MacKenzie Fire(71)

“Hey, Tate? Yeah, it’s me, Hannah. Your date’s here waiting for ya. Does Ian know you’re meeting her here?”

Total troublemaker. Her next call is probably going to be to Ian telling him exactly what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with. I got the impression last night that he’s not much of a fan of Tate, and who knows what Hannah’s ultimate motivation is.

She pauses and then looks up at me. “You going to wait for him?”

I nod.

“Yeah, she’ll wait.” She winks at me. “Okay, I’ll tell her. See ya.” She hangs up and points to the counter at the far end of the restaurant, just to the right of the fry-cook window. “Have a seat, he’ll be here in two seconds.”

Making my way from the front door to the farthest seat in the entire place reminds me of a recurring nightmare I have, where everyone in the room stares at me and says nothing. There must be fifty people in here and apparently nothing they were talking about before I got here is as interesting as I am.

Yes. It’s true. I am a human silencer. No one speaks when I draw near, but unlike my nightmare, I am wearing pants, so the sensation isn’t as horrible today as it is when I’m sleeping.

When I sit down on the stool, it starts to tip to the right and then stops. I’m stuck at a thirty degree angle. Whenever I try to straighten it out, it makes a horrible squeaking noise and then flops to the other side.

Squeeeak … bonk! Squeeaak … bonk!

Hannah puts an empty coffee mug down in front of me. “Regular or decaf?”

“How about a new chair?” I get up to look underneath the seat. What I see immediately makes me wish I hadn’t bothered. Talk about nasty dirty. Surely they’ve heard of bubonic plague in Baker City?

I get back up on the seat and try to smile as I tip sharply to the right, but it’s kind of difficult considering the hairy gray goop just under my butt. I put my hands on the sides of the chair cushion to help me balance, but I keep my fingers pointed at the ground so they don’t accidentally touch any of the plague germs underneath me.

Squeeeak … bonk!

I hope this seat really is covered in genuine vinyl and not some other more porous material.

“Can’t get you a new seat, sorry. Got a full house, as you can see.” She sighs, like I’m annoying her. “So? Regular or decaf?”

The door opens and bells jangle. Turning around, I see Tate standing in the entrance, taking his hat from his head. Several people call out to him and he nods or waves as he makes his way towards me, his hat poised in front of him near his waist.

He’s even better looking in the full light of day than he was at night, which I’m pretty sure violates some very important laws of optical physics. At this point I’m starting to question whether there are any ugly cowboys out here in Oregon.

“You made it,” he says, grinning as he approaches.

“Sorry I was late. I’ve never driven in snow before.”

Squeeeeak … bonk!

My chair tips to the other side and I grab both the counter and his arm to keep from falling off. “Damn chair’s busted too. I guess today’s not my day.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t far away.” He looks out over the room as he steadies me at my hip with a big, strong hand. “Hannah, you got any other seats?”

“For you, Tate? Any day. Just hold on a sec and I’ll go get rid of someone for ya.”

I turn back to find Hannah winking at him.

Ugh. I really just want to slap her right now, even knowing she’s rescuing me from this wonky, effed-up carousel chair that she took way too much pleasure in offering to me.

Two minutes later, Tate and I are sitting in a booth facing each other, and I’m trying to act natural. It’s hard when I know he likes me but I’m only there to pump him for information. It feels dishonest and makes me nervous as a result. Yes, he’s cute, but the fact is, he isn’t Ian. I’ve only got eyes for the one guy I can’t really have.

“Tell me you’re not one of those girls who doesn’t eat real food,” he says, smiling in a teasing way.

“No, that’s not me. I’m getting a waffle and some bacon.”

He smiles bigger and looks down at the menu. “That’s what I’m talking about. We’ll get two of each and I’ll have some eggs also, I think.”

After Hannah takes our order, he leans back against his seat and rests his arms across the back of it on either side. “Go ahead, then. I know you just came here to interrogate me.”

I grimace, totally busted. He’s way smarter than I expected him to be for as good-looking as he is. “That sounds terrible.”

He waves me off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I know my place now. Ian squared me up. Just tell me what you want to know, and I’ll see what I can tell you or find out for you.”

I ignore the Ian-squaring-him-up comment in favor of the open book he’s offering me. Andie first, Ian later.

“Okay, so what are the rumors about Andie? Why doesn’t she have any friends here?”

He reaches up and spins his knife around on the top of the table, staring at it as it goes around. “I suppose it could be a combination of things.”

“Like …?”

“Well, maybe the circumstances of her being here to start with.” He stops the knife spinning and then starts it again in the opposite direction.