Lag (The Boys of RDA Book 2) (16 page)

Trey’s eyes widen over the male voice and he pushes his chair back a fraction, but doesn’t stand. I turn back to the counter. “I'll be right there.”

I ignore Mari but look Trey directly in the eye, my lips still stretched across my face. “Well it looks like my shift is over, but my replacement will be right over to take your order. Have a nice night.”

I untie my apron on the walk to the counter throwing it in the dirty bin past the kitchen door before I meet Jamie at the clock out station. If I hadn’t just met the boy, I’d hug him.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Do you need a ride to work today?” Aspen asks as she enters the small tiled kitchen.

“No, it’s two blocks and I’m not due in for a while.” I don't admit my secondary reason, a promise to myself that I would interrupt Aspen’s life as little as possible while I’m here. The woman barely knows me, but she’s opened her place without anything expected in return. It’s more than I asked and I’m clueless as to how to repay her. The $500 in rent I’ll force her to take doesn't feel like enough.

Aspen peeks her head into the living room where I sit on top of my makeshift bed now a couch again. When she looks back at me, her face is scrunched up on one side in question. “I hope the couch was okay. You folded it out, right?”

“Yeah, I picked it up already, but I slept great. Thank you.”

I set my alarm for six to make sure the area lacked all evidence of my sleeping here before she left her room.

“Don’t worry about it every day. No one is ever here.” She points to the refrigerator. “Rule 4: No more than two extra people in the apartment at any time.

“Those are serious?” I thought they were some kind of joke from Finn.

Aspen laughs. “At least when the penthouse owner’s here. He’s gone right now, but I try not to go too wild in case he shows up before Finn can warn me." She opens the fridge and peers in before closing it empty handed. “Anyway, if you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks.” My eyes fall across the counter. “One question, are you hiding the coffee maker?”

She crosses by the counter and sits on a stool by the bar. “Sorry, no coffee maker. I have no taste for it, but there’s a coffee shop on the ground level next to the bookstore. They kind of play off one another.”

“I have one from my old place. Do you mind if I set it up?” I wait for her to agree and then gather my courage to ask the question I’ve thought about a hundred times since I returned to San Francisco. “Pen,” I lead with her nickname, “what’s up with Trey and Mari?”

She grimaces at my question. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” I hurry to remove any guilt over betraying a friendship. Maybe I was wrong in assuming she and Mari weren’t close.

She leans her elbows on the counter and sits her face in them. “No really, Simone. I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about her and he's never brought her to the comic shop, which I guess is some big step for the guys. They act like it’s a privilege I’m allowed in, when in reality it’s kind of boring.” Her head pops up as if she remembered I’m here. “Don’t tell Finn.”

I do the universal hand signal for zipping my lips and allow her to continue.

“As far as I know, they aren’t dating. When the guys get together she’s never there. Is she the reason you dumped Trey?"

I blow out a long exaggerated breath and roll my head to the ceiling. “I don’t know. Yes. Trey never told me about Mari, but then I saw her at an event the night before I left.” I avoid the mention of where I rushed off to that day. We all know. “He said they had an agreement.”

“Agreement? What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t want to know.” I shrug my shoulder and shake my head even though there’s a tiny part of me that wants to know even more than I want double fudge ice cream.

“Hmm. I’ll try to get details from Finn, but I’m not sure how much he knows either. After you left Trey was upset. I’m pretty sure he thinks you blew him off and wouldn’t let him explain.” Her expression goes soft and she drops our eye contact moving hers to the wall beside me. “He asked me what to do, which is how I found out and then when I called to invite you to brunch…well….you know.” She trails over my mother's death.

“So you didn’t tell him about my mom?” I ask and freak out a little over the fact I said Mom and didn’t cry. It’s probably the first time in months.

“No, it’s your story to tell and not everyone deserves to know.” Her finger rubs under her eye, but she pretends we both don't see it.

“Thanks.”

