Studying the mirror in the employee break room, I smoothed my ponytail one more time and eyed the makeup. It still didn’t feel all that natural to me, but after coaxing from several of the other servers, I’d finally started wearing some—nothing heavy. There was no point to going heavy here. With all the rushing back and forth from the kitchen window to the tables, I’d end up sweating off anything other than some mascara and some light eye makeup. I kept a tube of so-called long-lasting lipstick in my pocket and had finally gotten in the habit of touching it up every few hours.

“Looking good there, cutie!” Stephanie popped up in the mirror next to me, grinning.

The infectious curve of her lips was impossible to resist, and I found myself smiling back at her. “Not sure if it does much good, but hey, I’m trying.”

“Do you feel good?” she asked. Her spiraling curls spilled out of her high ponytail and bounced with her movement. “Like how you look?”

I studied my reflection and considered it, then nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Then it’s doing good. Go with it.” She slung an arm around my neck and hugged me. “Come on. Let’s get to it. So far, it looks sloooowwww out there. We’re probably going to spend a lot of time rolling silverware and napkins.”

“Oh. Joy.” I rolled my eyes.

Stephanie surprised me with a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek as she laughed. “You said it!”

An hour later, a mountain of rolled napkins bearing their neat bundles of silverware sat piled up next to me. I had a small section with only four tables occupied, and I kept an eye on them, getting up every few minutes to check on them.

A gust of cold wind blasted in as somebody opened the door. Since the last table seated had been in my section, I didn’t bother looking up. I rolled a few more napkins, added them to my pile, then got up to round on my section. I frowned when I saw a new customer had been added. I’d just had a table seated so the next one should have gone to Stephanie. Glancing over at the host, Leslie, I arched a brow.

She shrugged and pointed at me. “Asked for you,” she mouthed.

I eyed the woman’s profile again. I was almost certain I didn’t know her.

Grabbing a menu and fetching a glass of ice water, I made a wide circle around my section, checking on my other patrons as I made my way over to her. “Hello,” I said as I finally reached her table. Putting the menu and water down, I smiled. “How are you doing today?”

She tipped her head back and smiled at me. “I’m doing fine. You?”

“Can’t complain,” I told her. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll just stick with the water.” She pinned me with a direct look. “Are you the same Tish who goes to a grief support group?” She named the church that hosted the group and cocked a brow, waiting for an answer.

Warily, I lowered my tablet. “Why are you asking?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She nodded to the empty seat across from her. “Any chance you can take a few minutes?”

I barely managed to contain the snort. “Right now? I just got here an hour ago. I get a break, but not for three more hours.”

“Okay.” She got up, laid a ten-dollar bill down. “I’ll be back in three hours. I hope you can give me some time then.”

I had food waiting for me when my break rolled around. I half-expected the brunette not to show, but practically as soon as I picked up my meal, the door opened, and she came inside.

The early dinner rush was on, but more staff had arrived, so I was free to take my break.

She caught my eye and lifted a brow.

Stephanie saw me and nudged me with her elbow. “Go on. Grab your lunch and have a seat. We’re not that busy. I’ll cover your tables.”

I’d mentioned the weird interaction to her earlier, and Stephanie and I had both tried to figure out whether the woman would come back. Now that she had, I had no doubt my co-worker would be curious as to what she wanted.

“Go on,” Steph said, angling her head toward the brunette. “See what she wants.”

I collected my plate of fish and chips from the window and turned around. I nodded to the woman and gestured to a table in the far corner where it was quiet. As she slid in to join me, I asked, “Do you want anything to eat?”

“No. I’m fine.” She folded her hands in front of her.

In the blink of an eye, I found myself the subject of an intense study, her eyes shrewd and thoughtful.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” I asked warily, smoothing a napkin over my lap.

She pursed her lips and drew them off to the side, that thoughtful expression still on her face. “I hear you pissed my brother Sean off this weekend.”

