"It was fun. Thank you."
I stepped off the dance floor and waved to Dalton and Zeke. Then I pushed through several people to get to the exit. I escaped through the door and walked into the warm summer night air, taking a big breath.
He is going to appear in three, two--
"Falyn!" Taylor said from behind me.
I suppressed a smile. "You said you wouldn't even walk me home, remember?"
Disappointment darkened Taylor's eyes, but he kept his expression smooth. "Whatever you say, Ivy League."
It was a risk. If his ego weren't as durable as I thought, he'd never speak to me again. But of all the arrogant bastards I'd ever come across, Taylor Maddox surpassed every one.
Still, I had to toss him a bone. I leaned up on the balls of my feet and kissed him on the cheek, letting my lips linger on his skin for just a second longer. Taylor came closer, drawn to my mouth, his face turning less than a centimeter toward me. I backed away, but when our eyes met, he looked completely different. I couldn't pinpoint it, but something had changed.
"Good night."
"Night," he said softly.
I began my return home, pausing at the stoplight to press the button for the crosswalk. Tejon Street had moderate traffic for a weekend night, not that I had much to compare it to. Usually, by this time, I would be lying on my couch, eating cheese and crackers while reading one of the trash mags Kirby loved to bring to work to read on breaks.
"Hey!" Dalton said, running up to me.
I raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"He promised he wouldn't walk you home. But he didn't promise he wouldn't make me walk you home."
I shook my head, trying to subdue the victory welling up inside of me. "I can handle walking across the street."
"Just pretend I'm walking in the same direction then."
I sighed. "Are all hotshots this difficult?"
"Are all Ivy League grads this difficult?"
"I'm an Ivy League dropout."
Dalton smiled. "You're all right, Falyn."
I smiled back.
The light changed, and Dalton and I silently crossed the street, passing two businesses before we reached the front door of the Bucksaw. I pulled the key ring from my pocket and stabbed the dead bolt with one of the two keys hanging from the ring.
"You live here or something?"
"Upstairs."
"That's convenient," Dalton said.
"And cheap."
"I can relate. Night, Falyn."
"Take care, Dalton. It was nice meeting you."
He nodded, returning to Cowboys. The dance club was across the street and another two doors down, but I could see Taylor and Zeke standing together on the sidewalk, smoking, chatting, and intermittently checking my progress.
I pulled the door open before closing and locking it behind me. The blinds were drawn, and the lights were off in the dining area. I fumbled around until I found the stairs leading to my loft.
The second key fit in my door. I turned the lock until I heard a click, and then I twisted the knob to my empty apartment. Most Friday nights, I could hear the throbbing bass from Cowboys as I lay in bed, and this night was no exception. But this time, I looked through the letters in my shoebox, my eyes watering at the return address on all the envelopes, with the possibility of being in Eakins soon becoming a reality.
The feeling was so surreal--being hopeful for the first time since I'd lost hope.
"Order up!" Chuck yelled from the window in an authoritative deep tone that he only used for that purpose.
It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, the normal river of voices louder and more animated. Families occupied almost every table with babies crying, a toddler running in circles around his table, and teenagers hovering over a single cell phone and then bursting into laughter.
Hannah, the high schooler who would help on the weekends, checked on each table, stopping briefly before moving on like a hummingbird in a field of flowers.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Hannah cried, nearly mowing over the two-year-old who had been a moving obstacle since his parents were seated.
"Jack! Get your heinie over here now!" his mother growled.
Jack ran toward his mother with a smile on his face, knowing that he hadn't yet completely worn out her patience.
"Jeebus," Hannah said, blowing away a few long golden strands that had fallen into her face. "It's not even a holiday weekend."
"Thanks for coming in," I said, pouring sun tea into four tall cups. "I know you had volleyball practice early."
"I'll be a senior this year. I can't believe it." She sighed. "What are you going to do without me next summer?"
"You're not coming back to work?"
She shrugged. "Mom said she wants to travel together all summer before I leave for college."
"That sounds fun," I said with a polite smile.
"You're lying," Hannah said.
"You're right. Traveling with Blaire for an entire summer sounds like a form of punishment."