If anyone understands what I’m going through, it’s Aspen. At least I still have my dad. I can’t imagine losing both my parents at six like she did. She's right about her last comment too. It is my story to tell, if, when, and who I decide to tell it to. I don’t owe Trey or anyone else.

Aspen clears her throat and it draws my eyes back to her as she fidgets with a piece of loose mail on the counter. “I will warn you though,” she sucks some air between her teeth, “Trey called Finn last night and asked why you’re working in a coffee shop.”

“Seriously?” I lean back on the couch cushions and spend a moment angry at myself. I’m happier he asked than I should be. I shouldn't care. Trey is long gone from my life, but I like the idea of him being curious enough to ask.

“Finn didn’t tell him details, just that you left the city for a while and now you’re back and working there.” Her face scrunches up. “He also knows you’re living with me. He was pushy and Finn felt like he needed to tell him something.”

I stand up from the couch and walk to the kitchen to lean against the counter behind the bar where Aspen sits. “It’s okay.” And I mean it. So what? I had a little thrill knowing he asked about me. There are no plans to talk to Trey again, but he’d hear I was living here sooner or later. I can’t really hide.

The door knob jiggles and I stop to stare in horror at it. Who would try to open the apartment door?

“Aspen.” Finn’s voice is hampered by the thick wood. “You're going to be late.”

She rolls her eyes at me but stands to let him in. The door opens a crack. “Sorry, let me grab a coat and I’ll be right out.” then she closes the door in his face and turns to the small closet behind it. “Like with your mom, what happened between you and Trey is your story to tell. But please if you ever want to talk about it more I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

She pauses at the door with her hand on the knob. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Simone, but you’re super sweet. Maybe too much. I don't want you to end up hurt so don’t take any crap from Trey… or anyone else for that matter.” She pauses like she has more to say but then opens the door and lets herself out leaving me alone with my thoughts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“We’re tag teaming lunch again?” Jamie’s question comes from behind me, and I jump jerking the coffee pot but without spilling any of the hot liquid inside.

By the time I turn around to face him, there’s a genuine smile in residence on my face. “Yup, it’s the dream team together again." I smack him on the arm with a move that’s so reminiscent of my mother my breath hitches.

My new coworker doesn’t notice my slip and turns back to the other side of the counter to start our prep for the upcoming lunch rush. He balances on the heels of his feet and leans into the case, his muscles flex stretching his black polo shirt as he moves plates around. I might spend a few too many minutes watching him with my back against the opposite counter.

The restaurant is peaceful now so my time isn’t interrupted with a needy customer. It’s the quiet time of day, the time that pays the least in tips. People stop in for a muffin or coffee — quick orders that don’t require them to sit. Then as we get closer to lunch, everyone eats lightly so they can get back on the move.

No one wants these shifts so as the two newest employees, Jamie and I are here to pick up the slack. Amanda set me up with the interview where Bonnie hired me on the spot and I wasn’t in a position to turn it down. I’m just thankful Bonnie's a dog person and her little Yorkies were involved in a taste test Amanda set up for the dog food company she and Aspen work for.

Jamie pops up from where he’d crouched on the floor. “Do you feel comfortable with taking tables on your own today?”

“Absolutely.” For about twenty minutes this morning Frank, the kitchen guy, and I were alone. I handled my two tables without any problems. I’m getting the hang of this whole waitressing thing.

Jamie reaches behind him and pulls out a tray. “Do you think you’ll use a tray today?” He smiles with his question and my face heats instantly.

I guess he did notice my apprehension of them yesterday. I reach out and take the small black round disk of torment from him. “Sure.” I try to sound confident but my eyes fall to the stationary implement of destruction with fear.

“Great!” He either doesn’t notice my hesitation or decides to ignore it. Either way I’m grateful. “You take tables one through six, and I’ll get the rest.”

