Authors: Tia Giacalone
I stared at him in disbelief. He’d been absent for almost twenty minutes and then returned with no apology or explanation, as though leaving us sitting there was no big deal.
You can either start an argument with him now, or you can brush it off and feed your hungry child
, I thought.
The waitress approached our table again and I smiled brightly. Too brightly. “Everything looks delicious. Let’s order!”
Over an hour later, I was struggling to my car under the full weight of a nearly sleeping Annabelle and my big purse filled with her toys and books. The meal had been interrupted twice more for Chase to take phone calls but neither lasted as long as the first. I picked my way through the large steak and potato I ordered and tried to listen as Chase talked, but the evening’s mood was stilted and awkward. What was the point of him inviting us? He was gone from the table more than he was sitting there, and he was on edge the entire meal, fidgeting with his napkin.
I hefted Annabelle up on my hip again. She’d been an almost perfect angel tonight, so polite and sweet even though I knew she was hungry and probably bored. As we were leaving, Chase ran into a dealership customer at the bar and decided to stay and have a nightcap, so Annabelle and I said our goodbyes and left.
I shook my head as I finally reached my car. After I buckled Annabelle, I sat down heavily in the driver’s seat. If tonight was any indication of how we could fit into Chase’s new life, I wasn’t sure I could take it.
Chalk up one more disillusioned dream for the Chase Dempsey scrapbook.
I let down my hair and pulled off my heels for the half-hour drive home.
Chapter 7
I’d never been more grateful in my life that Kent’s Kitchen didn’t require some horrible retro diner uniform. My parents had banished the awful polyester mini-dresses when they'd rebranded the old restaurant twenty years ago, and I think every waitress we’d had since then deeply appreciated that, myself included.
My personal work outfit of choice usually consisted of skinny jeans, Converse, and a black v-neck shirt, with our signature red half-apron over the top. Sometimes I wore a skirt or shorts, and sometimes I forgot my name tag, but I rarely varied from my usual ensemble. And the name tag didn’t matter anyway because everyone already knew me.
It normally took me approximately seven minutes to get ready for work but this would go down in history as The Day I Primped For An Hour, because today I would work my first shift with Fox.
My ponytail was extra bouncy, my lips matched my red apron (which I’d ironed), and I actually ran the lint roller over my black shirt before I slipped it on. Checking myself out in the mirror, I decided I looked perfectly casual. Ridiculously excited, but casual. An entire five hours with Fox… I had no right to be so happy about that, and yet here I was.
Just a new friend
, I reminded myself. That’s all he could ever be.
Something to distract you from the low-grade uncertainty of your relationship with Chase. Fox has never shown a lick of interest in you anyhow. Watching you carry plates and refill iced teas isn’t going to make him suddenly fall in love
.
Fall in love? I blinked halfway through my mascara application, creating a smudgy mess underneath my right eye.
“Get it together, Avery.” Sure, now that I was speaking my inner monologue aloud, I was the very vision of sanity. A wayward stuffed bunny that Annabelle had left perched on the bathroom counter eyed me skeptically.
“Oh, nobody cares what you think.” And now I was talking to toys. If I made it through these next five hours without Fox questioning my mental stability, I’d be thrilled.
I quickly cleaned up the mascara mess as best I could and grabbed my purse to head out the door. The drive to the diner seemed like it took forever, but just a few minutes later I was walking through the glass doors.
“Good mornin’, my dear!” Joy greeted me as I stowed my bag. “Slow so far, but I’m sure the lunch rush will pick up.” She glanced over her shoulder. “The new cook seems to be finding his way.” Her eyes twinkled as she took in my appearance.
“Oh, is it Fox’s first day? I totally forgot.” I ducked my head, busying myself with the all-important task of rearranging my pens in my apron pockets.
“Mmmhmm.” Joy gave me a sidelong look before she grabbed the coffee pot and headed over to one of the only occupied tables.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t as subtle about the Fox fascination as I’d previously thought. But then again, Joy made it her business to know my business, even more than my own mother. The fact that she was on to me just meant I had to pull it together before Fox noticed.
Fifteen minutes later, I found out that I had little to worry about when it came to Fox noticing anything about me. I approached the window with my first order ticket, all set to deliver a cheerful, nonchalant greeting.
