"Ditto for me. You can talk about it, if you need to."
I shook my head, cramming in another bite.
Jaime wasn't as easily dissuade as his mother. "I know this is about Nick."
I looked up guiltily.
"It's okay," he said. "You can care about him, or be sad over him, and still be my friend."
"But what he did to you..." I avoided saying the words because I knew it made Jaime nervous to say the G-word in his house.
"Yeah, I'm still pissed. He fucked up. But you guys have sparks. Maybe that’s worth the effort."
"You think?"
He shrugged. "Only you can decide that. Maybe he can be trained not to be such an asshat."
I laughed. Thinking like that is exactly what got me mixed up with Nick in the first place. I'd thought to teach him a lesson, but now I realized I couldn't fix Nick. I could only accept him for who he was, or walk away.
I wasn't yet sure what choice I would make.
***
I dragged myself upstairs to the guest room and changed into pajamas. I’d just climbed into bed when the phone rang.
Tequila's name came up on the screen, and I felt a flash of guilt. I'd been working but so much I hadn't seen her in weeks.
"Hey T, how are you? Sorry I haven't called lately."
"Hi, Edie. No worries. I thought maybe we could hang out this week."
"Oh, um let me think. I'm working a lot of hours."
I kicked myself again for letting tequila down.
"Oh, that's okay."
"I'm sorry. We really need to talk about how things are with your friends and Tyrone. I haven't forgotten." I groaned. "And I'll try to free up some time so we can start walking again."
"Hey, it's okay. Don't sound so stressed! Nick goes walking with me—”
"What, still?" I interrupted, startled.
"Well, again. He rescued me from a scary situation with Tyrone, and then talked to my parents and everything."
She filled me in on the details of what happened at the lake party, and my stomach clenched with fear at the idea of what might have happened if Nick didn't intervene.
With everything that happened between us that night, he still stopped to help tequila. Not only that, but he filled the void I left when I took on all these hours at work.
I should have been there for her. Thank God he was.
We said goodnight not long after and I promised to make more time in my schedule.
"Good! Nick is great, but I can't talk girl stuff with him. Plus, he's seemed kind of bummed. That boy needs to smile more."
My heart squeezed. "Yeah, I've been kind of bummed too. I guess it's going around."
"So call him," she said. "That would definitely cheer him up. You too, I bet."
For 13, she was very perceptive. I smiled sadly.
"I'll think about it, T. Goodnight."
NICK
The week after confessing to my family, I took a seat at a table in Edie’s section and nervously watched her keying in a ticket across the restaurant.
Would she see me and ask someone else to cover my table? Or would she look up and smile that shy smile of hers? It was probably too much to hope she’d be happy to see me.
Or maybe she wouldn’t notice me at all.
Edie crossed the room in long strides, her eyes on her order notebook. She looked distracted. She also looked really good. There was a tiny, shameful part of me that hoped she’d look as awful as I felt. But no. She was more beautiful than ever.
How did I not see that beauty the first time we met? I remember thinking she was pretty in an understated way. But there was nothing understated about the way my heart skittered in my chest.
“What can I get ya?” she asked, finally raising her eyes.
She jerked back in surprise to see me.
I smiled tentatively. “How about a full helping of crow?”
She hesitated, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at me.
“I … um, I forgot my break just started. I’ll get someone to come take your order.”
She was going to leave, without hearing a word I had to say. Desperate, I grabbed hold of her wrist as she turned away.
“Wait!” Her brown gaze finally met mine. “Please.”
Edie yanked her hand from mine and crossed her arms over her chest, but she stayed put. I sighed in relief, and immediately felt a new anxiety swamp me. If I screwed this up, that was it. Game over. I’d be done.
I was eager to tell her about the scholarship local businesses had agreed to create and disburse. I’d worked for weeks on local business leaders to charm them into giving out a scholarship with such short notice, but I promised it would be great publicity for all of them. But it wouldn’t mean anything to Edie unless we could get past my many screw-ups.
I cut to the chase. “I told my family about Elana.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was pretty clear she thought I’d never do it. That hurt, but I deserved it. I’d fought the suggestion wholeheartedly when she told me I needed to do it.
“How’d that go?” she asked.
“Oh, you know … horrible.” I let out a weak chuckle.
Her expression softened. “You did the right thing.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Another table waited, and I sensed her desire to escape.
I also didn’t miss the way the eyes of the two men at that table glued themselves to her ass. They were old enough to be her father, for fuck’s sake.
Pushing down my irritation, I blurted the question I most needed her to answer: “Can you forgive me?”
She turned back, eyes wide.
“I’m not above begging, Edie. What I did, trying to start something with you to avoid the Elana issue, that was wrong. But you know that wasn’t my only motivation. I care about you.”
Edie shook her head in denial, a sad smile on her face. “You’re kidding yourself, Nick. We barely knew each other.”
“Edie—”
“I can’t do this right now,” she said quickly, taking a step away. “I’m working. I’m … really proud of you, for coming clean with your family, Nick. I hope you can move on now.”
