I don’t sleep but I do drift, blinking when the alarm on my phone starts going off. Reaching for it, I unlock it so the alarm would stop.
Then, I get moving. One part of my plan to wear Sydney down is to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner at Lola’s. I’ll keep a change of clothes in my car on the off chance she decides to try and give me another soda shower.
With a grin, I head to the shower.
Sydney is nowhere to be seen when I look for her at the diner.
After Gigi takes my order and pours my coffee, I ask, “Is Sydney working today?”
Her brows lift and still pouring, she tips her head to look over her glasses at me. “I don’t think she’d want me to tell you if she was.”
She stops pouring, not even looking to make sure it’s full, which it is.
My hands move to surround it. The warmth from the polka dotted mug, an accordion on one side and “if the music is good you must dance” on the other.
“Either way, I’ll be here for lunch. If I don’t see her, then I’ll be here for dinner.”
“Sounds good for business,” she murmurs, her lips tipping up as she walks away.
She didn’t answer my question but she didn’t seem opposed to my plan. I grin down at my coffee.
“Mind if I join you?”
I look to my right to see Reilly sliding onto the stool next to mine.
“How’ve you been? Settling in to the new place okay?”
She lifts her hand to wave at Gigi before turning my way. “The house is great. I don’t miss living in an apartment at all. I have the whole second floor to myself so it’s more space than I’m used to, but I thought I’d see Julie and Dylan more since they’re right downstairs. With our work schedules I hardly see them. It’s like living alone but not.”
Gigi comes down to pour Reilly a coffee and take her order.
“Is Sydney working today?” Reilly asks.
Gigi looks at me. “Getting Reilly to do your dirty work. For shame, Heathcliff.”
Frowning, I argue, “I didn’t ask her.”
Reilly’s eyes light up. “Why were you asking about Sydney’s schedule?”
Lifting my mug to my lips, I take a sip before I reply, “None of your business.”
She purses her lips and taps her fingers on the countertop. “I heard she poured a soda over your head.”
I look over my shoulder at the filling diner. “You and everyone else in town.”
She shrugs. “That’s the blessing and the curse of a small town; you get to have your neighbors all up in your business.”
“Curse is right,” I mutter.
She ignores my comment. “Speaking of business, who is handling the press release on the Commons project?”
Grateful that she’s changed the subject, I reply, “When I get in, I’ll check with Derek and text you.”
There’s a new complex of retail space going in on the east side of town. A new road and traffic signal need to go in before they can begin construction. Planning where to put the road and the signal is part of my job.
“Thanks, Heathcliff,” she teases.
I give her a look. There are only three people in town who use my full name, my parents, and they do it infrequently at that, and Gigi.
“So, I’m guessing by what Gigi said earlier, that Sydney is avoiding you.” When I don’t say anything, she elbows me. “Well?”
“It sounded like a statement. Or was there a question in there that I missed?” I reply.
She inhales. “Why are you being difficult?”
Gigi returns, my order in her hand.
“Thank you,” I murmur as she slides it in front of me.
Once she moves away, I return my attention to Reilly. “Look, I wasn’t joking when I said it wasn’t your business.”
She lifts her mug. “What if I could help?”
That piques my interest. “How so?”
“First tell me why she’s pissed at you.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re nosy?” I ask.
She gestures at herself. “I’m a reporter. It’s an occupational hazard.”
“That’s an excuse if I ever heard one,” I mutter.
“So, what’d you do to piss her off?”
I shake my head, pushing my plate away and downing the rest of my coffee. “Still none of your business.”
Gigi comes out with her food. As she places her napkin in her lap, she looks my way. “You change your mind, you let me know.”
“Change his mind about what?” Gigi asks.
“Nothing,” I reply, stepping off my stool and dropping some bills on the counter.
“Help getting Sydney to talk to him again,” Reilly adds.
Gigi grins. “See you at lunch, Heathcliff.”
I walk out of Lola’s hopeful that Sydney is working the lunch rush.
At work I’m distracted, spending more time checking the time than working. Other than following up with Reilly on her question from earlier, I haven’t accomplished much.
When my clock finally shows twelve, I don’t delay in driving to the diner.
Shifting my car into park, I scan the windows for a glimpse of her. When I don’t see her, my chest deflates, only to expand with the rush of my inhale as she comes into view.
Her black hair suits her even though it confuses my memories of our time together. Blonde or raven haired, I’m undecided as to which I like more. Could be it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s her.
I’m out of my car and across the lot to the door of Lola’s in no time. My feet are more sure than the rest of me.
There’s a bell that sounds as I step through the doorway. It’s subtle normally, but today it seems much louder. My nerves play tricks on me, no one glances my way but it feels as though everyone is looking at me.
News travels fast in a small town and by now everyone has to know that Sydney dumped a soda over my head. What she’s said I don’t know.
Since no one has directly called me out for being a dick to her, I don’t think she’s shared. That in itself is a miracle.