“Hey Fox! Good morning,” I said brightly, sliding my ticket into the spinning order wheel. “Order up.”
“Thanks.” He grabbed the ticket from the wheel and turned his back to pull some items from the walk-in. I stood in stunned silence for a moment at his quick dismissal before I spun on my heel and headed back out to the front counter.
Perceptive as always, Joy felt the shift in my attitude as I returned the menus to their shelf, and I caught her small smile out of the corner of my eye.
I blew my long bangs out of my face in exasperation. “What?”
She patted my hand. “Not a thing, darlin’.”
I huffed the rest of the way through my shift, my irritation growing. What was the point of Fox going out of his way to tell me he’d be working at the diner if he was going to basically ignore me once he started? Sure, he was pleasant enough, but there was little-to-no eye contact, no smiles, and certainly not a single dimple. After two or three orders with the same result, I stopped making any effort and instead just rang the bell whenever I dropped off my tickets.
When I picked up my last table’s order, Fox called after me. I almost dropped my tray but I managed to turn smoothly and respond. “Yes?” My voice came out a little frosty but I didn’t care.
Fox’s mouth turned up on one corner, enough to show a hint of his dimple. His green eyes flashed with intensity, drawing me in, and I barely noticed when he reached across the pass-through and set a ramekin on my tray.
“You forgot your tartar sauce.”
I glanced down at the little dish and when I looked up again, he’d walked away.
* * *
“Are you even listening to me, Avery? You’ve been stirring that damn pot for ten minutes.”
I jumped a little bit at the impatient edge in Chase’s voice. “Sorry.” Glancing down at the noodles, I realized he was right. I quickly turned off the stove and grabbed three bowls from the cupboard.
Annabelle came padding in from the living room and climbed into her booster seat as I placed the filled bowls on the table, along with a platter of cut apples and oranges.
“I don’t want this. Do you ever make anything but kid food?” Chase pushed his bowl away.
Annabelle looked at me, her eyes wide. In her world, macaroni and cheese was the best thing to ever happen, period. She was just about to open her mouth, likely to ask me why Chase wouldn’t want to eat her favorite dish, when I cut in.
“I usually make one meal, and Annabelle and I eat together. Sorry if it’s not up to your standards. You’re welcome to cook something yourself next time.” My annoyed words had the desired effect because Chase looked sufficiently abashed. He grabbed an orange wedge from the platter and stuck it in his mouth.
“Sorry, babe,” he muttered around the peel.
Annabelle giggled. “You have an orange smile.”
Chase turned to her, the orange rind covering his teeth. “I do? How did that happen?” His words were muffled but Annabelle shrieked with laughter.
I relaxed back into my chair. Chase could be so irritating in one moment and then completely endearing the next. His moods seemed to be all over the place lately, and it was beginning to wear on me. At the end of each day I never knew which Chase I should expect: the smiling charmer or the impatient brooder.
After Annabelle was in bed, Chase pulled me onto the couch and into his arms. We’d made it through the rest of the evening without any friction, and I felt my muscles softening as he kneaded my back. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as his hands slowly moved up and down my spine. The lulling sensation had me closing my eyes and leaning into his touch as I let myself drift.
“Are you fucking sleeping?” Chase pulled away and my eyes snapped open.
“What? No. I’m just relaxing,” I protested but he was already pulling himself into a standing position.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me with this shit, Avery. I know you have a hard life and whatever, but you just fucking fell asleep on me in the middle of our date. Is this how it’s always gonna be? You’re too tired to even spend time with me?” Chase shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his jacket.
I shrank back into the couch, shocked by his bitterness. “I’m sorry,” I said slowly. I realized then that it was the third time I’d apologized to him that evening, and I wasn’t actually sorry. I worked all morning, wrote a paper and cared for my child all afternoon, and then cooked dinner and tried to engage with my selfish boyfriend all evening.
“You’re sorry, you’re sorry. That’s all you ever say. I don’t feel like I’m a priority to you. This relationship isn’t a priority to you.” As Chase’s voice took on a lecturing tone, my patience ran out.
