Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

telling you how to do anything. I’m just saying if we used fresh mozzarella instead of that preshredded crap you buy—”
     
    128
    “—the people who come in here wouldn’t know the difference, ”
    Antonia finished triumphantly.
     
    “Yes, they would. People recognize quality when you put it in front of them. If you educate their palates—”
     
    Antonia snorted. “Educate! I’m running a restaurant, not a school.”
     
    The bell over the entrance jangled.
     
    Antonia jerked her head toward the front of the shop. “Go see to our customers.”
     
    Customers . Sandy tourists demanding pizza. Unimaginative islanders who liked their salad dressing bottled and their clams fried.
    Maybe her mother was right.
     
    Regina banged through the swinging door that led from the kitchen to the dining room.
     
    And stopped dead at the sight of Police Chief Cal Hunter with his arm around a strange woman.
     
    Regina gave herself a quick shake. What did she expect? Cal had never shown any real interest in her. Any romantic interest, she amended, recalling his kindness to Nick. Obviously, skinny, sharp-tongued single moms weren’t his type.
     
    No, Caleb’s tastes ran more toward . . . Well, toward curvy, exotic women with full lips and lots of cleavage.
     
    Like this one.
     
    Regina watched as Caleb steered the woman forward with one hand at her waist. Somebody had banged her up good. But even the ugly stitches marching across her hair line only added a touch of vulnerability that probably appealed to a big, protective guy like Cal.
     
    She was barefoot. The restaurant’s policy—NO SHOES, NO
    SHIRT, NO SERVICE—was clearly printed on the sign in the window.
     
    Regina wiped her hands on her apron. What was she going to do?
    Call the police? “Hi, Cal. Who’s your friend?”
     
    129
    “This is Maggie. Maggie, Regina Barone.”
     
    The woman inclined her head without speaking.
     
    “Nice to meet you.” Regina looked at Cal. “You’re a little early for dinner.”
     
    He did that attractive eye crinkle thing without actually smiling. “I wanted to beat the crowd.”
     
    “Be glad you weren’t here at lunch time, then. We had a line out the door and nobody behind the counter. What can I get you?”
     
    “I need money,” the woman said.
     
    Regina blinked. “Excuse me?”
     
    Caleb cleared his throat. “Your mother mentioned you were a little shorthanded. I thought Maggie here might be able to help you out.”
     
    Ha. Like he was motivated by some desire to make her life easier.
    Regina looked over at Cleavage Barbie. “You got any experience?”
     
    “What kind of experience?”
     
    “Waiting tables, washing dishes, working the cash register. That kind of thing.”
     
    “No.”
     
    No, of course not.
     
    Regina sighed. “You talked to my mother about this?” she asked Caleb.
     
    “She said it was your decision.”
     
    Great. Her mother wouldn’t even let Regina buy decent mozzarella, but as long as there was a chance of something going phenomenally, fantastically wrong, it was her decision.
     
    “Okay. Well, let me get you some forms. We’ll see how you work out.”
     
    130
    The woman—Maggie—looked at Caleb. “Forms?”
     
    “Give us a minute,” he said.
     
    She held his gaze for a long moment while Regina got the necessary paperwork. “Here you go.”
     
    With a shrug, the woman slid into a nearby booth with the forms and a pencil.
     
    “You can’t add her to regular payroll,” Caleb said to Regina.
     
    Regina raised one eyebrow. “You want me to pay her cash?”
     
    “It wouldn’t be the first time someone in a restaurant got paid under the table.”
     
    “And is that your recommendation as an officer of the law, Chief Hunter?”
     
    “It’s my request,” Caleb said evenly. “As your friend.”
     
    “Well, shit,” Regina said in disgust.
     
    He smiled, and for a second she felt like Nick, acting out for a little male attention. “Not that it’s any of my business,” she asked, “but why?”
     
    Caleb hesitated. “I was hoping you could keep an eye on her. Let me know if anybody gives her a hard time.”
     
    “You mean, besides my mother?”
     
    Caleb’s eyes crinkled again. “I was thinking more of a male somebody, six-two, six-four, around a hundred and ninety pounds.”
     
    “And would this tall, skinny male be the one who messed up her face?”
     
    “Maybe.”
     
    Regina felt a flash of sympathy for the woman in the