Pitch Perfect (7 page)

Bella gave him a curious look but then shrugged. “I offered, but she insisted that she could do it alone. I finally gave up trying. She should do okay now that the big lunch rush is over.”

Cam nodded and then remembered her pitiful pile of change. “Where is she staying?” He hated to think of her without someplace safe to live.

“Ohhh . . .” Bella arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re concerned, Cam.”

“Just curious.”

“Right . . .”

“Hey, my only concern right now is baseball,” Cam insisted as he took the menu from her.

“Sure it is.” Bella pointed to the ceiling. “She’s living in the apartment upstairs. Well, I’d better get back to my post.” She gave him a wink and then glanced in Mia’s direction and shook her head when Mia dropped a handful of straws onto the floor. “See ya at Sully’s tonight?”

“Maybe.” Cam nodded absently and then concentrated on his menu, but after a few minutes he realized he wasn’t reading selections but listening to the asshats bitching at Mia. He ground his teeth in an effort not to get involved. A moment later Mia rushed over to his table. Her eyes widened when she recognized him.

“Oh, hi,” she said a bit breathlessly and pushed at a lock of her hair.

“So you’re working here?” When she gave him a deadpan look, he grinned. “Okay, stupid question.”

“May I get you something to drink?” Her tone was cool and professional but had a nervous edge that made him want to say something reassuring, but he didn’t.

“Just water.”

“Lemon?”

“No, thanks. I don’t like fruit in my drinks.”

“Okay, one water coming up.” When Mia poised her pencil in front of her pad and licked her lips, a hot stab of longing slid directly south. Damn, the girl looked fine even when she was flustered. “Do you need a minute or are you ready to order?”

I’ll have you,
popped into Cam’s brain and made him shift in his seat. “What’s today’s special?”

“Pot roast, mashed potatoes, and your choice of one side. You can add a salad for one dollar. One dollar! Can you believe it? Oh, and the glazed carrots are simply divine.”

“Sounds good.”

“Oh, and may I suggest a nice glass of merlot?”

Cam almost laughed, but she was so sincere that he couldn’t make fun of her. “Uh, no, thanks. I think I’ll stick with the unfruited water.”

“Okay.” She frowned. “So does that mean that you want the special?”

“I’m not sure. Bring me a tossed salad to start with. Thousand Island dressing.”

“Excellent choice,” she said, as if he was dining in a five-star restaurant.

“Thank you,” Cam answered in a fake-serious tone. “It was a tough decision.”

Mia pressed her lips together. “I can imagine. Jessica makes it from scratch. Well, she makes all of her dressings fresh. I watched her. It was fascinating.” She drew out the word and did this little hand-flip thing that looked so out of place with her job that Cam almost chuckled. He had seen the same kind of irritating phony gestures from countless rich women, yet Mia seemed sincere, causing Cam to be . . .
charmed
?

Nah, couldn’t be! He was merely amused. And yet . . .

“Oh, I’ve been telling everyone.”

“Telling everyone what?”

“That just about everything here at Wine and Diner is made from scratch with no preservatives. Most of her vegetables are organically grown and many of them purchased locally when in season.”

“Good to know.” Cam had to hide his grin. Mia Money was cute enough to get big tips even if she sucked at serving.

“I’ll be right back with your salad and beverage.”

“Thanks.” Cam watched her walk away with more interest than he wanted to have in a woman. Not only did he find her as sexy as hell, but he was intrigued as well. Her manicure, flawless skin, and glossy hair screamed
pampering
, and yet here she was waiting tables while her battered old car got repaired. And while she had that air of confidence that came with having wealth, she also had a nervous edge that had Cam wondering just what she was running from.

Cam looked back down at the menu and grinned at the bits and pieces of local folklore and Kentucky recipes peppered throughout the extensive selections. New versions of standard classic diner favorites gave the restaurant fresh appeal without losing the throwback charm. He usually just ordered a burger or the special, but he decided to branch out and try something different today. With that in mind he studied the extensive choices.