While part of me realized he was right, that I wasn’t making our relationship a priority, I also knew that he never took into account all of the responsibilities I had as a mother, a student, and a person who paid her own bills. This wasn’t high school, when I could sit for hours on end in the bleachers and watch him toss a ball around. This was real life; it was messy and imperfect. And it wasn’t changing anytime soon.
But instead of recognizing that, and at least trying to understand, Chase continued to bitch and moan about where he fit into my life.
Find yourself a place
, I wanted to scream at him. Be the man I can’t live without, instead of the man I’m not sure I can live with.
Chase stared at me, waiting for a response, but I had none. Anything I could say at this point would be colored by my building annoyance, and I knew too well that once words were spoken, there was no going back. Chase and I would have no hope for survival if I unleashed on him today.
I stood and walked over to where Chase was standing by my front door.
“You know that’s not true. Please don’t leave upset. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Maybe by then I’d figure out what to say. Part of me hoped he’d hug me and say he overreacted, but the rest of me just wanted him gone.
Chase sighed. “Goodnight, Avery.” He shut the door behind him, and my immediate feeling of relief drowned any remorse I might’ve felt for the way the evening ended.
* * *
My mood was still affected the next day when I showed up for work. I couldn’t get Chase’s words out of my head, about how I wasn’t making him a priority, and his sarcastic tone when he said he knew ‘my life was hard.’
Joy noticed my funk, of course, but wisely chose to stay out of my way and not pry. I was in the middle of viciously scrubbing one of my vacated booths when I felt someone behind me. Figuring it was a customer waiting for the table, I plastered a smile on my face and turned. I couldn’t conceal my surprise when I saw Fox standing there. Flustered, I dropped my dishrag, and he leaned down to grab it just before it hit the ground.
“Thanks,” I muttered. The man had superhuman reflexes.
His brow creased with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I really meant no. Or yes. Or I’m not sure, how much time do you have? I took the dishrag from him and started to turn away.
“Avery, wait.” He put a hand lightly on my bare arm to slow me, and I stopped dead in my tracks, both out of automatic courtesy and the tingly electric feeling of his skin on mine. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” I looked down at my arm where his fingers still rested. Yesterday seemed like a lifetime ago.
What happened? Did he do something to me yesterday?
All I knew about yesterday was that Chase had hurt my feelings, and today I didn’t want Fox to move his hand, ever.
“I’ve been told I have a rather intense work ethic. That’s probably putting it lightly,” he conceded after a moment. “It was my first day, and I don’t like to make mistakes.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. It was just food, and certainly not the most important job he’d ever had, but I understood wanting to take pride in your work. “Okay.”
“You’re kind of… distracting.” He smiled then, my favorite Fox grin, complete with dimple. I found myself grinning back at him before I could help it.
“Am I?” And suddenly, I was flirting.
“Yes. In the best way.” He dropped his hand from my arm but his eyes blazed with something that lingered on my skin just as strongly. “But that’s my problem. And if I was rude, I apologize.”
My grin widened at his sincere words. “Apology accepted.”
“Great.” He gestured over his shoulder to the kitchen. “I’m going to get back to work.” He quickly filled a coffee mug and headed back through the swinging doors.
I returned to setting the empty table with a little smile on my face. For the rest of my shift, Fox was friendly and open, efficiently handling the lunch rush and asking me questions about my orders to ensure he got them correct. Joy and I passed on the compliments from our regulars, who insisted they’d never had a juicier burger or such perfectly crisp fries.
Fox nodded and acknowledged all the praise, never ceasing in his rhythm and prep movements. He wasn’t kidding about the work ethic. As far as I could tell, Fox put his entire focus into whatever his job happened to be at that minute. We were lucky to have him. For how long, I wasn’t sure.
That thought nagged me that evening as I brushed out Annabelle’s hair and got her ready for bed. Chase was out with some of his friends, and I was looking forward to nothing more than taking a long, hot bath and turning in early. But once again, I couldn’t get Fox out of my head. I knew I wasn’t imagining the look in his eyes, or the electric current that shot out of his fingers when his skin met mine. He must feel it too. And he’d apologized sincerely for his brusqueness yesterday, admitting that he was distracted by me.
In the best way
– a tingle ran through me when I remembered his exact words.