Fifty-Seven

Two days later

“Hey, man! Welcome back!” Ben’s diner buddy slapped him on the back. “Oh, shit…did I hurt you?”

Fuck, yeah. Ben bit his lip. “No, I’m good. It’s been just over six weeks…goin’ a bit stir crazy, to be honest.”

“I’ll bet.” The server flicked through his notepad and looked over his shoulder at a table of seniors wearing Hamilton sweatshirts. “We’ve missed you…and we weren’t the only ones. All those school girls stopped coming when they realized you weren’t here.”

Yeah, that’s me, Mr. Popularity! Ben chuckled. “Well, I’m itching to come back. Is Stavros about?”

“Stavvy? Nah, he hit the road.”

“Ah, bollocks.” Ben sighed, stuffing his hands in his hoodie’s pockets. “I’ll try him tomorrow, then—”

“No, he’s gone, dude, like, no-longer-here gone. Family stuff.”

Concern darkened Ben’s eyes. “Oh, shit. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. They moved upstate…beginning of October.” His co-worker pointed to a stocky guy with muscles for days flipping through paperwork at a far table. “Talk to Ethan. He’s taken Stavvy’s place.”

Ben broke into a smile. “Oh, cheers, mate.”

His friend nodded at a customer waving for his attention. “Great seein’ ya, Ben! Let’s grab a beer when you’re back.”

“Definitely!” Ben weaved past diners and servers, pausing several times to say hi to his co-workers. A few new faces slipped past with meals aloft, but such was working life in a restaurant. The revolving door of employees was always spinning.

With a big friendly smile, Ben caught Ethan’s eye. “Hello!”

“Hi. What can I do for you?” A confident grin brightened Ethan’s face.

“Ethan, I’m Ben Fagan.” He offered his hand to shake and the diner boss accepted. “I worked as a server for Stavros.”

“Okay.” Ethan released Ben’s hand and cocked his head, his eyes straying and coming back, keeping tabs on the restaurant.

“I’ve been on medical leave for six weeks and I’m ready to come back. I realize my day shifts have been given to someone else, no worries—”

“Day shifts?” Ethan blew out his cheeks. “Sorry, but I don’t know who you are and we don’t have any jobs open.”

Who is this joker? Ben smirked and leaned in. “Stavros was holding my job for me. He was renewing my visa and—”

“Nope, no, sorry.” Ethan shook his head, his eyes escaping down to his invoices. “I don’t know anything about your visa.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me… Ben narrowed his eyes. “What?” His heart began to hammer in his chest. “Stavros had all the paperwork…”

Ethan chewed his lip. “Visa renewals went in for the kitchen staff, but Stavros didn’t leave immigration forms for any servers. Things have been slow since summer, and we’re in the middle of a hiring freeze. I had to let two staff go last week.”

This is a mistake. Surely he can fix it? “Okay, but look—Ethan—I’m a total grafter. I can work double shifts with no notice, and I’m popular with customers. You can ask—”

Ethan held up his palms. “Listen, Ben, I get it. Stavros made you a promise, but it’s not my fault he didn’t tell me. He left in quite a hurry and I guess some things got lost in the transition. My hands are tied. I wish I could help, but…I’m sorry. Look, I’m sure you’ll find something. If you need a letter of recommendation, gimme a call.” He grinned tightly and returned to his invoices.

With no visa, I’m fucked. Ben gulped, a sick taste burning his throat. What am I gonna do?

• • •

Hunter scratched his bare chest. Even in his cramped courier office, he worked half-naked. “Ben-dude, you okay? You look like you ate some bad shrimp.”

I’m sweating like I’m in a sauna. “I’m in trouble, mate.” Ben sagged into a chair. “The diner didn’t hold my job—they didn’t renew my visa. The three weeks left on it are tied to that job in that restaurant. I can’t legally work here anymore.”

“Jesus, yeah. Lose the job, lose the visa—and hey, good luck finding another restaurant to hire you and file paperwork in time.”

