The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.50 Nothing worth fighting

I had a 5:00 shift at the restaurant tonight so Becky went home and I got ready.

It was chaotic, but controlled- as usual. I smiled and waved and laughed at horrible jokes. As usual. I kept wondering: is this how I’m going to look when Louis walks and I make my deal with him? Free desert to free Harry.

Is this how I’m going to look when the cops come in dragging Harry’s half-conscious body- beaten and cuffed?

Or am I gonna get out of here and do something?

I looked over at the door and clutched my name tag.

Carlo cleared his throat close behind me.

I turned back to “work.” I walked by the bar to head for the kitchen, but something caught my eye.

He sat there quietly on one of the bar stools, sipping a murky liquor I doubted he could pronounce.

“Liam?” I asked, even though I knew it was him. I just couldn’t believe that it was.

Liam looked up at me slowly, dizzily. He nodded and leaned his head against his hand.

“Surprise to see you here, Angie” he laughed. But there was no laughter in his eyes.

“Liam, what are you doing?” I asked with slightly worry. Liam didn’t drink and he especially did not go to bars.

“Havin’ a drinkkk” he replied obviously as he slid his empty jug at the bar tender, who filled it up right away.

“Liam-” I started to protest, but I felt someone tug at my arm.

“Angela, the money’s not gonna fall from the Heavens” he reminded me with a hard nudge.

“How long has he been here?” I asked Carlo when we were out of earshot.

Carlo shrugged his shoulders.

“Couple weeks” he replied as he chewed on something black that smelled of horse radish.

“A couple weeks?!”

“Yeah, just about every night”

"But I don’t remember seeing him that often” I replied quietly, almost shamefully. How did I not notice Liam?

“No, but he’s seen you. The kid’s a mess.  A rich mess. What did you do? Break his little heart?” Carlo asked with a greedy gleam in his black eyes.

“No, don’t tell me, teenage drama gives me gas” he admitted with a burp.

I scrunched my nose and inched away from the stench of the smell of rotten eggs and dishwater.

I turned to look at Liam again. How had I not noticed him? Was I that self-absorbed? Was I that much like- like Daisy?

Carlo snapped his sausage-like fingers in my face.

“Chop, chop, sweetie. It’s show time” he winked and he pushed me along to the front of the restaurant again.

I rolled my eyes and turned away from Liam- or- whoever that ways because that was not Liam.

I turned to smile and wave and laugh at a new group of customers. They were older men in suits and ties that cut off the circulation to their array of well-fed beer bellies. They reminded me of my dad’s “brothers:” slimy but too slick to be caught.

“Hello and welcome to Lorenzo’s” I greeted with such false warmth, I felt my cheeks freeze.

The man leading the group had wiry grey-brown hair and beady blue-black eyes.