The Lies She Told (Carly Moore #5) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,2

he could be plenty mean. “The best news is that this is only the beginning. I have a whole bunch more stuff coming tomorrow.”

I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes. “When you say a whole bunch more stuff . . . ?”

“We’re getting merch,” he said with a huge smile.

I propped my hands on my hips. “Merch?”

“Yeah, everybody has merch, so it’s about time we got some too. Especially with all the new people who will be coming to town for the resort. Just think about how much money we’ll make.”

I doubted the guests of the five-star luxury resort were liable to drop in on our hole-in-the-wall tavern, but I decided to let Max keep his fantasy for now and focus on something else. “So let me get this straight, you have more stuff coming with that logo on it? What, exactly, are you planning to sell?”

His eyes lit up at my sudden interest. “Oh, you know, the usual stuff. T-shirts, key chains, belt buckles, mugs, shot glasses.”

“And you’ve already ordered all of this stuff?” I asked, trying to hide my horror.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I figured we might as well put it out there all at once.”

I shook my head. “And where do you plan on putting this stuff?”

“Behind the bar,” he said. “I can hang the T-shirts from the walls, and I can have Wyatt put a shelf up to display the other merchandise.”

The fact that Max had probably just bought thousands of dollars’ worth of crap that he wouldn’t be able to sell wasn’t exactly my problem, but as his friend, I felt like it was. As soon as Ruth walked through the back door at about 4:50, we’d be having a big bonfire out back, with the contents of that box used for kindling.

For now, I was stuck wearing one of the hideous shirts. I didn’t want to hurt Max’s feelings any more than I probably already had, so I just snatched it out of his hand and headed toward the bathroom to change. The lunch crowd would be showing up in ten minutes, and I still had to check in with Tiny about the daily special and make sure the dining room was ready.

After I changed, Tiny told me, through plenty of snickering over my shirt, that the special was his famous meatloaf and mashed potatoes, a definite favorite with the residents of Drum. Word would spread, and the dinner crowd would likely be bigger than usual.

Trixie showed up a few minutes later, and she seemed even less thrilled than I was with our change in uniform, not that she had time to complain. Ginger had the day off, so it was just the two of us, and a crowd had already formed outside the front door, waiting to come in.

We were one of only two restaurants in close proximity to the new resort’s construction site, and we were the only ones who served beer. We opened promptly at noon, so the construction workers, who only got an hour for lunch, usually began arriving as we unlocked the doors. Since it was about a twenty-five-minute round trip, they didn’t like to be kept waiting.

We had a good crowd today, and I’m sure part of the reason was the fact that we had air conditioning. Drum was in the mountains, at least, but it was still mid-June in Tennessee. The next hour was absolute madness, a never-ending rotation of sweet tea, beer, and meatloaf. I was constantly hustling, but I still had to deal with at least half a dozen snarky comments about my shirt.

Around one thirty, the crowd began to thin out. I was in the middle of bussing a table when an unfamiliar woman walked in—unusual around these parts. We had plenty of new people around, but most of them were men, workers at the resort. I knew all the regulars, as well as the mothers of the kids from the tutoring club I’d started a few months ago.

She looked to be in her forties, with stringy, graying blond hair that hung slightly past her shoulders. Something in her eyes told me that she’d lived a hard life, although that wasn’t too uncommon in these parts. She was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a ratty button-down shirt that looked to be a decade old. Her hair probably hadn’t seen a hairdresser in a matching decade, and something about her eyes was hard, like she’d shank me and not feel an