With that, she was gone in a swirl of skirt. I sat stunned, watching her slim figure wind among tables.
I’d lost her … not that I’d ever had her at all.
EDIE
I sought out the busboy, Logan, and asked him to go take Nick’s order.
Seeing him here, so suddenly, had me rattled. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks, and it’d taken me almost all of that time to put him out of my mind enough to focus on my job. Now, here he was ruining the delicate balance I’d finally achieved.
“I’m not a waitress,” Logan complained.
“Please? I’ll give you some of my tips tonight.”
“Half of your tips,” he corrected, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Ten percent,” I countered.
“A quarter, and that’s my final offer.”
Logan was driving a hard bargain, but as much as I couldn’t deal with Nick, I couldn’t bear to send out the only other waitress on shift just now. Rissa was too friendly with regular customers. Put a hot guy like Nick in front of her, and she’d probably offer to give him a complimentary lap dance. I wasn’t ready to see that.
I shoved Logan in the shoulder. “Fine. Just go before Rissa spots him.”
His grin widened. “Me thinks Edie has a crush …”
At the dark look I gave him, his smile faded. “Ah, I see. Sorry.”
His expression told me he’d figured out my crush was more like crushing.
Oh God, why didn’t I just say I forgave him? He did what I asked, didn’t he?
I felt so confused. Part of me wanted to run to him; the other part wanted to run away. I was afraid, and I wasn’t even sure I knew why anymore.
Logan strode over to Nick’s table, and I busied myself with work. I had to shove Nick out of my head, or I’d never make it thr
ough the night.
***
After a long shift, I picked up my last tip and swiped a rag over the table, grimacing as my fingertips grazed the sticky surface. I adjusted my grip and scrubbed at the wing sauce that had dripped on the table.
“Hey, Edie!” Logan called.
I straightened and pressed a hand to the small of my back. A 10-hour shift, all on my feet, had left me exhausted. The Nick shocker hadn’t helped, either. I’d been strung tight the rest of the night.
Despite my best efforts, I’d watched him from the corner of my eye until he left.
He was still gorgeous, but a lot less polished than usual. His hair looked in need of a trim, and he’d been wearing faded jeans and a wrinkled band T-shirt. It was a good look on him, but it wasn’t the way he usually dressed to go out.
Judging by his bittersweet smile, the family confession had been brutal. I should have been more sympathetic. Instead, I’d come across like an unforgiving ice queen.
“Do I get a quarter of this tip, too?” Logan asked.
He brandished a check in my face.
My breath hitched in my throat. It was made out to Edie Mason in the amount of $5,000. I covered my mouth, stunned, as my eyes skimmed over it.
Who would leave this kind of tip? Searching out the signature line with my eyes, I saw: “Small Business Scholarship Fund.”
What the heck?
I snatched the check from his hand.
“I don’t understand. Who ….” I trailed off, looking at Logan’s face.
He nodded. “Yup, your boy left this on the table before he went. He asked me to take special care of it for you, and to not give it to you until the end of the night. He didn’t want to distract you while you were working.”
“Well then he shouldn’t have shown up at all,” I muttered.
I’d been distracted all night.
“Wow. That’s nice.”
I winced. Logan laughed and squeezed my shoulder.
“Just teasing. But seriously, none of my business and all, but that guy is head over heels for you. So what gives?”
Yeah, what did give? There was no way a guy like Nick could really be crazy about a girl like me.
Memories of playing videogames and joking around surfaced in my mind. We’d become friends, spending almost every evening together while I’d stayed at his apartment. He’d kissed me, several times. And yet, it was so hard to believe he’d thought of me as anything other than a convenient way to distract his family from the truth about his affair with Elana.
A small voice of reason whispered over the self-doubts. Telling his family the truth was anything but convenient, but he did it.
“Edie?” Logan prompted.
I shrugged. I was at a loss, but I knew I’d have to talk to Nick and really listen to what he had to say. He deserved that much.
Turning my attention back to the check, I asked, “Did he tell you how he came to have this? Or how the heck I won a scholarship I didn’t even know existed?”
Logan held up something else. “He left this on the table too, and said he’d really like you to call him to talk about it.”
It was a photocopy of a news article. I could see the headline, “Local businesses step up for local students” and the familiar photo of Nick that ran with all his columns.
Grabbing the photocopy, I skimmed it enough to get the gist of the story. A dozen local businesses had teamed up to create a scholarship for one local student each year, and for their inaugural year, they’d decided to award it to the “lonely graduate” featured in one of Nick’s earlier columns.
Me. They’d decided to give the scholarship to me.
That was a fortunate coincidence. Or was it? Had Nick merely written this column, or had he suggested I would make a good recipient? I wasn’t sure it mattered. I needed the help, and now I had it. Nick’s role – whether as a reporter, or something more – had helped me. That godawful column that threw my life into chaos had helped me.
“Call the poor guy,” Logan said, before grabbing up his tub of dishes and continuing to clean up.
As he turned his back, it fully sank in.
