Random (Going the Distance) (18 page)

We don’t speak at all until he pulls up in front of my house. “Jess…” he begins. “Can you just let me explain?”

“I can’t imagine what you could say that would make this better, Tyler. Honestly, I’m embarrassed and furious with myself. You’re using me!”

“No! That’s what she wants you to think, but it’s not true.” He leans forward. “Look at me.”

I set my jaw and meet his eyes, and the aquamarine burns me.

“I
have
known a lot of women, but I’m six years older than you. I’ve only had three actual relationships, and I’d be happy to tell you about them. My sister is an elitist snob who is miserable in her marriage and takes it out on everyone around her. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Why didn’t you stand up for me? Introduce me?”

He shakes his head. “If she thought you mattered, it would have been even worse.”

For a minute I pause. It has the ring of truth. Maybe…

“This is real, Jess. I swear it.” He touches my face, and I hesitate, hating myself for vacillating, for not being the kind of person who could cut ties at the blink of an eye.

Tears are in my eyes, revealing too much. They spill over my face, and I duck away. “I can’t do this,” I say. “I can’t.”

Electra is waiting in the yard as I get out. “Your new key,” she says, and drops it in my hand.

“I thought you weren’t going to call them today?”

“Changed my mind.”

“Thanks.”

Tyler waits in the car, as if expecting me to turn and give him a reprieve, but I don’t even look at him. I go to my door and unlock it and make it inside before I sink down against the wall.

I really wanted him.

I should have known better.

Girls like me don’t get guys like him.

Chapter FIFTEEN

I
t’s a bad night, sleepless and lonely. I’m starting to realize that I don’t have any friends left. Virginia is in a coma in the hospital, and the girls I talked to at work are probably scrambling as much as I am. And I’m realizing that Lucy was only my friend because I was with the band. I’m also on alert, waking at the slightest sound. In my head I know that Rick must still be in jail because there wouldn’t be any bail until Monday morning, but I’m still jumpy.

In the dark lonely middle of the night, I get up and bake some cookies, listening to the radio, the music turned low. It’s something to do, and it’s soothing. The batter feeds some sore spot in my heart, and when I’m done there’s a pile of cookies I can take to Henry.

Finally soft fingers of sunlight started to slide through the window, so I put on some shorts, make a cup of tea and head out to Electra’s garden. The cool morning air feels good on my tired eyes. All the plants have dew on them. I wander down the pathways, sipping tea, stopping to look at the flowers dotted with water, letting my brain finally get quiet. Out here I can stop thinking. Things don’t seem so hopeless.

After a while, I forget my tea and start pulling weeds from between the carrots, then around the squashes. Under the giant leaves I see bright new flowers and long green zucchini. My hands get dirty, and I start sweating, but by the time my stomach tells me it’s time for breakfast I’m calm again.

As I shower and make breakfast, the thing I think about is the fact that I have a job. Things are going to get easier now. I’m not going to let Tyler get in my way.

He left one message on my phone the night before. “I’m not going to be a second stalker, but I really like you, Jess, and I wish you’d give me a chance to explain. If you can’t, I’ll respect that. And you don’t have to worry—I won’t make things awkward at the Spoon. I promise.”

As I drive downtown, the words play over and over in my head. I’m torn exactly in half. On one hand, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sex we had yesterday on the beach. Not just good sex, but “I didn’t even know that I could feel anything like that” sex. I love kissing him and the way he feels against me, and, yeah, I have to admit it feels like there’s something special between us.

But I was so hurt by the way he acted with his sister. And whatever else it made clear, it emphasized the differences between us. He might think he’s falling in love with me or whatever, but I know what will happen. He’ll fall in love with the novelty of me, of my background, the whole savior thing, and then he’ll meet someone who has been to college or comes from some horsey family, and he’ll see me through her eyes. I’ve seen it happen before, and I just don’t want to be that stupid girl.

Really, I just don’t want to be hurt. I’ve had enough hurt in my life.

What
do
I want, though? That’s something Tyler has stirred up in me. I need to think about it, figure out a direction for my life. Virginia used to tell me over and over that you have to make choices or life makes them for you. So far, life has been making them and not doing the greatest job. I need to make my own.