Several seconds passed before those words actually made sense. Looking down, I studied the dish of food in front of me and selected a French fry. Popping it into my mouth, I chewed it slowly, then took a sip from my soda before looking back at her. “Your brother. The grouchy guy who came in looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Yeah.” She cocked a brow. “I hear he tried to talk you into making it look like he’d attended three months worth of meetings. You told him no.”

“Three months?” I selected another fry and dragged it through some ketchup. “I didn’t count. But, yes, he did ask me if I’d sign the whole sheet, and yes, I told him no. If that’s a problem….”

She cut me off with a laugh. “No. Oh, no. It’s definitely not a problem.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling as she leaned forward, elbows braced on the edge of the table. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t want to be there, but he needs to be there.”

Sadness flickered in her eyes, but it was banished quickly.

I reached for my drink and took a sip. “You realize you can’t make him accept help.”

“No. But I’m hoping if he’s in the right…environment, maybe he’ll open up, sooner or later. He’s not a hard man. At least, he wasn’t always. He needs to be around people who can understand what he’s going through.”

“He isn’t going to open up easily.”

She blew out a breath. “I know that. Okay, so.” She flashed a bright smile at me, and in it, I saw something that reminded me of her brother. A compulsive sort of charm, the kind that invited me to join in on the joke with her. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Okay…” I said slowly.

She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. “I’ll be upfront because I don’t like it when people withhold information from me. I had a family friend do a background check on you.”

I jerked reflexively. “You what?”

“Sorry.” She winced, guilt dancing over her features. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it was necessary.”

“It wasn’t,” I said sharply. “There’s nothing about me you can’t find out by asking.”

“Yeah, but…well, I needed to know what I was dealing with before I even considered asking. Otherwise, I was probably wasting my time.”

Her cautious, soft tone had me sitting back in my seat. My food sat cooling in front of me. Irritated, I grabbed a fork and cut into the fish. Scooping up a bite, I shot her an irritated look. “Asking me what?”

Instead of answering immediately, she opened the envelope and shuffled several pictures out onto the surface of the table. They fell out, face down. “You lost your parents earlier this year. There was a fire at the bookstore.” She lifted her gaze to mine and stared at me solemnly. “I’m sorry. I lost my mom when I was a kid. But I can’t imagine losing both my mom and my dad.”

“Yeah.” The food I’d just managed to swallow sat in my belly like a lump, but I gamely made myself take another bite. It was going to be a long four hours before I clocked out, and I’d rather not work on an empty stomach.

“Sean…he…” She blew out a soft breath and looked away. “He lost somebody earlier this year too. And he’s become…reckless. Dangerous. I’m worried about him.”

She was serious. The truth was written on her features, obvious for anybody who looked at her.

“I can try to keep talking to him at group…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Briar.” She offered a wry smile. “Sorry. I’m usually a little more focused than this.”

“You’re worried about your brother.” I gripped my fork tighter so I couldn’t reach out to squeeze her hand. “It’s understandable.”

“I am worried about him,” she admitted, pressing her fingertips to her temple. “And that’s why I want your help.”

“Like I said, I can try to talk to him at group, but I can’t make him accept help. That’s up to him.”

“I know.” She leaned forward. “We’re working on it. But for now…” She sucked in a breath, then blew it out, her lids drifting down. When she looked at me again, there was a certain, determined focus in her gaze. She continued to talk.

Five seconds later, I half-choked on a bite of food. Sucking in a gulp of air, I grabbed my drink and chugged, clearing my throat. Once I felt like I could speak without sputtering, I blinked and focused on the face of the woman across from me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

No, I thought instinctively.

But that wasn’t what I said. Turning over the words she’d said to me before I’d almost gagged myself on some excellent fish and chips, I tried to figure out if maybe I’d misunderstood her, but I didn’t see how that was possible.

“I’m sorry…but what did you just say?”