a smile on his face.
* * * *
Avery sat on the end of the bar at La Bella Luna, perched on the barstool he'd taken up residence on for the last couple of hours. Out of nothing more than desperation, and his inability to stay away from this man, he'd shown up at the restaurant around nine thirty. Kane and his crew didn't seem to mind him being there, so that was where he stayed—at the bar, out of the way of the busy dining room. Rodney kept him company as he could and supplied him with endless information about Kane. The more Avery heard, the more he liked.
Kane, for his part, pretty much ignored Avery—other than the first few minutes after his arrival at the bar. Kane went on about his night, running the restaurant like a well-oiled machine. There was nothing Kane couldn't do, no part of the operation he didn't jump in and help along when needed. If the kitchen got behind, he cooked. If the bar needed help, he mixed drinks. Kane cleaned tables, served food, and sat customers all with the patience of Job.
Rodney kept Avery's signature drink, Chivas and water, full, and Avery had drunk several glasses over the last few hours. He was a believer in the benefits of drinking before bottoming. If this continued between him and Kane, he'd get more accustomed to the invasion, but for now, he needed the liquid encouragement and relaxation.
Avery popped a few peanuts in his mouth as Paulie came out of the kitchen, pulling off his cap, and took a seat beside him. He didn't remember Paulie being so short or wrinkled when they'd previously met at Avery's table. Avery wondered if he might have been in the military at some point. He'd guess a sailor. His arms were tattooed up and down, his voice was harsh and gravely, and he was very direct, in a good way.
"So you're interested in my boy?" Paulie asked, angling up on the stool beside him. Rodney placed a whiskey in front of the man before he ever fully took the seat.
"Yes, sir, I am," Avery said, matching Paulie's sideways glance, trying to hide the grin forming. For all of Kane's baggage with his biological family, he sure had a group of solid people in this restaurant all looking out for him.
"Are you a good guy or one of those hippie free-lifers?" Paulie asked, the disgust clear in his voice. Avery barked out a laugh, so did the bartender, but Paulie's expression made it clear he didn't see the humor.