There’s a small parking lot behind the restaurant. Sam told me to park there for now, and he’ll get me a parking slip for a lot on the corner. I bump down the alley, feeling nervous about running into Tyler, about starting the new job, about getting it right. My mouth feels dry and I wish I’d thought to bring my water bottle.

But there’s no one else in the lot when I get there. I walk up to the back door and try to open it, but it’s locked. When I knock, no one comes, so I go back to my car and lean on it, biting on my inner lip. I think about pulling out my new cell phone so I could text someone.

Not that I really have anybody to text.

It’s only a quarter to eight, so I get out the phone anyway and dial Henry. He picks up on the third ring, happy. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s kicking?”

I smile. “I got a new job! I’m waiting in the parking lot for the manager at the Musical Spoon right now.”

“No kidding! That’s really good news. I’ll come over and sit in your section once you get your sea legs, leave you a big tip. “

“That would be great. How are you doing?”

“You won’t believe this, but some guy saw some of my stuff and wants to come see the rest of it. Ain’t that something? He’s some big shot downtown.”

“Henry! That’s fantastic. See? I’ve been telling you for years.”

“Ah, well, we’ll see how it goes.”

There’s still no sign of anybody at the restaurant. “I told you I broke up with Rick, right? He came into my house on Saturday night and Electra called the police on him. They arrested him.”

“That boy has been trouble from day one. You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I touch my lip. “Do you know how I’d get a restraining order, though?” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I realize I mean it. “Is it expensive?”

“If you think you need to do that, Jess, I’ll help you. I’ve got something put aside for emergencies.”

“No, don’t do that. I’ll think about it a while longer.”

“Come by and see me this week. We’ll go out to supper.”

A truck pulls into the lot, green and battered, and I see Sam behind the wheel. He raises a hand at me. “Will do, Henry. The boss is here now. I’ve gotta go.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I say.

Sam climbs out, tossing his curly hair away from his eyes. He comes over and holds out his hand. “Hi, Jess. I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m really excited.”

“C’mon, let’s get you set up.”

He unlocks the door, and we’re in the kitchen. I love a morning restaurant kitchen, the gleaming stainless steel, everything all tidy and ready to go. “Can you get some coffee going?” he asks. “I’ll go get the paperwork and your uniform. Size…six?”

“Yes. Where’s the machine?”

He points to a row of them. “Filters below, coffee in the cupboard.”

“Got it.” I wash my hands first, then head over to the big machines. They’re not quite the same as the ones in my other jobs, but pretty close. The coffee, however, is much better. I can tell by the smell when I open the foil package. It’s rich and dark and deep, and I’m so ready for a cup I practically climb inside. I push the button and the first machine starts to gurgle. Sam isn’t back, so I look around, getting my bearings.

The kitchen here is a lot smaller than Billy’s, but it’s also more open, which gives it a sense of spaciousness. The stoves and ovens are on one wall, the prep stations along another. A cooler and freezer stand side by side, and through a small doorway is the dish room. A conveyer runs through it. “Wow, that’s cool,” I say aloud, and put my hand on it.

“Right?” Sam says. “You wouldn’t believe how much time it saves.”

“Oh, I would.”

He’s wrapped a red apron over his clothes and pulled his hair back under a pale blue bandana. Under his arm is a pile of clothes. “You get three shirts, one skirt. Just the rules.”

“Okay.”

“There’s an employee restroom down that hallway, and you can grab a locker. I forgot to tell you to bring a lock, so I’ll see if I can hunt one down for you.
Do
lock things. Theft is sometimes an issue.”

“Got it.” I carry the clothes into the small bathroom. You can tell how old the building is back here. The floors are creaky and slightly slanted. The light is bad. I change into the uniform, a golf style shirt in different colors—he’s brought me pink, turquoise and a strong lime green—and a black skirt with pockets. I choose the turquoise because it’s one of my best colors and I want to be strong when Tyler comes in. Before I left, I put my hair into a tight French braid. The only shoes I had are the sneakers I wore at Billy’s. They’re kind of battered, but I washed them off last night, so they’re at least clean. Comfy, too.

