Chapter 1: Evie

1

EVIE

T aking one last look at the Help Wanted sign, I took a deep breath and entered the diner. I desperately needed a job, but I could only work under certain conditions, and I hadn't had any luck finding a place willing to meet those conditions. I was quickly running out of options.

Taking a seat at the counter, I pushed my sunglasses closer to my face and glanced around the room. The place was busier than I expected for the middle of the day.

"What can I get ya?" a woman asked, appearing out of nowhere and causing me to jolt in my seat. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"I saw the sign in the window and would like to apply for a job. Is the manager here?" I asked.

"You're looking at her," she smiled. "I'm Irene, manager and owner."

"Hi," I said and extended my hand. "I'm Evie. What positions do you have available?"

"I need a server. Full-time hours, probably more. Minimum wage plus tips. Are you interested?"

"Yes, but…," I started and paused. I wasn't sure how to ask for what I needed. "I, um, when I asked about a job at the gas station on the corner, uh, they told me to come talk to you."

She gave me an appraising look and lowered her voice. "Let me see what's behind those glasses."

I froze. I didn't want to remove my sunglasses, but something told me it might be the key to getting this woman to employee me. Slowly, I slid the glasses down my nose, allowing her to see my bruised and swollen eyes.

Her eyes narrowed briefly before her face softened. "You're hired. You can start tomorrow."

"But I?—"

She waved her hand dismissively. "You don't have to explain. I know why Gus told you to come see me. You got a place to stay?"

"My car," I said quietly.

"Well, it's nothing fancy, but I got a place you can rent," she said and patted my hand.

"I don't have money for rent," I admitted, overwhelmed with shame. I was broke, beaten, and begging for help. Everything I never wanted to be.

"I know, honey. We'll work it out," she said. "Let me get you something to eat while I clear out a few tables. Then we'll go over to your new place and get you settled. You like cheeseburgers?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you," I said.

"Great. I'll be right back."

I sat there wondering what had just happened. It seemed too good to be true. A job and a place to live. I thought I would be living in my car for months, if not longer. And I was okay with that. Anything was better than still being in Fairbanks.

Sooner than I expected, a plate with a cheeseburger and fries appeared in front of me. "I forgot to ask what you wanted to drink."

"Water, please," I said.

She raised and eyebrow. "Is that what you really want? Or did you say water because it's free?"

"Sweet tea, please."

She smiled. "Coming right up."

Who was this woman, and how did she seem to know everything?

"Thank you." I hoped she knew I meant it for more than the meal.

"You're welcome," she said and gestured to the food. "Eat up while it's still warm. I'll be finished soon."

I almost groaned when I took a bite of the cheeseburger. All I had eaten since I arrived in town was vending machine and gas station food. Before I could stop myself, I inhaled the burger, followed by the fries.

"Did you get enough?" Irene asked, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

I nodded. "It was delicious. Thank you."

"Good. Let's go take a look at your new place. Drive around back, and you can follow me there."

"How much do I owe you for the meal?" I asked.

She shook her head. "It's on the house."

"But—" I started to protest.

She held up her hands to stop me. "You can't tell your customers how good the food is if you haven't tried it."

"Okay," I conceded. But I made a mental note to find some way to pay her back.

I climbed into my car and prayed Irene didn't live far from the diner. I had less than a quarter of a tank of gas, and I needed it to last until after my first shift.

Thankfully, it was only a short drive to our destination. Irene pulled into a long driveway that led to a moderately sized one- story house. She continued past the house and came to a stop in front of a cute single-wide trailer at the back of the property.

"Here we are," she said when she got out of her car. "It's not completely furnished, but there's a bed, a small couch, and a kitchen table."

She unlocked the front door, and I followed her inside. As she said, it was minimally furnished, but I didn't need much. Just a safe place to rest when I wasn't working.

"What do you think?"

"It's perfect," I breathed.

"Great," she said and extended her hand. "Here are the keys. Since I'm assuming you need to be paid under the table, how about this? Instead of paying you an hourly rate, you can work for tips only and live here rent free."

"Deal," I said and held out my hand.

She took my hand, shook it, and pulled me in for a hug. "Your shift starts at seven tomorrow morning. I'll see you then."

"What about this?" I asked and gestured to my eyes.

"You had sinus surgery. It went well," she said and nodded once. "See you in the morning." With that, she was gone.

I stood there for several minutes and took in the silence, the peacefulness. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. I could only hope it would last.

I tried to cover the bruises with what little makeup I had, but there was no point. I looked like hell, and there wasn't much I could do about it. Hopefully, people would believe the sinus surgery story.

I arrived at the diner fifteen minutes before seven. There were already a few customers at tables and two at the counter. Irene smiled when she saw me. "You're early. Ready to start?"

"Yes, but I don't really know what I'm doing," I admitted.