“Cheers.” Ben exhaled, worry gnawing at his gut. “That really makes me feel better.”

“Sorry.” Hunter grimaced as he shifted a bike made from spare parts.

“What the hell am I going to tell Riley?”

“Hey, maybe she’ll marry ya!”

“Fuck, I wouldn’t marry me.” Ben frowned and picked the peeling paint on the wall. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m crazy about her, but I’m nowhere near ready to be a husband.”

Hunter tapped his fingers against his lips. “Hmm, there is a guy I know who might need bar staff. Would be legit, too. He got that same visa for some guys a few months back. I saw on Facebook he’s chillin’ in Miami, but I’ll call him this weekend when he’s back.”

Hunter’s impressive contact list saves the day again. “Ah, that would save me. Thanks, mate!” Ben’s smile gave way to a yawn, his stamina still not back to normal. “And I’d really like to get back on my bike, do some deliveries—is that cool? Some tax-free cash would be really helpful.”

“Job’s yours, you know that, but you sure you’re ready to ride?”

“Yeah, no problem!”

“But they cut your stomach muscles, man.” Hunter picked up a spare tire. “I’m no doctor, but I know a bit about abs. You need your core to cycle. If your muscles aren’t completely healed, you should probably wait—”

“No, I’m good. Never felt better! I can start tomorrow…if that works.”

“I could definitely use you, but I dunno…”

“Hunter, dude, I’m ready!” Ben looked around the small room. “Where’s my bike?”

“The new guy has it.” Hunter’s phone began to ring. He motioned to three bikes near the door. “Grab any of those tomorrow.”

“Brilliant!” Ben’s grin faded as Hunter answered his call. But what if the bar job doesn’t come through…?

• • •

Ben set plates down on Riley’s tiny counter. I’m not hungry, not after the day I’ve had. “How was therapy?”

“Good.” Riley filled a tortilla with romaine lettuce, chicken, and Caesar dressing. “We talked about Pip leaving and me living alone again, and we did another CBT exercise together.”

“Coping strategies…that cognitive behavior stuff works, eh?”

“Yeah, it takes practice. It’s not easy replacing negative thoughts with positive ones, but I’m really trying. I feel like I’m rewiring my brain—in a good way!”

“Well, I think you’re amazing—and brave. Asking for help is a huge step. I’m proud of you, Riles.” Ben leaned over, kissing her temple.

“Thanks.” Riley glanced over her shoulder. “Last night was so quiet without the chaos of Pip.” She pouted. “I miss her.”

“Have you spoken yet?”

“Yeah, she landed two hours ago. Her first stop was Kermit the Frog’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”

“She really does live and breathe puppets, doesn’t she?”

“Yup.” Riley rolled up the tortilla while Ben filled glasses with tap water.

“What about Erika? Still off the radar?”

“Seems so. I texted again, but I guess out of sight, out of mind. What’s that phrase? Fair-weather friend? We were great as teenagers when everything was gossip and crushes on boys, but things got real two years ago with Mom and that’s not her scene. The Josh stuff didn’t help either…” Riley sighed. “It’s still sad, losing a friend.”

Ben rubbed her back and left a kiss in her hair.

She changed the subject. “How’s Hunter? I bet he’s happy you’re back.”

In more ways than one. “Yep. I’m a dream roomie compared to the bloke who stayed while I was at your mom’s. Get this—the dude was a naked sleepwalker! Freaked Hunter right out, which is ironic considering…”

Riley laughed. “Is he okay holding your job a little longer?” She sliced through the homemade wrap and placed half on Ben’s plate.

Shit. I knew she wouldn’t forget what the doctor said Monday: start back slowly, no heavy lifting, try riding a bike in the gym first.

“Yep.” Ben picked up a bottle of malt vinegar and doused the opening of his wrap. “But starting tomorrow, he’s paying me to organize his paperwork, answer the phone for a bit.” He slipped her a quick smile. “So, don’t worry, I won’t lift anything heavy.”