Hannah pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry you don't get along with your parents. You're so nice."
Hannah didn't have the impossible-to-satisfy, overbearing evil queen that was Dr. Blaire Fairchild.
"Blaire would lose her shit if a pant leg was peeking out of the dirty laundry hamper, and being forced to wait in any line would turn her into an even worse version of herself. Amusement parks were out of the question. I'm glad you're doing that though. With your mother, I'm sure it will be fun."
Hannah's grin disappeared. "Crap, I need to get the Ashtons cashed out. John Delaney just came in with his munchkins."
"All five of them?" I asked, turning to see the answer.
John was loaded down with two baby carriers holding his twin sons. His wife, Marie, readjusted their three-year-old daughter on her hip and then leaned down to say something to her two school-aged daughters.
John used to be the girls' lacrosse coach, but he was now a salesman at a Ford dealership. He was distracted by his children, and I tried my best not to look too long in their direction.
"Oh, wow. Marie's a champ," I said.
"Or nuts," Hannah said. "Didn't they almost get a divorce a few years ago, right before he quit coaching?"
"I don't know," I said. "I don't pay attention to the gossip."
With a bright smile, Hannah rushed the black leather bill presenter to table eight. I filled a small bowl with lemons and then took the drink tray to table twelve.
"Are you all set to order?" I asked, readying my pen and pad.
"How's your dad doing, Falyn?"
I glanced at Brent Collins, who had clearly asked the question with an agenda in mind. No longer the Snickers-eating pudgy classmate I'd graduated with, Brent was now the CrossFit instructor down the street.
"He's been busy," I said. "You should try the roast turkey. It is exceptionally amazing today."
"I don't eat meat. I'll have the kale salad. What happened to you? Weren't you in med school or something?"
"Not really."
"You didn't go to Dartmouth?" he asked.
"I did. So, you're a vegetarian? So, no egg on the salad? Dressing? Phaedra makes a homemade green goddess with vegan mayo that is pretty badass."
"Perfect. Dusty, didn't you hear that Falyn went to Dartmouth?"
Dusty nodded, sipping his tea. Both men were with their girlfriends. All of them had either graduated with me or the year after.
"Nice ring," I said to Hilary.
She patted Dusty on the arm. "He did good, didn't he?"
Dusty smiled. "I sure did, baby." He looked at me. "She doesn't know that she's way out of my league, so I had to put a ring on it, right?"
I grinned. "Right."
Two bacon cheeseburgers and two kale salads later, I was dropping off a new table's order sheet at the window and picking up an appetizer to table one for Hannah.
"Thank you!" Hannah called as I served her table.
I liked Hannah, but I barely knew her.
She was still in high school, so she was worlds away from where I was in life. She had every opportunity still in front of her. I was running away from anything that remotely resembled a future--at least a set one.
"Just seated table three for you," Kirby said as she grabbed more menus from behind the bar.
I looked up, and I had to harness the smug smile trying to erupt across my face. "Thank God," I whispered.
"So, you had a good time with him then?" Phaedra asked, dropping off clean menus.
"He's from Eakins, Illinois."
Phaedra blinked. "What did you say?"
"Taylor. He's from Eakins."
Phaedra paled. "Did you tell him?"
My nose wrinkled. "Of course not."
"Tell him what?" Kirby asked.
"It's personal," Phaedra snapped. "She'll tell you if she wants to, but don't bug her about it."
"All right," Kirby said, her eyes bulging for half a second, as she raised her hands, palms out.
"It's nothing," I said.
Kirby looked at table three and then back at me. "They specifically asked for you."
"Good," I said, letting them get settled before heading over.
"Falyn!" Brent called.
I stopped at their table. "Sorry. I'll be right back to top off your drinks."
"What happened with Dartmouth?" he asked. "Your mom told mine you were kicked out. Is that true?"
"Stop it, Brent." Hilary frowned.
My words were stuck in my throat. It had been a long time since someone asked about my past. "No. I left."
"Why?" Brent asked.
I swallowed.
"Leave her alone," John said, turning around in his chair. His cheeks instantly flushed.
Brent made a face. "Hey, Coach Delaney. Funny seeing you here."
