Authors: Tamara Hart Heiner
He brightened. “Yes, it is! And we’re going to have a
fiesta
. Let’s get the word out!”
He walked away, and Meredith giggled. “He’s kind of dorky.”
“But so nice,” I defended.
“Oh, no argument from me!” she agreed. “I love Mr. Livingston...’s class.” She smiled, and I laughed, relieved by the light-hearted banter.
J
T's Bagel Shop was growing on me; either that, or I was desperate for a distraction. As I parked my car in the back, I realized I looked forward to my shift.
“Jayne!” Matt crowed when I came in. He tossed an apron and a hairnet at me. “You’ve got kitchen today.”
It wasn’t hot outside, but the kitchen felt warmer than a tanning bed. “Thanks,” I said, my enthusiasm dimming a bit.
Gabby’s voice echoed from the drive-thru window as she spoke to Melissa, a girl I had only worked with once. “No, I was so not at that party.”
“You were!” Melissa exclaimed. Her long hair hung from a single braid down her back. “I saw you! You were wearing—”
Gabby lifted a finger and switched her mic back on. “Welcome to JT’s, would you like to try our cheddar bagel combo meal today?”
I shuddered and sprinkled more cheese on the bagel dough. Drive-thru was even worse than the check-out line. I had only worked it once, and nobody had come through smelling of lemons, but the panic I had felt at each new car nearly gave me a heart attack. I spilled seven drinks—a new record, I was told—dropped three debit cards, lost lots of change, and gave four orders to the wrong people.
The good news was, Matt said I’d never do drive-thru again.
As if hearing my thoughts, Matt loped into the kitchen, one hand hitching up his pants. He held a clipboard in the other hand and a pencil stuck out under his trademark baseball cap. “Here’s your checklist.”
I wiped my hands on my apron and took the clipboard with a deep sigh. How soon before the serial killer struck again? Would it be Hannah this time?
Matt peered at me under the bill of his cap. “You okay?”
His genuine concern brought a lump to my throat. “I’m fine.” I swallowed back a sudden urge to cry. “Just going through a stressful phase.”
“Wanna talk?”
I gave a cynical laugh. “No.” Crazy Jayne. Another good way to get fired.
“I need help at the registers!” Melissa hollered. She yelled a lot when she needed something.
“Look that over and let me know if you have questions,” Matt said, all business again. He lumbered out of the kitchen.
I glanced at the closing checklist. My break had been assigned to me at seven-fifteen. Two more hours.
Melissa came into the back room. “Jayne. There’s someone here to see you.”
I ran a mental list of who might be here as I followed her back to the front. My family hardly ever headed to this side of town. Could be Dana, if she had nothing else to do. I was afraid to hope it was Aaron.
A knot made of equal parts dread and expectation tightened my stomach as soon as I smelled the clean lemon scent. I focused on the brown leather shoes. Yep. Aaron.
“Hey,” I said, giving my fingernails a close inspection as I leaned against the wall.
“Jayne,” Aaron replied, his crisp British accent making me feel more like Jane Austen than Jayne Lockwood. “What time are you off?”
“I’m closing today,” I replied, feeling the familiar mixture of relief and disappointment. I wanted so badly to look at him, to study that chiseled jaw and touch the lock of hair that kept falling in his face.
“Yes, you mentioned that. When’s your break?”
“In two hours.” I pressed a hand on the wall when I realized I was leaning toward him. There was no denying the pull of attraction I felt.
“And are you planning on eating bagels for dinner?” There was a hint of teasing in his voice.
“Doesn’t sound very appetizing.” I dropped my hand and smiled at the counter, tracing my fuzzy reflection on the hard surface.
“Then I’ll be back with dinner.”
He just assumed I wanted to eat his food. Which I did, of course. “Don’t you have homework or a job or something?”
“My schedule’s flexible. Is that all right?”
I shrugged, trying not to appear too eager. “Sure. I’ll be here.”
“Great.” He leaned over and mussed the top of my hair. “Thank you, Jayne.”
I stared at the back of his khaki pants as he walked away and touched my fingers to my hair, lightheaded with giddiness. He liked me. I was quite sure of it.
“You only get a half hour break,” Matt warned me as I punched out. “Don’t go too far with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I growled, thoroughly embarrassed and annoyed that everyone at JT’s had witness Aaron’s entrance and departure. “And I don’t think we’re going anywhere.”
“Maybe Matt meant the other ‘too far,’” Gabby teased. She slipped something into my pocket and snapped her gum in my ear. “Just in case.”
I closed my eyes, mortified. “That won’t be necessary, Gabby.”
“Ope, here he is.” Gabby moved away just as the heady scent of lemons spread through the fast food joint. My eyes dropped to the register.
“Ready?” Aaron asked, his elbows resting on the countertop.
“Yeah.” I shouldered my backpack. “I only have half an hour, though.”
“That’s fine.” Aaron pushed away from the counter. I almost expected him to take my hand, but he stayed two steps in front of me.
I followed him out of JT’s. The sun was setting, and I squinted against the rosy light. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. I just moved here.”
I risked a quick glance at his profile and saw a smile teasing his lips. His eyes stared straight ahead as he walked up to a dark green BMW. Though in general cars didn’t interest me, I couldn’t help noticing how nice this one was. I arched an eyebrow. “What, no convertible?”