She’s standing near a booth toward the restrooms, one hand resting on the back of a seat, the other on her hip. She’s smiling down at whoever’s sitting there, but now she’s looking at me, her smile fading. Her hand falls from her hip, the sass in her stance faltering.
Holding her gaze, I lift my chin. She frowns before looking away.
There’s an empty booth close to the one she’s already working. Pointing my shoes in that direction, I move toward her.
As I pass behind her, I pause long enough to place my hand on her hip.
“Syd,” I murmur, my mouth near her ear.
She inhales, her back stiffening. My fingers tighten before I let her go, dropping my hand before I continue to the empty booth.
She pulls herself together as I watch, plastering on a smile that comes close to the one she wore before she saw me. Only this one does not reach her eyes.
When she finishes whatever she was saying to the couple in the booth, she turns toward me. She stares somewhere above my right shoulder as she smooths her apron over her dress before approaching me.
Early this morning, her hair was in a wild tangle on the top of her head but now it’s in a slick ponytail, her bangs off to one side.
She’s wearing makeup and I’m torn between when she was prettier—this morning when she looked sleepy and sexy all at the same time or now, with my attention drawn to her stormy violet eyes. But, it’s her fire-engine red lips that have my mouth going dry, thirsting for her.
She’s a pin-up girl come to life. It took me too long to figure out she’s exactly what I want.
“Want a soda?” she asks, still not making eye contact with me.
Her question is loud enough for anyone sitting near to hear. There are a couple of chuckles but I ignore them.
“Do you get a lunch break?” I ask.
Her eyes slide to mine. “Are you asking me to eat with you?”
I
nod.
She looks over my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“We don’t have to eat. We can sit and talk,” I reply.
“You have zip to say that I want to hear, Mackey. Now, I’m not going to turn away a paying customer so if you want food, now’s the time to order it.”
Rome wasn’t built in a day, or so that’s the saying. We’ll see how long it takes for me to get Sydney to give me another shot.
“I’ll take the lunch special,” I reply.
She waits a beat, maybe to see if I’m going to say something else. When I don’t, without a word, she walks away.
When my food is ready, she silently delivers it with a lemon-lime soda. After she leaves, I watch her go, enjoying the sway of her hips. Chuckling to myself, it seems she remembers I hate this soda. It’s progress though since it didn’t end up over my head.
While I eat, I watch her work. She’s warm and friendly, easily chatting with everyone but me. She’s a star in the sky, brightening the space around her with her smiles and laughter. When she’s near me, her light dims as if I pull it from her like a black hole.
The difference is so stark my head turns till the parking lot fills my vision. When I came up with my plan, I had overlooked what being in my presence would do to her.
Her anger has lessened but I had been too overwhelmed by it at first to recognize her pain. Dropping money, enough to cover my meal and a nice tip on the table, I leave.
Instead of making a point to touch her, like I had when I got there, I avoid her as I exit. Once in my car, hands on the steering wheel, my gaze stays on her as she moves to where I sat.
Belatedly, I regret not leaving her a note. Her head turns toward the window, her eyes scanning the parking lot until she sees me. Frozen, I sit in my car waiting for a reaction, something, anything.
She drops her gaze and walks away, giving me nothing. Squeezing my eyes closed, I exhale. Then I start my car and go back to work. Pushing her from my thoughts, I focus on all the work I half assed this morning.
It’s after six and I’m the last person to leave the office by the time I catch up. Instead of going straight to Lola’s, I head home first.
Changing from my suit into an old tee and a pair of soccer shorts, I pull on my sneakers and hit the canyon trails behind my building.
One thing that drew me to this place over others in the area is the view of the canyons. The nearness of them made any new construction to disturb that view unlikely.
I should use the trails more often. Today, I’m wired and a run will hopefully burn off some of this energy so I’m not tweaked when I go back to Lola’s.
The dry dirt is solid beneath my feet as I tackle one of the harder trails. We need rain. Arid air grates my throat with each breath. I push through the pain, needing it, needing the reminder that hard work pays off in the end.
By the time I’m on my way home, I’m wheezing. Two glasses of water and a lukewarm shower help. I change back into my suit from earlier. During our brief time together, she had said more than once how they turned her on. When going into battle, the right armor is fundamental.
“Any bets on if he’ll really be back for dinner?”
I clear my throat, making Allen and Clarey both jump. It’s so much fun being the subject of everyone’s wagging tongues. In fact, I’m thrilled they all have so little to worry about with their lives that they need to be all concerned about mine.
Clarey grimaces as she picks up her order and scurries away.
Allen holds my gaze as I hand him my order. Wisely, he doesn’t say anything. Turning away, I head for the backdoor instead of going back to the dining area.
All my tables are good for the next couple of minutes so I’m taking five. There’s a small vestibule at the back of the kitchen. From that small room is the opening to the stairs up to my apartment, the door leading back into the kitchen, and the exterior building door to the back lot.
I glance up the stairway before moving through the door to the back lot. There’s a picnic table across the way where smokers take their breaks. I tried smoking when I was seventeen because my bad-boy loser boyfriend was a smoker. After coughing my ass off, I decided it wasn’t for me.