I put my stuff in a locker, and Sam is waiting with a combination lock, which I put in place, then we pour coffee and head into the restaurant to fill out the paperwork.

I’m just starting to relax when the back door slams. “Hello!”

It’s Tyler. His voice reverberates down my spine, and I suddenly feel shaky.

“Out front!” Sam calls, then turns to me. “Ty’s going to show you the kitchen and explain the service, then Mollie is coming in at ten to train you in the front of the house. You’ll shadow her today and tomorrow, and then probably take a shift on your own Wednesday if you feel up to it.”

“Of course. Am I working lunches, then?”

“Probably some split shifts once we get you trained. Is that good? People tend to want more hours, and that’ how we can get them.”

“Yes.” The hair on my neck rises in anticipation and I know Tyler has come into the room. “How many hours usually?”

“Twenty-five to thirty, most of the time.”

Twenty-five will kill me, unless the tips make the difference, but I nod. “I’m not afraid of working, so I’m happy to do what you need.”

“Good attitude.”

“I told you,” Tyler says from the counter. He has a white bakery bag in one hand and grabs a rectangular white plate with the other, stacking forks and napkins on it. I’m trying not to look at him, but even twelve hours away from him and my entire body feels like it’s been in withdrawal. His hair catches the low light in the room, and I find myself looking at the back of his neck, where I kissed it yesterday. I think about his scars, his skin, his tattoos.

I take a breath, force myself to finish filling in the last few boxes on the forms. I sign my name and push the pages back over the table.

Tyler comes over, bringing with him the smell of sugar and yeast. My stomach, annoyingly, growls. Tyler chuckles. “You are the hungriest woman I’ve ever met.”

I don’t look at him. “I’m not an idiot—I ate a good breakfast.”

“Slow down there, kid,” Tyler says. “No one’s accusing you of anything.”

I glance at him, then Sam, who isn’t paying attention to us at all as he goes over what looks like a schedule in front of him. I glance at Tyler, and he’s waiting, his mouth sober. “I brought you a bear claw,” he says.

“Thanks.”

He winks. “It was the biggest pastry they had.”

Against my will, I laugh. “Come on, I’m not that bad.” I take a bite, and it’s fantastic, all sugar and dough and hints of cinnamon. Tyler is watching me, his eyes on my mouth as—and there’s no way to do this gracefully—I lick a flake of sugar off my lip. He licks his mouth back, and I force myself to look away, but all of a sudden I’m back beside the water yesterday, his hands and mouth on my skin and—

No. I remind myself of the restlessness of last night, the humiliation at the hands of his sister. I wipe my fingers on a napkin. “Bet your sister doesn’t eat doughnuts.”

His face falls, and it’s sad enough that I feel bad for a second. But if this job is going to work, I’ve got to keep my distance.

Before Tyler can reply, Sam says, “What would you think about working Monday and Tuesday, lunch, Wednesday and Saturday split shift? You can probably pick up shifts on Sundays sometimes, too. People like to get them off, especially during ski season.”

“Sure.”

Tyler stands. “I’m going to get things going. Come on in the back when you’re finished, Jess, and I’ll show you around.”

I nod, and force myself not to look at that beautiful rear end as he leaves.

“Everything okay?” Sam asks.

“Fine,” I say.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” His eyes are astute as he looks at me.

I meet them straight on. “Understood.”

* * *

Tyler is setting up the kitchen when I come in, setting out steel tubs of pickles and chopped onions and various other things. A box of ripe red tomatoes sits on the prep table, along with a bag of onions and one of yellow potatoes.

“The uniform looks good on you,” he says.

I glance over my shoulder. “I really need this job. Please don’t make it hard for me to keep it.”

He’s close enough that I can see the chapped spot on his lower lip, smell his skin, that fragrance of Tyler, so particular and male. It rustles through my body, racing around awakening everything, and I know I need to move away, keep my head, but all I do is stand there looking up at him.

“I know you do,” he says. But he’s just standing there, too, inches away. I see him swallow. “I won’t fuck it up for you, I promise.”

“Thank you.” I move away, smooth my braid even though it’s braided so tightly there isn’t a single tiny wisp of hair out of place. “Why don’t you show me around?”