Maid For Beckett Catching The Baseball Legend’s Heart novel Chapter 57

-Andi-

I think Siobhan and Lila thought what they were wearing would help them blend into the crowd, but they were both head- turners even in baggy shirts and jeans. And even in the distance, Cole and Beckett ooze appeal even in their casual clothes. For a change, Beckett was wearing a Mariner’s baseball cap, trying to conceal his identity from the crowd.

The sports anchor announced the game was about to start, and I woke from my trance of watching Beckett and his friends find a vacant table. They don’t see me yet. I can still make myself invisible, but this blonde chick just can’t stop barking orders.

“New girl,” she called as Greg fixed the drinks on her tray. “Why are you still standing there? Do you want me to tell Paul to fire you on your first day?”

Does she even have that authority? I turned to Greg, and he just tipped his chin up at me in response. That’s my cue to follow what this chick was saying and ask him for details later.

My notepad was heavy in my apron pocket; my pen seared through the fabric as I left the comfort of the bar and walked towards the group of new customer who occupied the table in my section. I’m so damn lucky Beckett and his friends took a table far from my line.

Blond chick doesn’t have to tell me to do my work, and I will work even if she doesn’t bark orders at me.

I made my way to the first table and asked everyone what they would be having, then I went back into the bar to ask Greg about the blond chick.

“Who is the new queen of the Old Town Tavern?” I asked Greg as he began working on my orders.

“She’s with Paul,” he murmured, lips twisting in dismay.

“Oh,” I hummed. That explains a lot. Paul was in his fifties, divorced, with two kids who were the same age as that blond chick. We’ve met a couple of his flings from time to time when he brings them here to drink, but this was the first time his girlfriend was working at his bar. “Why was she working here?”

Greg shrugged. “Maybe Paul was done giving handouts to his girlfriends.”

“Hmmm, maybe,” I echoed as my eyes slid towards Beckett’s table. He was already looking my way, and I felt the lump in my throat growing exponentially fast. There were too many people between us, but the magnetic pull he has over me was so powerful that I couldn’t even take my eyes off him, even if I wanted to.

Siobhan noticed me then; her smile was bigger than a Cheshire grin. She waved at me, motioning me to come to their table. That’s my sign that no matter what I do, I can’t avoid them. They know I would be here. How? I’m not sure, but I’m sure that they came here to see me.

Lila followed Siobhan’s gaze. Now there were two of them waving at me over.

“You know them?” Greg asked as he finished the drinks on my list.

“Not really,” I lied.

“Seems like they know you,” Greg added. “I think you should go to them. Tara doesn’t like seeing customers calling the

server’s attention.”

Tara. So that’s the blond’s name.

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“That’s not my section,” I said and picked up my silver tray and carefully delivered the drinks to the table. I moved to the next and avoided looking at Beckett’s table as hard as I could.

When I was at my third table, Tara was waiting for me at the bar. Her sharp gaze told me that she wasn’t just there to get drinks. She’s there to bark orders at me again.

“I saw that,” Tara started. “You shouldn’t ignore the customer, new girl.”

I skirted past her and handed my order to Greg. “That’s not my section,” I explained calmly.

“But they were calling you,” Tara insisted. “Go there. Now.”

I leveled her with a stare. She raised an eyebrow at me. I willed myself not to make a scene. It’s my first day, and I’m already on the bad side of our boss’s new girl.

‘Calm down, Andi,‘ I thought. ‘Siobhan is there. Surely she won’t put you in a situation where I would lose my job again, right?‘

I squared my shoulder and dragged my feet to their table. Siobhan was thrilled to see me, as if she didn’t just had me for a sleepover last night.

“I knew you would be here,” she revealed as she gave me a tight hug.

Then Lila followed suit. “Nana Lucy was asking about you.”

“I’m fine,” I greeted back. Cole nodded at me, and Beckett remained seated in his spot, unmoving, as if he wasn’t going to acknowledge my existence.

What the hell is wrong with this guy? He was looking at me like a lost puppy earlier, but now he doesn’t even want to look at me? Well, that’s for the better, right? I don’t want him here, and he doesn’t want to look at me. It’s a win–win.

“So what can I get you?” I asked them.

I could feel Tara’s eyes on me the whole time. If she thinks she can rattle me with her words, she’s got a lot of work to do. I survived Beckett’s nasty attitude. I can survive her as well.

I will serve Beckett’s table the same way I served every other customer at the Old Town Tavern–polite, efficient, distant.

Tara won’t see any hesitation, edge, or history in me.

Because if I let eyen a sliver of what I felt slip into my work, I’d lose this job too. And I couldn’t afford that. I already lost one job because of a kiss I never asked for and couldn’t forget. I wouldn’t let him take this from me as well.

“A bucket of beer,” Cole said easily, flashing a grin that could’ve convinced the bar itself to give him a discount. “Whatever’s cold.”

“Martini for me,” Siobhan said.

“I’ll have the same,” Lila added.

I nodded, scribbling on my pad. “Coming right up.”

Beckett didn’t speak. He didn’t even look at me directly–but I could feel his attention like a hand pressed flat against my spine earlier. I kept my eyes trained on Siobhan, Lila, and Cole.

What I didn’t have was an answer as to why they were here.

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None of them were Hawthorne Bay Mariners fans. Siobhan is not crazy about baseball. Lila once called it “emotionally constipated men chasing a ball.” And Beckett–well.