The diner only has fifteen tables, but the first six are in a close cluster and make it easier to keep up. Plus, I’m glad he didn’t make me split it fifty-fifty with him. I’m ready, but I might not be
that
ready yet.

The bell attached to the door rings while I stuff my order book in the pocket of my mint green apron. I pat Jamie on the arm to let him know I’ll seat them. The tile floors have been washed or even waxed since yesterday and I slip a little around the counter corner, but use it to gain speed. I’ve practiced the move all morning, a little fun never hurt anyone, but I hope it doesn’t become a hazard when it gets busy.

I skid to a stop before I reach the tall customer by the front door as he waits to be directed where to sit. Trey Frickin’ Good. I almost stomp my foot in annoyance, but I won’t let him know he’s gotten the best of me. I sneak a quick look behind him to make sure he hasn’t brought along his favorite redhead and, after finding empty space, continue in his direction.

“Trey, what can I help you with?” Here’s hoping he’s not here to eat.

His lips stretch into an impossible grin, so large it takes up much of his face. I’m annoyed at how pretty it makes him. Well, not pretty. Handsome. Kind maybe. Argh, I must not allow myself to have these thoughts about a jerk.

From the small chuckle he tries to cover up, he notices my agitation at him being in my diner. The fact he finds it funny only upsets me more.

“I’m looking for some lunch. Where should I sit?”

I want to tell him there isn’t a place here for him, but besides the one occupied table in the back, we’re deserted. It probably wouldn’t do me well to turn away a customer on my second day. Rather than shoo him out the door, I release an exaggerated sigh and turn to sit him in Jamie’s section. At least then I won’t have to talk to him.

He starts to take off his black fleece but stops before we’ve taken three steps. “Actually, Sim, can I sit by the window?”

No. No. No. Of course he wants to sit by the window in my section of tables. And Sim? I don’t think so, that nickname is not going to fly.

The size of my scowl matches his smile as I lead him to a seat by the window. He’s so smug. It’s annoying. Now that Trey knows I work here, he wasn’t supposed to come back. He is persona non grata when it comes to Bonnie’s. Why is he here? Is making me wait on him some perverse turn on of his?

He has his black fleece off by the time we make it to the small table. His black button down shirt’s tucked into his khakis highlighting his trim waist, and I do my best not to let my eyes linger. Isn’t there a Karma law against this?

I stare at his nose so I’m not making eye contact, but also won’t start fantasizing about how he’d look shirtless. Trey must notice the dueling emotions of anger and lust as they play across my face probably making me look like a psycho. His smile decreases a slight amount, not so much a normal person would notice, but I’ve glared in his direction long enough, I’m aware.

“Look, Simone I didn’t come here to upset you. Can we talk?”

I scoff at his question. “No. Believe it or not, Trey, I’m working.”

He rests both his hands on the table. “Well then I’ll wait until you’re done.”

“I have six hours of my shift left.”

He looks up at me from his seat and lifts one shoulder. “I’ll wait.”

“For six hours?”

“Yup.”

My eyes roll at him, but I’m quick to look to the side so he doesn’t see. He won’t sit here for six hours.

“Trey, for a time I thought your bossy commanding ways were cute, but not anymore. You’re sitting in one of my tables. You need to order or get out.”

Holy shit. I can’t believe I was lippy with Trey Good. Did I channel Marissa? From the way Trey’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open, he can’t believe it either. If I wasn't still in front of him I’d do a fist pump. I didn’t know I had it in me. My celebration is short lived when he’s quick to smirk again and then without picking up the menu places an order for our turkey wrap with a side of coleslaw and a coke.

**

Bonnie’s was swamped at lunch giving me legitimate reasons to ignore Trey as he sat in his little corner table. Oh and the tips. My apron pocket bulges with the cash left on the tables and there’s always more from those who paid with credit cards. If this is the underpaying shift, I can’t imagine what a dinner would net me. Screw fifty, at this rate I might be able to pay my debt off by forty-five.