"That's okay. You can spend a few hours with me until you get the hang of it. It's pretty simple," she said and gestured for me to follow her. She went to her office, where she rummaged around in a cabinet before she tossed something to me. "I forgot to give that to you yesterday. Remind me to give you a few more before you leave for the day."

I unfolded the T-shirt and held it up to look at it. Irene's Diner was printed across the front with a retro-style design.

"You can change in the employee bathroom across the hall. There are lockers in the break room for your stuff. A couple of them are empty. You can have whichever one you want," she said.

I hurried across the hall and changed into my new shirt. It was the first new piece of clothing I'd had in a long time. Even though it was a work shirt, I was still excited. I hurried to the break room and tossed my old shirt into an empty locker before returning to the kitchen.

Irene nodded in approval when she saw me and handed me an apron to tie around my waist. Next, she gave me a pen and a small notepad. "Ready?"

"Yes," I nodded eagerly.

"Let's go," she said and glanced at her watch. "It's time for the morning rush."

She wasn't kidding. Within minutes, it seemed, the place was packed with people waiting at the front for a table to become available. I followed along dutifully and paid close attention to everything she did. She greeted many of the customers by name and even knew what most of them were going to order.

"It's not as hard as it looks. These old farts are in here at least four days a week. It doesn't take long to have it memorized," she told me. "It helps if you come up with a system. Like that table over there. I call them the four farts. Then I pair their order with a prominent feature. Bald eggs, hairy pancakes, ear gravy and biscuits, and bearded breakfast burrito."

With a scrunched nose, I burst into laughter. "I may never eat breakfast foods again."

"I know, right? It's a win-win strategy. I remember their orders without eating myself out of house and home. I mean, my food is delicious, if I do say so myself."

After the crowd died down, Irene sent me off to take care of a few tables on my own. To say I was nervous was an understatement, but I was determined to do a good job. I had to. My survival depended on it.

I'd barely had a chance to breathe when the diner started filling up again.

"Time for the lunch crowd," Irene announced. "It's the same routine as the morning, except with burgers instead of biscuits. We'll tackle the major rush together and split up like we did earlier when it settles down."

We stayed busy taking orders, filling drinks, and serving food. Table after table. Irene definitely wasn't hurting for business.

When she gave me my own tables to wait on, I felt more comfortable than I did at breakfast. The customers were easy-going and pleasant, and that helped put me at ease.

I was behind the counter putting in an order when I heard Irene hang up the phone and curse.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Marcy's supposed to work the evening shift, and she just called in sick," she grumbled. "I know she's not sick. I swear, as soon as I get another server in here, I'm canning her ass."

"I can stay and work," I offered.

"I don't want to wear you out on your first day."

"Please. I'm happy to help," I said sincerely. She'd gone out of her way to help me mere minutes after meeting me. It was the least I could do. Plus, it was an opportunity to earn more money.

"If you're sure," she said reluctantly.

"I am," I promised.

"Well, at least take a break while you have a chance and get yourself something to eat. Order whatever you want on the house," she said. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. She counted it out and handed a stack to me. "Here's your half of the morning and lunch tips."

"Thank you," I said and tried to keep my eyes from bulging out of my head. I didn't know how much it was, but I knew it was much more than I'd expected to make. I clutched it in my hand and stared at it for a few long seconds before I shoved it in my pocket and took my first break of the day.

"You did great today," Irene said as she locked the front door and turned off the open sign. "I hope you're still going to come back tomorrow."

With my hand in my pocket, I ran my fingers over the wad of money. "I'm definitely coming back."

"Good," she smiled. "It doesn't take long to close. We'll be out of here in no time."

After we finished, she handed me my cut of the evening tips and two more T-shirts. "I don't have any more in your size. I'll have to order some. If you don't have a clean one, just wear a plain T-shirt that day."

"Is there a laundromat nearby?" I asked. I'd only been in town for a few days and didn't know where anything was.

"My washer and dryer are on the back porch. It's closed in, so I'll need to give you a key. You can come up to the house and wash your clothes whenever you need to."

"Thank you," I told her, for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"Happy to help," she said. "You ready to go?"

"I'm ready if you are."

"Let me check on the guys in the kitchen first," she said and disappeared through the swinging door. She returned moments later. "They're good. Let's roll."

I followed her back to her house and waved as I continued down the driveway to my new home. Once inside, I went straight to the bathroom to soak my feet in the small bathtub while I counted my tips.

When I climbed into bed, I was exhausted and thought I'd fall asleep quickly, but I didn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Randall's dead body. When I finally did fall asleep, my dreams were filled with Muzzle and Snarl promising to find me and do horrible things to me before they killed me.

After waking up numerous times throughout the night, I was relieved when it was time to get up and get ready for work. Being awake and tired seemed better than being asleep and terrified.