Free Entertaining Angels by JUDY DUARTE Page B

when Sandra Billups had called in sick, Kristy had been asked to move over to the bar and cover until a replacement came in.
    The tips were much better on this side, so she accepted the change without complaint. Still, she didn’t like dealing with drunks, no matter how much money they threw around, no matter how important their jobs were and how much stress had driven them to Paddy’s to unwind.
    “Hey, baby,” a patron in the corner who’d grown increasingly annoying hollered. “Why don’t you put down that tray and come over here? I could sure use some company.”
    The guy had been pretty quiet and uptight when he arrived. But he’d been downing Irish whiskey since before four, and his sobriety had been deteriorating steadily.
    His discarded jacket, which he’d hung over his chair earlier, had slipped onto the floor. And his tie rested on the table in a pile of silk.
    It was time to cut him off.
    Where was Ian, the bouncer? Flexing his muscles and flirting with that busty blonde he’d sidled up to earlier, no doubt.
    What a crowd this was.
    The new owners might have done their best to cater to a higher-class patron, but the old pub regulars continued to show up night after night, hunkering down and digging in until closing time.
    There seemed to be an imaginary line down the middle of the bar, giving it both a shady and a respectable side. But as far as Kristy was concerned, there wasn’t much difference between the two groups once they’d thrown back a couple of shooters or downed a few beers.
    Every now and again, she would hear one of the old crowd complain about how uppity everyone had gotten now that they were putting on the ritz.
    Still, to her, the new and improved Paddy’s Pub wasn’t
that
nice, and neither were some of the people who hung out here. Just working in the bar was enough to reinforce her vow to never touch a drop of alcohol again.
    As she turned to take the tray of drinks to table seven, she nearly bumped into a dark-haired man clad in worn jeans and a white polo shirt.
    She spouted out a blanket apology, while trying to balance her load. When their gazes finally met, she recognized an old friend.
    Ramon Gonzales slid her a slow smile. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
    Kristy didn’t usually enjoy running into any of the people she’d gone to school with, but Ramon was one of the exceptions, and she returned his grin. “I usually work on the restaurant side, but they were shorthanded in here.”
    It had been an excuse. An attempt to make him understand why Kristy, who had a history she wished she could rewind and replay with a different outcome, would work as a cocktail waitress. She supposed, after seven years, she still struggledto right her reputation, especially when it came to a guy who’d always been nice to her.
    She probably hadn’t needed to explain. In school, Ramon had been a shy and introspective guy who never used to talk about people behind their backs.
    Dark Latino eyes bore into hers. “How’s it going?”
    “All right. How about you?”
    He gave a half shrug. “I’m okay. Business is good.”
    Ramon’s dad had been the groundskeeper at the Rensfield estate ever since Kristy was in the sixth grade. She remembered because Ramon had been the new kid in school, and all the girls had a crush on the cute, dark-haired boy who didn’t speak English.
    Actually, she realized, even after learning the language, he still spoke very little.
    When most of the other graduates had gone on to college, Ramon had started a mobile landscaping company with an old, beat-up Toyota pickup and tools he’d picked up at an estate sale. From what she’d heard, he was building a reputation for being more than a guy who just cut lawns and pruned hedges.
    Kristy adjusted the heavy tray in her hands. “I saw the garden you created around the fountain near the playground at the park. It’s beautiful. You’ve got a real eye for color to go along with a green