“Wow.” Cam felt his heart lurch when he saw Stone Soup listed on the menu along with a sidebar explaining the timeless fable. His overworked mother had often been too tired to pay much attention to Cam, but once in a while she read a bedtime story to him before he went to sleep. A battered book of fables had been his favorite, and seeing Stone Soup sent an unexpected ache of sadness straight to his heart. His mother would sometimes end the story by ruffling his hair and placing a quick kiss on top of his head. That simple gesture was as close as he ever felt to being loved.

Cam sighed at the memory. Other than late at night, his mother was mostly absent, working no-end double shifts that paid very little but required lots of hours. Fatigue often made her testy, causing Cam to stay out of her way as often as he could. He had played lots of sandlot baseball, since his mother couldn’t afford a real uniform on a Little League team, and yet he attributed his real love of the game to that experience versus squabbling parents and only-playing-to-win coaches.

“Here’s your water and your salad.”

Cam looked up in surprise. “Oh . . . thanks.” He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he’d failed to see Mia approach his table. She seemed a little flushed, and when she gave the rowdy group of guys a nervous glance, he frowned. “Are those dudes getting out of line?”

“They’re just a bunch of arrogant . . .” She paused and got a thoughtful look on her face before rolling her eyes and adding, “Ass clowns!”

Cam arched one eyebrow. “Ass clowns?” Even though Cam found her assessment of the
ass clowns
amusing, he wasn’t convinced that they weren’t bothering her, but he firmly reminded himself not to get involved. Odd, but after first meeting Mia, Cam would have thought that these guys were the type she would have hung around with, and yet she seemed annoyed. “Really?” He observed her expression closely, but she scrunched up her cute little nose and nodded.

“Absolutely.” Mia gave him a slight grin, but he thought it looked a little bit forced. “Have you decided on your entrée?”

“I think I’ll have a bowl of Stone Soup.”

“That’s all? Soup and salad?”

“You might be able to convince me to have dessert.”

“I recommend the apple crisp. Myra made some early this morning. The kitchen smelled so amazing that I was afraid that simply inhaling would put on weight.”

Cam was about to tell her that she didn’t have anything to worry about on that score, but one of the ass clowns was flagging her down.

“Hey, this Coke is diet,” he complained and shoved the glass in her direction.

“I’m sorry, I thought you asked for diet.”

“Well, you’re wrong again. And this ketchup bottle is empty.” He shoved it at her as well.

“I’ll get you another one.”

“Hurry up. We’ve got places to be.”

“I will.”

When Cam noticed a little quaver in her voice, he stabbed his fork into a cherry tomato with more force than needed.

“And you forgot the extra pickle on my burger.”

“Okay.”

“And how about some hot sauce, baby,” one of them said in a smarmy tone that set Cam’s teeth on edge.

“Coming right up,” Mia said and turned on her heel.

“You’d better hurry or you’ll get stiffed. But then again, maybe you’d like that.”

Mia stopped in her tracks and whipped around so fast that Diet Coke sloshed over the rim of the glass. “That’s enough!”

“Really?”

“Yes. This is my first day on the job, but I have had enough of you!” Color was high in her cheeks, but she stood her ground. Cam held his breath, hoping the asshats would shut up.

“Oh, baby, it’s never enough. Come sit on my lap and find out.” He put his hand suggestively on his crotch.

Well . . . damn!
Cam felt anger thump against the inside of his chest and barely refrained from springing to his feet. “Hey, treat her with respect or leave.”

“Fuck off, dude.”

“I mean it,” Cam warned in a calm tone, but his heart was pounding. He simply could not sit back and listen to them any longer, but the last thing he needed was a damned fight. He didn’t want to get injured or land his ass in trouble! Plus, there were three of them and one of him . . . not that it had stopped him before. Cam held his breath and hoped they would shut the hell up.

“Cam, it’s okay,” Mia said in a worried tone. “I think they’ve been drinking,” she added in a stage whisper.

“We have,” the streaky blond one said. “And we’re just getting started. My boat is docked at the marina. Wanna go out with us, babe? I’d love to see you in a bikini.” He curved his palms suggestively and licked his top lip.

“That’s it,” Cam growled and pushed to his feet. He sure wished Myra or Bella would come forward to toss them out on their ears, but neither of them was around and the diner was mostly empty.
I’m on my own
ran through his head, but wasn’t that the way it had been all his life?

