Beautifully Broken Pieces (Sutter Lake, #1)(18)

One of the older gentlemen who had been flirting with me earlier stood from his chair and threw his cards down on the table. “You’re a dirty cheat, Arthur, and you always were.”

I hustled around the counter as another man—Arthur I assumed—stood, as well. “I am not, Clint. Just because I’m better at cards than you doesn’t make me a cheat.”

I made it to the table just as it seemed the two might come to blows. “Now, fellas, what’s going on?”

Clint’s gaze jumped to me. “That-that no-good Art is a dirty cheat.”

“Am not!” Arthur huffed.

“Well, I’ve never played bridge, so I’m not sure I’d really be a good person to judge if someone was cheating.”

Both Clint and Arthur looked at me with shocked stares. “You’ve never played bridge?” Clint asked, all of his earlier anger suddenly gone from his voice.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Nope.”

Arthur shook his head. “Well, that’s just a travesty.”

Clint leaned in closer to me. “We could teach ya, you know.”

“You’d do that?”

Clint’s chest puffed up. “Of course.”

“I’d love it. I’m not working this time next week. Can I come to your game?”

“We’d love to have a pretty lady like you at our table,” Arthur offered.

“I’ll be there. But right now, I have to get back to work.” I breathed a sigh of relief as I headed back to the counter.

Jensen was back behind the register and wore a shit-eating grin. “You handled them better than I could have. Sometimes, they get so bad, I have no choice but to kick them out.”

I let out a little laugh. “They’re definitely passionate.”

“Understatement of the century. I’d say you’ve earned a break. Why don’t you take your fifteen.”

I glanced at my watch. “Sure. Do you mind if I head out back for some fresh air?”

“Of course, not.”

I waved to Tessa on my way through the kitchen to the back steps. I’d been careful since our first encounter not to make any sudden movements around her or come up from behind. “I’m just taking a quick break.”

She gave me a small smile. “Want some tea to take with you?”

“I’d love an iced lemongrass.”

Tessa made quick work of pouring me a glass. “Here you go.”

“You’re an angel sent from Heaven for overheated waitresses.”

She ducked her head. “No problem.”

I stepped out into the afternoon sun, the breeze lifting my hair off my neck, and took a sip of my tea nirvana. I slipped my cell out of my back pocket. I had to tell my mom about my date with two vicious bridge players next week. She would get such a kick out of that whole scene.

My thumb froze over the first contact in my favorites. My breath locked in my lungs. I couldn’t call my mom and tell her about Art and Clint and all the ridiculous shenanigans at my new job because she wouldn’t answer. I started breathing again, but it came in quick pants. She would never answer again. I’d never be able to tell her about something that made me laugh or cry or rage.

My hands started to feel all tingly, and I lost my hold on the glass of tea. It shattered on the asphalt at my feet, liquid splashing my jeans. My mom was dead.

“Taylor?” The soft voice seemed to come from far away. “Taylor, are you okay?”

Tessa appeared in my wobbly vision, but I couldn’t seem to form words. Why couldn’t I catch my breath?

“Taylor, I think you’re having a panic attack.” I could feel the gentle pressure of what I assumed was a hand on my back. “I want you to focus on that bench over there. Look at that bench, and you’re going to breathe in for three and out for three.”

My eyes zeroed in on the seat, but I couldn’t seem to get my lungs to obey.

“In for three, okay? One, two, three.” Tessa’s hand rubbed up and down my back. “That’s good. Now, out for three. One, two, three.”

Tessa kept counting, not stopping until my hands no longer shook, and I slowly came back to myself.

“Here, sit on the step for a minute.”

I gazed at Tessa. Her brow was creased with worry, but her eyes held understanding. “How did you know what was happening?”

Tessa sat down on the step next to me. “I heard the glass shatter and wanted to make sure you were all right. When I came out, you didn’t answer me, and you were hyperventilating. I put two and two together.” My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Tessa let out a soft huff of air. “I get them sometimes. Panic attacks. So, I know the signs.”

I glanced over at her. I wondered what her story was, but I knew I couldn’t ask without inviting questions about my own. We sat there quietly for a minute, forming a silent pact not to ask each other the questions neither of us wanted to answer.

I gripped Tessa’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. You kept me from passing out in a pile of glass shards.” I winced. “I’ll pay for that by the way.”

Tessa waved a hand. “Jensen doesn’t care about stuff like that. Says it’s the price of doing business.”