The Holiday Switch(23)

My interest sparks. “A recommendation?”

“Yup.” He doesn’t look up at me. “Blogger recommendation. Book blogs are how I find my next read.”

He reads blogs.

Teddy is truly an onion. With every layer, there’s more to discover. Now if only he didn’t irritate like one.

Another thought occurs: Why would he even need to tell me that he takes blogger recommendations? Did he snoop into my notifications? Did he read my blog?

“Did you see?”

“See what?” I ask, snapping back to focus, now skeptical. Blogger recommendation, his seemingly relaxed attitude, and this second place setting for me. This is too cordial of an interaction thus far. Did he see me and my friends last night? What’s he up to??

He points to a flyer, taped face out against the windowpane he’s sitting next to.

I frown and shake my head.

He peels back the paper with nimble fingers and flips it over. On top is the Bookworm Inn logo and, below it, information about New Year’s Eve by the Lake.

My suspicions fall back a step with this change of topic. “Oh wow, the news is out.”

    He points around the restaurant, where the red flyer is taped up in strategic places: on every booth windowpane, the host’s podium, and next to the jukebox. In my anticipation, I hadn’t even noticed.

“Do you think people will come?” he asks.

“Are you kidding? We’re talking about Holiday by the Lake.” At the thought of work, I take out his phone from my backpack and hand it to him. Enough small talk. “Anyway…here.”

He peers at me. “You didn’t read my texts, did you?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then where are my notifications?” He thumbs the screen.

“I dunno.” Exasperation fills me, and I take back all my positive thoughts about this guy. Serenity doesn’t exist here. “Maybe when I answered the phone they went away? Why would I be interested in your texts?”

His expression is both dubious and amused. After a beat of silence, he says, “Hmm.”

Hmm? My gut’s screaming He knows something even if he’s not saying so. “Did you check my notifications?” My iPhone flashes, and sure enough there are a slew waiting for me. Relief floods me for a beat, but I remember—my notifications only quit showing on the lock screen after I click on them. He could have read them.

“I mean, I couldn’t help it,” he says.

“So you did!” I yell, then take my volume down when heads turn my way and the waitress sends me a warning look.

“I thought it was my phone at first. Can you blame me? But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that your dad can’t figure out what to get your mom for Christmas, or that your sister’s mad you took the last bagel. What a mean Ate Lila you are.”

    If that’s all he read, then I’m in the clear. And with no mention of last night, I relax a smidge. Still, the remnants of my flighty, flirty thoughts about Teddy go whoosh. “All right, thanks for my phone. I’m out.”

“Wanna join me for breakfast? Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

This conversation is like being on a sled on a bumpy hill on an icy, slick day. I have no idea when the next bump and turn will be. “Is this a trick?”

He barks out a laugh. “No. Why would I want to trick you?”

Because you’re being too nice right now. “Because you have been a sparkler in my behind since you got here.”

His mouth rounds in an O.

I still. Did I just say that? And to the boss’s nephew? “I mean—”

“Wow.”

“I need to get to school.” I slide out of the booth, my cheeks aflame.

“That’s too bad.” His voice is teasing. “Because I ordered a ton of food.”

“Excuse me,” says a woman behind me, and I sidestep. The server sets down a large platter of pancakes, sausage, and bacon. “Here’s the family-style breakfast and a side of fried marshmallows.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says to her oh so sweetly. “Oooh, and the fried marshmallows. Didn’t you want to try them, Lila? It’s on your calendar.”

I narrow my eyes. The sneak. What else does he know?

The server smiles at him and pats me on the shoulder. “Aren’t you staying, hon? I brought out another plate for you.”

“Thank you,” I answer, though my appetite is nowhere to be found. I slip back into the seat, fully intending to ignore the food. Even as my mouth begins to water, the traitor.

    But he’s got me. I can’t take off until I know, for sure, what kind of information he has about my blog. I also can’t leave him with a bad impression that he can take to Ms. Velasco.

“Now that we got the sparkler bit out of the way.” Teddy half laughs, though his expression has tightened.

Guilt settles in. “Teddy, I didn’t mean…Well, I did…but I wish I hadn’t said it.”

“It’s okay.” He gestures to the food. “Be my guest.”

“I’m not hungry.” And yet, my tummy grumbles so loud that the table vibrates. It’s the bacon. Me and bacon are like icing to sugar cookies: there’s no such thing as too much.