Chapters (33)
- Beautiful Sacrifice
- Also by Jamie McGuire
- Beautiful Sacrifice by Jamie McGuire
- Copyright © 2015 by Jamie McGuire
- Dedication
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
Phaedra didn’t reveal her mood to the customers, but Kirby and I had to work extra hard to keep her smiling. An entire pitcher of sun tea crashed to the floor, Hector broke a stack of plates, and I didn’t get one of the saltshakers screwed on tightly enough, so Chuck had to make a Philly cheesesteak sandwich on the double to replace the one with more salt in it than what had been in my hair.
Kirby seated the author and her assistant, their second visit in as many days.
“Afternoon,” I said with a smile. “Back again, huh?”
“It’s so good,” the author said. “I wanted to try the Cuban before we left.”
“This is not what I ordered,” a man said loudly to Phaedra.
Dwayne Kaufman was sitting alone in the corner, licking his thumb after tossing the top bun of his burger to the floor.
“Uh-oh,” Kirby whispered in my ear. “Dwayne’s been drinking again. Should I call the police?”
I shook my head. Who gets drunk before noon? “Let Phaedra handle it.”
“I said, no ketchup! And it’s fucking cold!” Dwayne yelled.
“My apologies, hon,” Phaedra said. “I’ll get that fixed right away, Dwayne.” She scooped up his plate and rushed through the double doors.
“I’m not your hon!” he called after her. “Piece-of-shit café.”
I walked over to Dwayne and smiled. “Can I get you a coffee while Chuck grills that up for you?”
“Fuck off,” he grumbled, facing me but keeping his eyes on the floor. “I just want a fucking burger the way I ordered it. Is that so hard?”
His cup of tea was over half full, but I wanted to keep him occupied until Phaedra returned. “She’s working on it. Let me get you more tea,” I said, picking up his cup.
He grabbed my wrist. “Get your tater-tot tits outta my face!”
The liquid sloshed from the cup onto my shoes as I tried to pull away, and then it happened again when another large hand encompassed Dwayne’s wrist.
Dwayne froze, and so did I.
Taylor had suddenly appeared next to me. “What did you just call her?” His voice was low and ominous.
I began to speak, but Dwayne let go of my hand and laughed nervously.
“I don’t want more tea,” he growled. “I want to be left alone!”
Taylor let go of Dwayne’s hand and stepped back, making way for Phaedra.
“Here you are, Dwayne. Cheeseburger straight off the grill, no ketchup. So sorry,” Phaedra said, louder than necessary.
She put her body between Dwayne and me, and I took another step back.
“How does that taste? Better?” she asked.
He took a bite. Closing his eyes, he chewed like a wild animal, bread and a piece of onion falling from his mouth. “Yes. Took you long enough.”