The smoke still bothers me but since no one is at the table, I head that way while pulling my phone from my apron. My thumb moves over the screen to call one of my girls.
“Hey, girlie,” Gina greets.
“They’re making bets as to whether he’ll be back tonight or not.” I jump right in.
“Why are you even surprised?” she asks.
Turning around once I reach the table, I lean against it so I can face the diner. “I don’t know.”
“You’re the one who poured soda on him and got everyone talking in the first place,” she murmurs, a touch of irritation in her tone.
Even though I didn’t live full time in Ferncliff during my school years, I still made friends. Gina and Molly are my closest and I am currently still in the doghouse with both of them because I failed to spill the beans on Heath and I hooking up.
Thing is, I was so caught up in it happening that I didn’t come up for air to share with everyone until it was over. While I was staying with Cecil, I decided it was best to keep it to the two of us. Cecil didn’t know Heath and it was highly unlikely that their paths would ever cross.
With Gina and Molly, I had to worry about one or both of them saying shit to Heath if they saw him. Things were going great with my whole “don’t share” plan until Heath tried to apologize.
Sure, I could have quietly acted like nothing happened when Heath strolled into the diner. This is why they say hindsight is twenty-twenty. Once you have time to sit down and think things through the likelihood of you not getting pissed and dumping soda on someone is increased.
Sucks for me, but I wasn’t prepared and went off half-cocked. You live, you learn. Obviously that’s the case since I didn’t pour soda on him today.
Thing is, Gina and Molly both thought I was insane for being annoyed at Heath still. Maybe since I didn’t graduate from Ferncliff High, Heath’s golden boy status in town wasn’t ingrained in me. Gina was married with two kids and she still screamed so loud when I admitted we had sex that my ears rang.
Molly was currently giving me the cold shoulder because she called dibs on him the summer we turned sixteen. Even though thirteen years have passed and she is seeing someone, she’s still giving me the silent treatment.
Part of me wonders if Gina is only talking to me now so she can report back to Molly. God, I should have called Cecil.
But, they’re my girls so my impulse is to vent and get advice from them. What stings is, for some strange reason, it feels like I’m the bad guy in their eyes.
Directing my gaze skyward, I say, “Yeah, I shouldn’t have done that. Well, I just walked outside to call but I should probably get back.”
“Are you going to talk to him?” she asks, ignoring my attempt to wrap up the call.
“No clue,” I murmur.
It’s the truth. Rationally, I get that the adult thing would be to talk to him. At lunch today I proved that I can be in a crowded room with him and function. Anything more than that, I just don’t know.
“You got time for me tonight?”
That’s what he had said before I dumped the soda on him. Granted, it could be argued that he hadn’t meant it to sound like it did. But, to me, after a long shift, it sounded like he wanted to book my bed by the hour.
“Maybe he only wants to be friends,” she says.
At her words, my gaze drops to my feet. Even after sharing what happened between us, both her and Molly keep coming back to the “he only wants to be friends” thing. I had argued that if they meant friends with bedroom benefits, they’d be right, but they disagreed.
Pulling my phone from my ear, I stare at the display and watch as seconds add to the length of time of our call. I give up.
Moving the phone back to my ear, I murmur, “You’re probably right.”
“See, now there’s nothing to worry about. Just let it go and you can move on. David has a friend I could set you up with.”
Ugh, no way in hell am I going out with one of David’s loser friends.
“Thanks, babe.” I lie. “I don’t think I’m ready to go out with anyone but I’ll let you know once I am. I really gotta get back though so I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, girlie. Talk again soon.”
After we hang up, I stare at the display of my phone again. Instead of feeling better, I feel worse. Awesome girl talk.
Slipping my phone back into my apron, I’m still stewing on her words as I walk back into the diner. What is so unbelievable about Heath wanting me?
It’s always words from those closest to us that have the potential to inflict the most damage. Once I’m back in the kitchen, I wash my hands, a force of habit after working around food for this long.
Allen’s plating my order.
“Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing the plates.
One of them is a lot hotter than the other. I hold the cooler one higher up on my arm, the palm of my hand less sensitive to hot plates.
He’s there when I walk out. My eyes avoid him despite the fact that every one of my nerves is firing that he’s near. Even though the moment was brief, my eyes catalogued and evaluated every nuance of him.
He’s wearing the same suit from lunch. The suit that makes me want to undress him with my teeth. His hair’s damp, not in a styled way, in a “careless he was in a rush” way.
He’s sitting at the same table as before. Most of all, I don’t miss that he only has eyes for me.
Still outwardly ignoring him, I serve my table and check on another one. Only after I top off their drinks do I turn my attention to Heath.
“What can I get you?” I ask his shoulder.
There’s a better chance that I’ll be able to stay pissed at him if I don’t look at him. It should be criminal how attractive he is.
Remember he’s the dick who broke your heart.
Remember he’s the dick who broke your heart.
Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2) Page 3
