Max by C.J. Duggan Page B

if he wasn’t that emotionally invested,
he turned his eyes upward to watch the TV. I took the moment to quickly
sidestep away and dart through the restaurant to the kitchen where I hit the
door at run, not so much worried about being late.
    “You are soooo lucky,” said Penny, glancing up at the wall
clock. “Melba isn’t back from visiting her sister in the hospital yet.”
    I grabbed for my apron, working to fill the sink up quickly
and get into position. “Oh, please don’t tell her I was late.”
    Heather laughed. “Your secret’s safe with us, honey. You put
Melba into a bad mood we all cop it.”
    “Where were you anyway, did you get lost or something?”
Penny laughed, dumping a stack of dirty dishes in my filling sink.
    “Yeah, or something,” I said, my thoughts far away.
    Come on, Amy, stop sunning yourself and get to bloody
work.
    Nine plates, twenty-four forks, eighteen knives, eleven
spoons, three frying pans and an oven tray later, Amy glided in through the
door on a sigh and a smile. As if she didn’t have a care in the world.
    “Melba still not in?” she asked, grabbing for her apron near
the door.
    Drying my hands, I moved to grab her arm, stilling her from
walking in the kitchen. I pulled her through the door into the restaurant.
    Amy seemed disoriented, maybe because I had waited all but
two point five seconds to pounce on her.
    “Hey, you didn’t ring the pub pretending to be Ben?” I asked
lowly.
    Amy looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you for real? Do you
honestly think I could pull off a masculine voice? Gee, thanks.”
    “You didn’t get Sean to, or anyone else? Like, no one else
knows, right?”
    Amy eyes narrowed. “Where do you think I had the time to do
this? I haven’t told anyone, you asked me not to so I haven’t.”
    “But someone called the pub pretending to be Ben Erickson.
Max told me to give him a call as soon as I got in.”
    “He actually said Ben Erickson?”
    “What difference does it make?
    “It’s probably just someone being a dick, we get prank calls
all the time.”
    “ Maybe,” I said, but it still didn’t make me feel any
better.
    “This is not a summer camp, ladies!”
    We both jumped at the unexpected sound of Melba’s voice
filtering out over the restaurant, as we watched her waddle her way toward the
kitchen.
    “A group of twelve have just wandered in looking for a feed
so less talk more work.”
    She cut us an acidic look as she pushed past us through to
the kitchen door. Amy didn’t need to raise her brows at me; I knew exactly what
that look meant. It was going to be a long shift.

 
    Chapter
Twenty
     
    Max
     
    After Greg nodded his farewells and good lucks I was left
alone in the bar; a slow shift meant for a spotless bar and a fully stocked
fridge.
    There was nothing on TV, but who needed that when there was
such live entertainment as watching the look on Mel’s face.
    Priceless.
    I might have felt a little bad, if she hadn’t slammed down
her mere moment of surprise and lied in response—lied so effortlessly.
    As cool as you like she said she would call him after her
shift. Now I know she was lying directly to my face it made my resolve even
clearer. I would have to up the ante.
    Before I had a chance to start thinking too deeply on how I
could make Melanie Sheehan squirm, the phone rang.
    “Onslow Hotel, this is Max.”
    “Max, Bluey, mate, how’s things?”
    “Ha! Can’t complain.”
    “I was just checking in to see how Mel’s settling in.”
    My mind flashed back to Mel being in the foetal position on
the staircase landing, a small smile lining my lips as I scratched the back of
my neck.
    “She has made herself quite comfortable.”
    “So she’s behaving herself then?”
    “Yep, no dramas. She’s helping out in the kitchen, doing a
pretty good job by all accounts, too.”
    “Yeah, nah look, mate, she’s a goer, not afraid of hard
work, that’s for sure.”
    “Just like her old man, hey?”
    “Ha! You know