The Boys Upstairs (Father Jay Book 2) by Jane Lebak

Author:Jane Lebak [Lebak, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: Philangelus Press
Published: 2016-02-10T05:00:00+00:00

Eight

At midnight on December 23rd, the restaurant owner approached Holly and told her she could have their leftover bread for the Caf. She dialed Kevin's cell phone and reached him at work. “I was wondering if you could stop by and pick it up so Jay will have it in the morning.”

“I don't think Jay wants to talk to me right now.”

Holly paused. “Could you just leave it with someone else? I'm not sure if I'll have a chance to get there tomorrow.”

Sounding reluctant, Kevin agreed.

The restaurant officially closed at midnight, but a group of six had been seated at eleven-thirty and was still finishing their meal. Holly had two tables remaining; the only other waitress on duty was Sara, with the party of six and no one else. Holly began cleaning up in preparation for closing.

At twelve-thirty, Kevin walked in the door, and Holly escorted him to the kitchen where Luis and Cassandra were putting together a box for St. Gus. There was the typical give-and-take between the restaurant owners and a police officer—here, have something on the house, no I can't, no please, I can't accept—

Sara rushed into the back with tears on her face. “Those creeps left me a religious tract for a tip!”

“They did what?”

“It looks like a twenty on the front, but it's an invitation to their church—”

Holly snatched it from Sara's hand and raced for the front of the restaurant. She heard the chair scrape behind her as Kevin got up.

His words hung in the air behind her: “Don't make me arrest you for assault.”

Holly didn't pause to grab her coat. It was easy to find the group in the parking lot. They hadn't yet gotten into their car.

“Excuse me,” she called, “but which of you is responsible for this?”

They all turned.

“A tract alone is not a tip.” Holly handed it to the man preparing to get behind the steering wheel. “I don't know where you come from, but in my world, waitresses need to pay for milk and bread with real money at the grocery store.”

The woman in the passenger seat stepped out of the car. “You cannot serve both God and money.”

“The worker is worth his hire. You wouldn't be happy with me if I were to go to your church and drop our take-out menu in the collection basket.” Holly folded her arms. It hadn't started to snow yet, but the cold was bitter. “Call it what you want, but what you did was theft of services. How you treat the poor man is how you treat Jesus himself. Your server stayed an hour late taking care of your party while her son is sleeping on her mother's couch. She has to tip out the busboys from your check whether you give her the money or not, so she actually lost money for the privilege of bringing you dessert and refilling your coffee.”

The woman looked shocked.

The man said, “I don't like your tone, miss.”

“I'm sorry if you don't like it. No one liked what Jesus had to say either because it was the truth.

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