Beckett wore a dark look. A navy baseball cap sat snug on his head, brim angled downward. His hair was tucked away, his jaw hidden behind light stubble he hadn’t bothered to tame. No designer jacket. No expensive watch. He looked deliberately. smaller like a man trying very hard not to be seen.

And it still didn’t work.

He was too broad, too composed, too appealing.

Cole, on the other hand, looked like he’d been born in this bar. Sleeves rolled up, boots planted confidently, laughter booming as if the space already belonged to him. He fit here in a way Beckett never could–and somehow, that made Beckett look even more out of place.

I dropped their orders in front of them and turned away before Beckett could say anything.

“Thanks,” Cole said.

I gave a quick nod and moved on.

But no matter where I went to the tables, the taps, the register—I felt Beckett’s eyes tracking me. Watching the way I moved. He was just like Tara, watching how I worked, waiting for me to make a mistake.

“Hey.”

I stiffened. Tara again.

Tara–with–the–chewing–gum. Tara–with–the–attitude. Tara–who–acted–like–she–owned–the bar even though she hadn’t been here half as long as I had.

“What?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral. I did as she asked. What more does she want from me?

She leaned against the counter, eyes flicking pointedly toward Beckett’s table. “What was that?”

“What?” I said. “That was me working.”

“Working? You were flirting with the customers,” she said as a matter of fact, as though she saw something that didn’t take place.

I swallowed the retort, burning my tongue. ‘Causing a scene wasn’t worth it, Andi. Calm down.

“Flirting?” I said calmly. “They are my friends.”

Friends? I would die first before I let Beckett hear me say that. In this conversation, they are my friends today because I want Tara off my back.

She smirked as if she’d won something and walked off. “Friends?” She slid her gaze from my head to my foot. “You…. friends with those rich kids? I doubt it. A piece of advice, Paul doesn’t like servers flirting with customers. So if you want to keep working here, better get that through your head.”

There are a lot of things I could say back to Tara. My tenure here at The Old Town Tavern is surely longer than her relationship with Paul, but I chose to keep my mouth shut. Dealing with Tara was not on my to–do list tonight.

I exhaled slowly and kept working on avoiding Tara, avoiding Beckett, and avoiding everything that could derail me tonight.

I need this job more than I needed it before. That was all I thought of during the entire half of my shift.

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When midnight finally struck, relief loosened something tight in my chest. It was time for my break–a much–needed breather from Tara’s constant watchful gaze and Beckett’s secret ones.

I grabbed my coffee and sandwich and slipped out the back door, the noise of the bar dulling behind me. The air outside was cooler, quieter. I sat on the concrete steps, shoulders slumping as exhaustion finally caught up with me.

I sipped my coffee, staring into the dimness of the alley, trying to figure out how I’d get through the rest of the night, how I’d keep my life from unraveling any further.

The resident stray orange cat, Kit–Kat, emerged from the dimness, his mewl filling the silence of the alley. He climbed up the stairs where I was sitting, rubbing his fat body against my legs.

“You’re still here, Kit–Kat?” I cooed, giving him a good belly scratch. He rolled onto his back and gave me access to his tummy, his eyes closed and his claws opening and closing as he purred, begging for more petting.

If only I had the means to care for this cat, I would bring him home. But I can’t really offer him anything nice right now. I can’t even take care of myself properly.

I pinched a bite of my sandwich and gave it to the cat. For a while, my focus was on Kit–kat, just watching him eat slowly, savoring the small piece of sandwich. I was too lost in my head to notice that we weren’t alone in the alley. Somewhere in the shadows, someone was watching me.

My break was almost done when I stood from my spot and went towards the back door of the bar. That’s when the shadow in the dark decided to attack me.

I felt it too late–that prickling awareness crawling up my spine. Hands grabbed me from behind.

His body was big and hard, like a wall of muscles. He was strong, too strong that he was able to drag me away from the door in two seconds,

Kit–kat was still eating his food, unbothered that I was already being attacked.

My breath punched out of my lungs as I stumbled backwards, fingers clawing uselessly at air. Panic exploded in my chest as he managed to drag me halfway down the alley.

Fear rolled down my spine. The smell hit first–sweat and something sour, like cheap beer soaked into fabric. His arm cinched around my chest, crushing my ribs, dragging me backward into the shadows behind the dumpster.

I thrashed, instinct screaming louder than reason. As the distance between Kit–kat and me grew, dread was locking down my spine.

“Don’t,” he hissed into my ear, breath hot and wet. “Just—don’t make a sound.”

Panic detonated in my veins, and I moved without thinking, bit down hard on his hand, covering my mouth.

“Fuck!” He swore, loosening just enough for air to rush into my lungs–and that was all the opening I needed to fight. I drove my heel down, elbowed back blindly, nails clawing at skin and his shirt. My heart was a jackhammer; my thoughts nothing but noise and terror. But for a man who smelled of stale beer, he gathered his bearing quickly and dug his fingers through my hair, pulling me back so hard, I felt my scalp ripping away from my skull.

I screamed in pain as he held me in a chokehold. If he was rough earlier, this time, he’s unforgiving. He was choking me now, and I felt the air leaving my body.

Is this how I’m going to die? Alone in the dark alley where no one was listening?

Then-

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“Get your hands off her.”

The voice cut through the alley like a gunshot. A voice I know too well.

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