I could go to college. This check would more than cover my expenses. If I was frugal, I could even stretch some of it to help with the following year, once I combined it with my summer’s earnings.
A smile spread across my face as weeks of worry dropped away.
No more working until I dropped. No more taking every possible shift and letting down Tequila. This check was more than the means to go to school.
It was freedom.
I tucked the check and photocopy into a pocket of my apron and picked up the nearly forgotten rag.
That’s when the first tornado siren began to blare.
NICK
I waited all evening for her to call.
I checked my phone three times before 10 p.m. Each time there were no missed calls or texts — and how could there be, with me sitting on top of my phone?
My gut tightened with disappointment. I tried to reason it out. Maybe she was closing tonight. Maybe she thought it was too late to call. And maybe that ridiculous guy she’d sent over after they’d smiled and laughed and had more physical contact than I liked hadn’t even given her the check.
Asshole.
I rolled my eyes at myself. Jealousy over the blond guy who looked like he’d be more at home on a beach than in a restaurant in the Midwest (and looked a little too much like Jaime) was pointless if Edie never talked to me again. I had to get her to forgive me first. Then I could eradicate the competition.
This scholarship announcement had me on edge. Edie might accept it and be thankful, or she might think I was trying to buy her affection. I wasn’t counting any chickens before they hatched.
My cellphone rang, and my heart nearly shot out of my chest. Then turned to lead when I looked at the caller ID: It was The Sentinel, not Edie. She hadn’t called.
I answered reluctantly. The Sentinel only called when they had questions about my column or there was breaking news and no one to cover it. My next column wasn’t written yet, so I knew what was coming.
“Nick’s busy, but state your business at the beep.”
“Ha, funny,” Jorge, our night news editor, replied dryly. “Get your ass to the office, pronto.”
“What’s up?”
“Are you kidding?” he sounded incredulous. “Have you not seen the tornado warnings on TV? There’s a huge storm headed right this way. I’m trying to rally as many troops as I can to ride it out here, so we’re not spread out all over town and trapped who knows where once the storm passes. It’s going to be a long night.”
Now that I thought about it, I had dimly registered the whine of a siren in the distance. Id been too distracted to think about what it meant.
Lost in my misery of waiting for Edie’s call, I’d done my best to lose myself in playing games on my phone to pass the time. I hadn’t had the television on in hours.
“Shit. Is it safe to drive there now?”
“Yeah, should be. Forecasts are saying it’s still a ways out. But we need to be prepared.”
I felt a familiar tingle of anticipation. I might not be a news junky like some of our staffers, but this kind of news coverage motivated even us slackers. I felt the call of journalism as I hadn’t in a long time.
“I’ll be there in 5.”
Hell, it wasn’t as if I had other plans. Edie hadn’t called, probably wasn’t going to call. And if she did, I’d have my cellphone handy. But that did give me pause. Did she know about the storm? Was she safe?
Yanking on my shoes with one hand, I called Edie’s cell with the other. It rang again and again until it clicked to voicemail. I hung up and called again as I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.
Still no answer.
I tried one more time on the way to The Sentinel, feeling uneasy while repeatedly telling myself she wasn’t answering because she was working. And I should be happy about that. It e
xplained why she’d never called me after I left the restaurant.
But I didn’t like not knowing for certain she was safe.
Finally, resignedly, I sent a text message asking her to call and let me know she was safe as I pulled into The Sentinel parking lot, and hustled inside. I couldn’t help feeling I should do something more to reach her, but Edie had been screening my calls for weeks. If she didn’t want to talk to me, she wouldn’t.
I’d have to trust she was smart enough to keep herself safe.
CHAPTER 17
NICK
The tornado hit sooner than expected, and I’d barely arrived at the news office before we were hustled downstairs. There, I paced restlessly, glaring at the useless phone in my hand. Between the storm and the basement, there was no reception and no way for me to reach out to Edie or anyone else.
We kept tabs on the tornado with a weather radio, so I knew my family would be fine. On the east edge of town, they were out of the tornado’s path. But Edie could have been at work — right on the border of where the tornado bulldozed through brick and mortar— or she could have been driving somewhere in between. I didn’t even know where she was staying these days. If she was going to Lil’s, she should be fine.
By the time they let us out of the basement, I was driving myself crazy with “what if” scenarios. When I got upstairs, my cell signal miraculously returned. I called her cell and held my breath that she had reception and hadn’t been caught in the storm.
Please go through. Please pick up.
“Hello?”
Edie’s voice was a little too high, a little too shaky. Still, my pulse settled a bit once I heard her voice.
“Edie, thank God! Are you okay?”
“Nick?” she said hesitantly, and I worried for an instant she might blow me off. Instead, she took a deep breath and began babbling. “I’m fine. Oh God, I’m so relieved you are too. You are, right? You’re not calling from a hospital or something?”
“I’m fine,” I reassured her. Then, I delivered the worst news ever. “Edie, it hit your parents’ neighborhood.”
She gasped. “Which one? My mom’s or my dad’s?” she asked in barely more than a whisper.
Earning Edie (Espinoza Boys #1) Page 23
