Best Friends (New Species #15)(2)

“Nope.”

“They look kind of serious today.”

Mel glanced around the soda dispenser to peer at the group. They were all leaning forward, one of them talking softly as the others listened intently. The men did seem a bit tense.

She dropped her gaze and placed a drink on a tray. “Don’t sit anyone else in that section, Mary. They probably want privacy.”

“Got it. More tips for me.”

Mel glanced back at the other side of the restaurant. “You wish. Tom over there always leaves a dollar. Macy will give you three bucks. You might do well with the flirty trucker if you tug your shirt down to flash some cleavage and lean low to refill his coffee. Flirting back a little will help, too.” She grinned. “I heard him tell you that he’s single and looking for a good woman.”

Mary elbowed her. “That’s not funny. He’s old enough to be my grandfather.”

“You want an experienced man, right? Well, there you go. Maybe you should start dating him.”

“You’re going straight to hell for saying that,” Mary muttered. “That’s not funny at all.”

“Mama? Is that you?” Mel glanced at her friend and winked. “Sorry. You sounded just like her.”

“Oh, screw you! You’ve told me all about your mother.”

“And that’s why I no longer live in Indiana. I only have to deal with her every other week by phone now. She’ll never come to California. Last time we spoke, she said everyone who lives in this state is a bunch of lunatics, trying to get folks to smoke dope or turn them into sinners.”

Mary passed her another glass filled with ice. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah. She asks me every time I call home if some man has talked me into making a dirty sex video for some fast cash yet. She’s terrified I’m going to show up on the internet and humiliate our entire family. According to her, that’s what happens to pretty girls out here.”

“Wow. What do you tell her?”

“That she’s making me sad because I haven’t been propositioned by a porno director. Then I tell her I’ve been practicing moaning and fake orgasms, just in case.”

Mary shook her head. “You don’t really say that, do you? You’re kidding, right?”

“I so do. She’s praying for me, though.” Mel beamed as she lifted the tray. “Her church group is, too. I’m so loved.”

Mary chuckled. “That’s just mean.”

“No. It’s called payback for my childhood. Her and her group of friends tormented me growing up. It’s their turn.”

Mel circled Mary and returned to the New Species. They stopped their conversation as she approached, waiting until she passed out the drinks around the tables. “Your sandwiches should be up fast.” She emptied the tray and glanced around. “Just ketchup with the fries or does anyone want me to bring some ranch dressing? BBQ sauce?”

“We’re good,” one of them stated.

She returned to the kitchen and grabbed napkins for their table on the way. In minutes, Joel had their orders ready. Mary showed up to help her carry all the plates on two of their largest serving trays. Mel noticed how nervous her friend looked.

“I’ll keep my body between you and them. Just stare at my back and pretend they aren’t there.”

Mary wrinkled her nose. “It’s just…”

“You’re a big chicken when it comes to New Species. Nobody is going to attack you. Just carry the tray, stay behind me, and I’ll hand out the plates and napkins.”

“What are you talking about?” Joel asked.

“Nothing. Girl talk.”

Mel went out first, with Mary on her heels. She passed out the plates of food, making sure the feline New Species got his tomatoes. Mary fled quickly when she was done, taking away the empty trays. “Anything else?” Mel glanced at their barely touched drinks.

“This is perfect. Thank you.” The blond canine who seemed to be in charge smiled but she got the impression he didn’t want her hanging around.

Message received. She spun away and headed toward the front counter. There was always silverware to wrap.

She crouched down behind the counter to get a pile of clean cloth napkins. Motion caught her eye as someone on the sidewalk approached the front doors. She lifted a few inches to get a better look. It was two men.

They both gripped handguns close to their stomachs.

Mel froze, a jolt of fear shooting through her.

She was tempted to jump up and rush the doors to try to lock them out but instantly realized she’d never make it in time. Even if she did, they’d just shoot the lock open, or worse, open fire through the glass. It was better to call for help.

She dropped the napkin and fell to her hands and knees, crawling toward the register and keeping her head low. They wouldn’t know she was there unless they’d glimpsed her head pop up for that second, or if they leaned over the counter.

She made it to the register and snatched the phone under the shelf. She dialed 9-1-1 and placed it to her ear.

The bell rang on the front door, telling her they were inside the diner.

“Hands up!” one of the men yelled.

It took a few seconds for the call to connect, and then it rang. She bit her lip, heart pounding. It wasn’t the first robbery she’d experienced. She’d survived two while living in Indiana, working for a place right off a main highway. Being right under the register was a bad place to be but necessary.