“I thought I told you to fuck off,” the streaky blonde sneered. “Unless you want your ass kicked.”

“Get the hell out of here, pretty boy.” Cam pointed to the door, and all three actually scooted back from the table. When they stood up, Cam felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. While they might have him in numbers, Cam was big and buff and had spent a lifetime learning how to be intimidating. He flexed biceps encircled with barbed-wire tattoos and sent them the patented scowl he used to rattle pitchers. He gave Mia a meaningful glance, hoping she would go find Myra or some big burly line cook, but she stood there wide-eyed and rooted to the spot, clutching the Diet Coke in one hand and the empty ketchup bottle in the other. He wasn’t about to actually ask her to go for help, and so he planted his feet and got ready.

“Let’s bounce,” the tall one said as he tossed a couple of twenties on the table. When his pretty-boy posse nodded in agreement, Cam felt his tense muscles relax a fraction. It appeared that he was going to avoid a fight after all. Wow . . . that would be a first!

6

Bloom Where You Are Planted

G
O FOR HELP
SLAMMED INTO MIA’S BRAIN, BUT HER FEET
felt glued to the floor, and although her lips moved, her vocal cords failed to respond. Hopefully they would just . . . leave. Mia had never been exposed to anything like this before, and she suddenly had empathy for the women in the service business who had to put up with this kind of sexist crap. No one deserved to be treated like this! She narrowed her eyes at them, and the heat of anger began to thaw out the cold, hard ball of fear lodged in her throat.

To think that just a few days ago she had been lounging poolside chatting with her friends about going to Paris for the weekend to shop for clothes. Now all she longed for were some sensible shoes meant for standing all day long. Mia suddenly thought about all of the people who bent over backward each and every day to make her life cushy and felt a sharp stab of guilt. Until today she couldn’t remember the last time she had broken a sweat.

Mia held her breath while watching the little drama unfold. Surely those guys weren’t going to mess with Cam. It suddenly occurred to her that she knew the type all too well—all mouth and money—and it made her feel a little queasy. Were these the types of people that she hung out with? The thought made her clutch the ketchup so hard that the bottle deflated, causing the top to shoot off with a loud pop. That noise drew Cam’s attention, giving the streaky-haired jerk the opportunity to lunge forward and take a swing at Cam’s face. Mia saw it coming and with a little squeal she tossed the Diet Coke in his tanned face . . .

Oh, make that his tanned, stunned face.

“You little bitch!” He yelped and, blinking furiously, started swinging wildly, connecting with nothing but air. Cam dodged his flailing fists, but when his friends suddenly jumped into the fray, it was another story. One of them caught Cam with an uppercut to the chin, and the tall one clipped his shoulder, making Cam stumble backward and bump into a table. Meanwhile, Coke in the Face recovered and connected with Cam’s midsection.

Mia saw red and with a little squeal threw the ketchup bottle at Coke in the Face. It connected with his head with a not surprising hollow thump, sending him into anger overload. He actually swung at
her
 . . . big mistake, because this turned Cam into a fighting machine. He swatted the three of them away like pesky flies, but drunken idiots that they were, they kept leaping back into the fray, bumping into each other in their efforts to throttle Cam. Mia watched wide-eyed at Cam’s ability to keep them at bay without really getting winded. Oh, but then she spotted the tall one grab a big sugar dispenser and heft it over his head. When he lunged at Cam, Mia let out a scream of warning and jumped onto his back.

“You . . . you jerk. Put that down!” She started swatting at the sugar dispenser from behind, but he held it just out of her reach. He swirled in a circle in an effort to shake her, but Pilates had made her legs strong. “Put that down!” She hung on and started batting at his head.

“Get off me, you crazy little bitch!”

“Don’t call me that!” With sudden inspiration she grabbed his ears and yanked hard and was rewarded with an oath. He tried his best to dislodge her, but she hung on to his ears until he was pleading with her to stop. “Really, who’s the little bitch now?” Mia challenged, even though she had never uttered such a thing in her entire life. “Huh?” It felt empowering to fend for herself, and so she tugged harder, hoping he’d look like Dopey after she was done with him. “Say it!” she demanded.

