Mae.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Julie,” Mae admonished, trying not to sound too discouraging.
“When can I start?”
“I’ll take you over there myself after breakfast. But I feel duty bound to warn you.”
“Warn me? About what?”
“Well,” Mae said thoughtfully, searching for the right words, “Marty isn’t exactly a lady like you and me. She’s a tough woman forced to resort to violence at times to protect herself. She’s a survivor, but don’t let her rough exterior and salty speech fool you. Inside, her heart is as big as all outdoors. Just don’t cross her and you’ll get along fine.”
Julie was to remember those words when she met the intimidating Marty Sloan. Nearly as tall as a man, Marty’s ample girth was girdled with a belt and holster instead of an apron, the butt of a colt pistol prominently displayed. Though far from fat, Marty’s raw-boned frame was well-padded. Her hair, once red and still abundant, was stuffed beneath a man’s broad-brimmed hat. Her sharp brown eyes missed nothing when she was introduced to Julie.
“A might scrawny, ain’t she, Mae?” Marty asked, eyeing Julie dubiously.
Julie bristled indignantly. “I’m healthy, strong and willing to work,” she insisted, drawing herself up to her full five foot-three.
Marty grinned, displaying a mouthful of teeth stained by tobacco. “Cute little thing when she’s got her feathers ruffled. What did you say your name was, gal?”
“Julie. Julie … Darcy.” She had no intention of being known as Julie Delgado.
“Do you think you can wait tables, wash dishes and dodge horny customers trying to get their hands up your skirts?”
“Julie slanted a glance at Mae who raised her eyebrows as if to say, “I warned you.”
“I think so,” Julie declared with more confidence than she felt.
“Well then, get your tail in the kitchen while me and Mae have a little gab session.”
In the kitchen Julie encountered a funny little Chinese man who told her his name was Wong Li. In pidgeon English he informed her that he performed the heavy tasks around the kitchen as well as waited on tables. The man looked so frail that Julie seriously doubted his ability to perform the heavy tasks he detailed.
While Mae and Marty chatted, Julie studied her surroundings. The food tent was monstrous. She was certain it could seat a hundred men at the long tables lined up in neat rows. The floor was dirt but painstakingly cleared of fallen scraps and debris. The large main door faced the street but there was a smaller rear door behind the cooking area. The kitchen itself wasn’t a separate room but an open area set aside at the back of the tent sporting one of the few woodburning cook-stoves in San Francisco. A good share of the cooking was done outdoors over open firepits behind the tent.
Before long Mae waved goodbye and Julie began what proved to be the most exhausting day of her entire life. Before she had time to breathe, the lunch crowd descended upon her and Julie suffered through the whistles and crude remarks of the rough men, most of whom were startled to find a beautiful young woman in their midst. When one man became overbold and squeezed Julie’s breast in passing, causing her to cry out, Marty was immediately at her side, gun in hand.
“Do that one more time, Mel, and you won’t have the balls to try it again,” Marty threatened. The gun waved menacingly at the man’s genitals.
“Shit, Marty, I was just funning,” Mel said sheepishly, his eyes glued to the weapon in Marty’s hand. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it don’t. That goes for every one of you misbegotten sons-of-bitches,” Marty’s gravely voice warned. “I’m mighty fond of this here little gal and don’t take kindly to her being mauled by any of you scum. Do I make myself clear?”
There was some grumbling but the shouts of those in agreement soon drowned them out. After that, Julie was not bothered again. In fact, by the end of
“Don’t get your hopes up, Julie,” Mae admonished, trying not to sound too discouraging.
“When can I start?”
“I’ll take you over there myself after breakfast. But I feel duty bound to warn you.”
“Warn me? About what?”
“Well,” Mae said thoughtfully, searching for the right words, “Marty isn’t exactly a lady like you and me. She’s a tough woman forced to resort to violence at times to protect herself. She’s a survivor, but don’t let her rough exterior and salty speech fool you. Inside, her heart is as big as all outdoors. Just don’t cross her and you’ll get along fine.”
Julie was to remember those words when she met the intimidating Marty Sloan. Nearly as tall as a man, Marty’s ample girth was girdled with a belt and holster instead of an apron, the butt of a colt pistol prominently displayed. Though far from fat, Marty’s raw-boned frame was well-padded. Her hair, once red and still abundant, was stuffed beneath a man’s broad-brimmed hat. Her sharp brown eyes missed nothing when she was introduced to Julie.
“A might scrawny, ain’t she, Mae?” Marty asked, eyeing Julie dubiously.
Julie bristled indignantly. “I’m healthy, strong and willing to work,” she insisted, drawing herself up to her full five foot-three.
Marty grinned, displaying a mouthful of teeth stained by tobacco. “Cute little thing when she’s got her feathers ruffled. What did you say your name was, gal?”
“Julie. Julie … Darcy.” She had no intention of being known as Julie Delgado.
“Do you think you can wait tables, wash dishes and dodge horny customers trying to get their hands up your skirts?”
“Julie slanted a glance at Mae who raised her eyebrows as if to say, “I warned you.”
“I think so,” Julie declared with more confidence than she felt.
“Well then, get your tail in the kitchen while me and Mae have a little gab session.”
In the kitchen Julie encountered a funny little Chinese man who told her his name was Wong Li. In pidgeon English he informed her that he performed the heavy tasks around the kitchen as well as waited on tables. The man looked so frail that Julie seriously doubted his ability to perform the heavy tasks he detailed.
While Mae and Marty chatted, Julie studied her surroundings. The food tent was monstrous. She was certain it could seat a hundred men at the long tables lined up in neat rows. The floor was dirt but painstakingly cleared of fallen scraps and debris. The large main door faced the street but there was a smaller rear door behind the cooking area. The kitchen itself wasn’t a separate room but an open area set aside at the back of the tent sporting one of the few woodburning cook-stoves in San Francisco. A good share of the cooking was done outdoors over open firepits behind the tent.
Before long Mae waved goodbye and Julie began what proved to be the most exhausting day of her entire life. Before she had time to breathe, the lunch crowd descended upon her and Julie suffered through the whistles and crude remarks of the rough men, most of whom were startled to find a beautiful young woman in their midst. When one man became overbold and squeezed Julie’s breast in passing, causing her to cry out, Marty was immediately at her side, gun in hand.
“Do that one more time, Mel, and you won’t have the balls to try it again,” Marty threatened. The gun waved menacingly at the man’s genitals.
“Shit, Marty, I was just funning,” Mel said sheepishly, his eyes glued to the weapon in Marty’s hand. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it don’t. That goes for every one of you misbegotten sons-of-bitches,” Marty’s gravely voice warned. “I’m mighty fond of this here little gal and don’t take kindly to her being mauled by any of you scum. Do I make myself clear?”
There was some grumbling but the shouts of those in agreement soon drowned them out. After that, Julie was not bothered again. In fact, by the end of
Similar Books
