Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(39)
“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.