He’d worked at the bar since Grace was seventeen, and at just two years older than her, they’d clicked from the very beginning. When her dad died a year later he helped her to navigate the running of the place and had been by her side ever since, apart from a brief hiatus when Nathan had sacked him without Grace’s knowledge. The first thing she’d done after taking control of her pub again was to phone Marcus and beg him to come back. He’d accepted before she’d even finished the question. He often joked that Grace could never fire him because he knew where the bodies were buried, and Grace always smiled politely when he did, because Marcus had no idea. He was a great pub manager, but she did her best to keep him far away from her other business activities. They both preferred it that way.

Patrick Carter was sitting at the bar on a stool, reading a newspaper and eating a bacon sandwich, which he’d no doubt talked the chef into making him, even though the kitchen wasn’t officially open.

‘Morning, Pat.’ She smiled as she greeted him. ‘What brings you here so early?’

‘Just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ He smiled back.

‘I’m fine. I can look after myself.’

‘I know that, boss. Just here in case you need me,’ he said before returning to his newspaper and sandwich.

It still sounded odd to hear the legendary Patrick Carter calling her Boss. He’d given her that moniker shortly after they’d met ten years ago, and he’d worked for her ever since. But not in the same way Marcus did. No, Patrick undertook more specialized work. He did the type of jobs that you couldn’t advertise in the local newspaper. Running a pub in Liverpool could be a dangerous game after all. Patrick was what some might call her right-hand man. One of her most trusted confidantes. He gave good counsel, but more importantly he knew when to keep his opinions to himself and do as he was told.

Grace took one of the discarded bread crusts from Patrick’s plate. ‘You always leave the best bit,’ she said before taking a bite.

He grinned at her. ‘Leave them for you, don’t I?’

Marcus approached her and put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a light peck on the cheek. ‘Morning, lovely,’ he said. ‘You all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she snapped. She hated to be coddled by them.

‘Okay, keep your knickers on,’ he pouted. ‘I’m only asking.’

‘We’re just worried about you,’ Patrick added. Before she could reply he interrupted her. ‘Yes, we know you can look after yourself, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be concerned about you.’

‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just on edge, that’s all.’