“Ouch! Say what?” He bucked and spun like a big old bull, but Mia held on tightly.

“Say that you’re . . . whoa . . . sorry!”

“What in the world is goin’ on in here?” Myra shouted above the pandemonium.

Mia’s attention was diverted by Myra’s angry hands-on-hips stance, and Mia unfortunately loosened her grip just as he shook her sideways. “Oh nooooo!” Mia went flying through the air in what could have been a pretty cool twirling dance move, except there was no one to catch her. Somehow the protect-yourself-from-dying part of her brain sounded the red alert and she had the sense to tuck and roll to the ground. She landed with a resounding smack on her backside and spun in a circle three total times before coming to a slow-motion stop at the rubber soles of Myra Robinson.

Coke in the Face, Tall Guy, and the other dude took the opportunity to bolt out the door. “Hey, get back here!” Mia shouted, but they ran like the hounds of hell were after them.

“Mia?” Myra asked in a low and not at all happy tone. “Answer my question!”

Mia swallowed hard and slowly raised her gaze to her employer of one single day. “They started it,” she replied in a small voice. “Those guys were being really mean.”

“Mean . . .” Myra gave her a stern stare.

“Yes.” Her answer sounded lame and childish even though it was the truth. “Weren’t they?” She looked over to Cam for help.

“Yeah,” he agreed. When he reached down and offered his hand, she grasped it firmly. After he tugged her to her feet, she noticed with a frown that his bottom lip was swollen and bleeding.

“Oh my gosh! Cam!” Mia grabbed some napkins and handed them to him. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” He gingerly dabbed at his lip.

“Those jerks!” she said darkly before turning around to face the music.

“Are you gonna quit your pussyfootin’ around and tell me just what exactly happened here, Mia?” Myra wanted to know. The hands on the hips remained, as did the arched eyebrow.

Mia opened her mouth, but before she could explain her innocence . . . well, not her innocence exactly but the reason she had been hanging on to the back of a customer attempting to stretch his ears, the front door swung open. To Mia’s dismay a police officer the size of a refrigerator came lumbering into the restaurant. And he wasn’t smiling.

Oh boy . . . She flicked Cam a glance, and he didn’t look happy either.

“Hey there, Bo Mason.” Myra greeted him with a tight smile. Mia wondered if that was a good or bad sign.

“Myra, there was really no need to call the police.” Mia felt her heartbeat accelerate and she gave the rotund policeman a once-over. Handcuffs dangled from his belt and he had a mean-looking gun poking out of the holster. “I can explain.” Mia swallowed hard and imagined a cold, damp cell with dinner on a metal tray and a stinky toilet exposed to the view of the rest of the scary inmates. She glanced at the door, thinking she should run like the wind. Her shoes, however, were not made for waitressing, or running from the law, and so she dismissed that idea almost immediately. At least for now.

Plus, being a fugitive from the law after two days away from home? Oh boy, her father would have a field day with that one. She turned her questioning gaze back to Myra.

“I didn’t call anyone.” Myra raised her palms in the air. “Bo, what brings you here?”

Please say you’re coming in for a late lunch!
Mia pressed her lips together and wondered if she should offer him a menu to distract him.

“Got a frantic phone call that some customers were being assaulted by a blond waitress named Mia.” He paused and gave Mia’s temporary name tag a pointed look and then turned his attention to Cam. “And a big dude with a bad attitude.” Bo hitched his pants up and blew out a big sigh. “Just so you know, I am the town sheriff, not the po-leeece,” he announced with an air of importance. “I am an elected official and have the best interests of this town right here.” He patted his chest. “So now, just what do ya’ll have to say for yerselves, I wanna know?”

“They started it!” Mia sputtered. She looked at Cam and hoped he would step in and take over, but he gave her a discreet negative shake of his head and so she took the hint and shut her mouth.

“Started what, now?” Bo whipped out a pad and pencil. He licked the tip and stood there with one bushy eyebrow cocked and his pencil poised and ready. Mia hadn’t had any actual run-ins with the law unless you counted a parking ticket, but she thought back to television crime shows and knew she had the right to remain silent, and so she did. “You gonna answer me, girlie?” Bo boomed and gave her a thunderous stare that made a shiver slide down her spine.

