Read Online Baby, Don't Go by Stephanie Bond - Free Book Online Page B

back to her, Marcus put his hands on his hips and heaved a huge sigh. Alicia frowned. It wasn’t as if the man had people lining up to cook for him—he should be grateful she’d work in his dinky little diner!
    He finally turned to look at her, then pulled his hand down his face.
    She glared. “If you’re going to fire me, then do it.”
    He settled his blue-eyed gaze on her and walked closer. “I can’t—” He stopped. “I mean, I’m not going to fire you. It’s my fault for expecting you to just walk in and know what you’re doing.”
    Alicia crossed her arms. “Is that supposed to be some kind of back-handed apology?”
    He straightened. “No.” Then pain flashed across his face and he gasped, putting his hand to his back.
    Contrite for setting off the events that led to his fall, she hurried toward him. “Are you okay?”
    He held up his hand, as if she were a contagion. “Just a pulled muscle. I’ll live.”
    She winced. “Sorry.”
    He didn’t look to be in a forgiving mood. “Forget it. Let’s just go over some things so Monday we can get through a full day of business with no mishaps. The Department of Energy rep will be here any day for another inspection, and the diner needs to be ready.” His brows furrowed. “In other words, not burned to the ground.”
    A sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it, reminding herself to act as if she wanted this job. So she simply inclined her head in concession, although the gesture sent her blood pressure skyrocketing.
    “Chances are,” he continued, “my brothers or I will be with the inspector, but in case he stops by on his own, you should know what to expect.”
    “What will the representative be looking for?”
    “Mostly, how we’re composting our leftover food and handling the recycling of our grease.”
    She made a face. “Okay.”
    “Follow me.” He lifted a stainless steel bucket of grease from the side of the grill by its handle, then with his other hand, rolled a large trash container marked “Food Only—No Meat” toward the rear door.
    “I can get one of those,” she offered, but he acted as if he hadn’t heard her.
    She pursed her mouth. If the man with the gimpy back wanted to go all Southern macho on her, then she’d let him. She smirked as he wrestled with the door while trying to manage the two containers. From his jerky body language, it seemed as if his mood was rapidly eroding. She followed him outside, at a distance.
    Next to the building sat two large plastic trash bins and a caged barrel. The midday sun was high and brutal. The humidity was cloying. Clumps of gnats hung in the air.
    She shielded her eyes and watched as Marcus stabilized the food container and set down the vat of oil.
    “This is our grease collector,” he said as he unwound a big elastic cord that held the cage door closed. Then he had to use both hands to lift a metal arm and open the door to the wire enclosure.
    “Why all the security?” she asked.
    “To keep the bears out.”
    She blanched. “Bears?”
    He nodded. “Finding a big barrel of grease would be like hitting the jackpot for a mother bear. So it’s important we keep this area clean and secure.”
    While he lifted the barrel lid and carefully poured in the used grease, Alicia walked closer to him and glanced all around. Now she had to add bears to the list of things to look out for? “What happens to the grease—assuming a bear doesn’t get it?”
    “A company comes to pick up the barrel once every couple of weeks, then it’s turned into biodiesel fuel,” he explained as he resecured the barrel. “We’re actually in talks with the company to enter into a partnership if the town moves forward.”
    She frowned. “If?”
    He frowned back as he closed the cage door. “I meant when the town moves forward and we have more collection sources. For now there’s only the diner and the school cafeteria.” He turned toward the two larger containers. “These are the