“It would be a great finishing touch, wouldn’t it?” Aaron unlocked the car. “Couldn’t afford it. But I have a really sweet sunroof.”
I turned my gaze to the roof of the car as I slid into the passenger seat. “What do you mean, you couldn’t afford it?”
“Ah.” He slid a pair of sunglasses on and then swiveled around in his seat, looking behind us as he backed up. It was mostly dark outside, but some sunlight hovered on the horizon, right at eye-height. “You think all English kids get handed exotic European sports cars by their rich mummies and daddies.”
“Something like that,” I said, feeling my face warm. “I’m guessing I’m wrong?” The good thing about him wearing sunglasses was I could look at him. I couldn’t see his eyes at all, only my own reflection looking back at me. I instantly felt more at ease.
“You’re wrong in my case.” Aaron flashed me a smile, exposing a dimple on his right cheek. “My parents paid for half.”
I still wouldn’t have been able to pay for half of a car like this. “And where did you get your half?”
We stopped at a light and Aaron pulled up the GPS on the dash. “All right, I admit it, I took some out of my savings account. But I had a job in England. I earned my own money.”
“I’m impressed,” I said. I couldn’t imagine Dana working. She had no need to, not when everything was handed to her. “What did you do?”
He cleared his throat. “I, er, worked in a hospital.”
I squinted at him. “Like a nurse? A medical assistant? They let kids do that in England?”
He fidgeted in his chair, running one hand over the steering wheel. “Not exactly. Here we are.”
I turned my attention to the view outside as we parked. We were at a playground. It was empty except for the ducks on the pond this time of day, with the light-posts already turned on and crickets starting their evening chorus. “What are we doing here?”
“I thought we’d have a picnic.” Aaron got out of the car and went to the trunk. I climbed out also.
“A picnic?” I echoed, rubbing my arms as a cool breeze tickled the hairs. A large white swan settled on the pond, and I watched the majestic creature fold its wings in as it floated on the water. Swans always gave me a peaceful feeling.
Aaron retrieved a picnic basket and a thick blanket. “It would be better with moonlight, but this will work. Maybe we’ll see a star or two.” He spread the cloth out on the grass and sat down. “I hope you like salads.”
I settled next to him. “Are you telling me I need to be on a diet?”
“Not that kind of salad.” He pulled out several containers. “Potato salad, macaroni salad, chicken salad. And just for fun, a can of sardines.”
“No way.” I laughed. “You don’t actually eat those.”
He held the can to his nose and sniffed it. “Mmm. You have no idea what you’re missing.”
“I’d like to keep it that way, thanks. Did you make all this food?”
“No. A cook I am not. But the deli by your work seems to be quite adept at such tasks.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to love anything slathered in mayo.” I spooned some of all three salads onto a paper plate. “Why the picnic?”
I could feel his eyes on me as I ate. “It sounded like fun.” He shrugged, a motion I saw from my peripheral vision. “So you want to be a journalist?”
I sputtered on some chicken salad. Aaron popped open a can of juice and handed it to me. I took several gulps before trusting myself to speak again. “Who told you that?”
“I saw the school newspaper from last week. You have a byline.”
Of course. I relaxed. “Well, kind of. I want to be a sportscaster. But I’d prefer not to be seen. So the written medium works well for me.”
“You would be a natural on television.”
I smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks.” The wavy hair popped free again.
“So why journalism? Are you a curious person? Do you like to solve mysteries?”
At the mention of mysteries, I felt a stirring in my heart. Sometimes I did find myself wanting to go out and play detective when I heard about crimes or missing persons on T.V. But I knew that would bring me face to face with too many unwanteds. So I contented myself with letting someone else make the front-page news.
But thanks to Hannah, I was in the middle of a mystery right now.
I shrugged and lay back on the blanket, staring up at the darkening sky. “Nah. I’d rather not know about things, really. What about you?”
He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head, a dangerous move that instantly increased my heart rate. “I’m generally pretty curious. Like, about prom. I can’t figure out why it’s such a big deal. It’s just a high school dance.”
I propped myself up on my elbows, being careful to direct my line of vision just to the right of his face. “You are so not American. Prom is way more than that. It’s a chance for a girl to star in her own fairy tale. To get dressed up, pampered, and ride off into the night with her prince charming.” I sighed, my romantic aspirations for that magical night returning for a moment.
“I see you take it very seriously.”
I glared in his general direction, wishing he’d left his sunglasses on. “Very.”
“So who are you going with?”
I dropped my eyes, deflated. “Haven’t figured that out yet.”
He straightened one leg and rested his elbow on his knee. “You don’t like to meet my eyes. Is that a self-confidence issue?”
Irritation surged in my chest. Dang it, he’d noticed. “No.”
He waited, but I didn’t bother explaining. Instead, I took the easy way out: I changed the subject. “How are you liking Forked River?”
“Fork-ed,” he repeated, the stress on the second syllable sounding awkward and unsure. “Several times people have laughed at me for saying ‘forked.’”
“Yeah? At least it’s an easy way for us to spot an outsider. Messing up the name.”
“Why the strange pronunciation?”
“You’re one to speak,” I returned. “Everything you say is pronounced strangely.”
He laughed and stood up, brushing his hands on his khakis. The light color was the only thing I could see clearly, now that the sun had dipped below the horizon. “Funny, I think everything you say is cute.” He extended a hand. “You’re going to be late for your shift.”