“They were . . . were harassing me!”

“Harassing you?” Bo scribbled something on his pad and then looked at her expectantly.

“Yes!”

“How so?”

“They were asking me for . . . stuff!”

“Well, you are a waitress, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Then it’s your job, right?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“And did you throw a soft drink in the customer’s face?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“And a ketchup bottle directly at his head?”

Mia swallowed. This wasn’t going well.

“Mia?” Myra angled her head in question.

Mia glanced at Cam for help.

“They were giving her a very hard time,” Cam spoke up, but there was a tired tone to his voice, almost like he had given up trying to defend himself.

“Giving her a hard time by asking her for . . . stuff?” Sheriff Bo’s sarcastic tone got under Mia’s skin. “Like what stuff?”

“Hot sauce!” Mia replied and wanted to elaborate, but her face felt as if it were on fire.

“So . . . ?” Sheriff Bo prompted.

Mia leaned forward. “In a smarmy, suggestive way, and then said I would be . . . be . . .
stiffed
!”

The other bushy eyebrow rose and he said, “As in no tip for poor service?”

Myra gave her a sympathetic look, not unlike many looks she had gotten from people who thought she was nothing more than a pretty face without a brain. “Honey, you do know what that means, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“And then you got really angry and tossed the Coke in his face?” The sheriff asked.

“If you let me answer, I’ll explain!”

“Don’t you give me any sass, girlie.”

“I know my rights!” Mia said, even though she had no clue.

“Really now?” The sheriff started scribbling on his pad, making her nervous.

“Yes!” Mia pressed her lips together and wondered if this was when she was supposed to say that she would like to call her lawyer. But whom would she call and what would she use for money? Contacting her father popped into her mind. He would get her out of this sticky situation in nothing flat. Money had a way of doing that. But then she thought of those arrogant jerks, who were likely roaring away on their big boat, laughing their butts off while knowing exactly what was happening. An
innocent
little waitress was getting grilled by the law, and an
innocent
bystander was taking the heat for their bad behavior! It wasn’t right!

“Mia?” Myra demanded in a stern tone.

Mia looked to Cam once more for help. He had been man enough to stand up for her, so why was he backing off now?

He glanced away as if gathering his thoughts and then said, “They were rude and obnoxious.”

“And just who are you anyway?” the sheriff wanted to know.

“Cameron Patrick. I play for the Cricket Creek Cougars.”

“And you think your celebrity status gives you license to rough up customers?”

“He was the one roughed up!” Mia pointed to Cam’s swollen lip. She looked at Myra, who had seemed like such a cool lady, and hoped for some support. “Myra, he was defending me!”

“Were there any witnesses?” Myra asked in a more gentle tone. “Bella maybe?”

Mia shook her head sadly. “I don’t think so. The lunch rush was over. Whoever was here had all left, and I think Bella took a break.”

“Probably ran them out,” the sheriff commented. “Myra, just how much do you know about this here girl?”

Mia’s eyes widened at her employer.

“Mia, I warned you that you would be fired if you caused any commotion.”

“I know, but . . .”

“You should have come to me if those boys were harassing you.”

“I was trying to handle things myself instead of running to you for help. And then it all happened so fast. Are you really going to fire me?” Mia swallowed back tears. Fired after one day? She was such a loser! “Myra, they were really being terrible to me!”

“Did they touch you?” the pesky sheriff asked.

“No, but—”

“Physically threaten you?”

“Not at first, but—”

“Oh, then after you threw the ketchup bottle and jumped on someone’s back?”

“He was going to assault Cam!”

“With what?” the sheriff asked. “Did he have a weapon?”

“A sugar dispenser!”

“So he was going to sweeten your boyfriend to death?” The sheriff stopped writing and snickered at his lame joke.

“Bo, that was uncalled for,” Myra warned.

“Aw, come on, Myra. Don’t ya see what was goin’ on here? Those boys were flirtin’ with his little girlfriend here and he got all fired up.” He pointed his pencil at Cam.

“You weren’t here and that’s not what happened,” Cam responded tightly.

“Boy, don’t you go giving me any lip.” Bo planted his big-booted feet and lifted his double chin. “I won’t stand for it.”