John glanced at me and then returned his attention to his wife, who was unaware, still fussing over the babies.
Phaedra cupped my shoulders, smiling at Brent. "I'll just get your check, if you're in a hurry to leave."
"No, thank you," Brent said, stumbling over his words. "We'll just, um ... I'm sorry. I was rude. If it's okay, we'd like to stay."
Brent's girlfriend and Hilary were clearly angry with his behavior.
"Good idea," Phaedra said before walking away.
I bit my lip, feeling a bit nauseous, and I retreated to the drink station.
Dalton, Zeke, and Taylor were reading over their menus, once again covered in soot and sweat, each hooking his hard hat over his knee.
"So, my mom wants to start the trip at Yellowstone," Hannah said, putting miniature lids on tiny cups for Delaney children. "We've been there at least a dozen times, but she wants to start there, so that's that. I want to go down the whole West Coast and see what LA is like."
"Have you ever been?" I asked, distracted by the dirty men near the window. I would have to win them all over, not just Taylor.
Hannah shook her head, waiting for me to answer my own question.
"Yes," I said, remembering my own trip to LA, "with Blaire."
"See? You can travel with her."
"It was for a medical conference. I spent all day in the hotel room. I think she only brought me to help her with her bags while she shopped."
"Oh. That sounds kind of ... awful. But at least, if you got sick, she could take care of you. She's a doctor, right?"
"A cardiothoracic surgeon. She's rated as one of the top five in the country."
"Wow. That's pretty amazing!"
"She is an amazing surgeon."
"Well, that's something."
I grimaced. Blaire did not like dust or people who were overly chatty or overly happy, and she hated to be looked in the eye, as if anyone without a PhD was her equal. That was why she was a surgeon. If she were the best--and she was--her bedside manner wouldn't matter as long as she fixed what was broken.
The one thing she couldn't fix was the one person she'd broken.
"Falyn? Table five is asking for their check," Kirby said.
"Oh!" I tapped on the touch screen, and a receipt began to print. I ripped it off and stuck it in the black leather bill presenter before bringing it to a family of four.
"Thank you so much," I said, smiling. "Have a great day."
I checked on my other tables, filled a few glasses, and then approached table three.
"Hi, boys. Are you having the same today or something different?"
They all dipped their heads in unison.
"Same," Dalton said. "You've ruined me for the real stuff."
"Be right back." I spun around, trying to treat them like anyone else who had just come in off the street.
I returned to the bar, put together their Cherry Cokes, and carried the tray to table three with a polite smile.
"Thank you," Dalton said.
Zeke hummed with satisfaction after taking a gulp from his Cherry Coke.
"Did Trex quit?" I asked, making sure not to make too much eye contact with Taylor.
Dalton, Zeke, and Taylor all traded looks.
Then Taylor addressed me, "Trex isn't on our crew. We met him at our hotel."
"Oh," I said. "Are you ready to order? Or do you need more time?"
Zeke squinted at the menu. "You serve breakfast all day?"
"All day."
"What is a crepe?" Zeke asked.
"It's a very thin pancake. Phaedra serves hers filled with a soft hazelnut chocolate. Then she folds it, dusts it with powdered sugar, and then drizzles it with chocolate."
"Yeah, I'll have that," Zeke said.
"Chicken wrap," Dalton said. He handed me his menu, reminding Zeke to hand over his.
After some hesitation, I asked Taylor, "And for you?"
He lowered his menu and looked straight into my eyes. "I want to hang out again."
"Pardon?" For a moment I mused that a second chance might be on the menu.
Taylor sat back and sighed. "I know what I said, but that was when I thought you were just playing hard to get. I didn't actually know you were impossible."
"I'm not ... impossible. I'm a local. And you're ... not."
Zeke smiled. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."
Dalton backhanded Taylor's arm, and Taylor shot him a death glare.
Taylor let his menu fall to the table. "I didn't mean it when I swore that I'd never ask you out again."
I raised an eyebrow. "You didn't mean to promise me something?"
He thought about that for a moment. "Right. I take it back."
I made a face. "You can't take back a promise. You think I'm going to agree to a second date with a vagrant who takes back promises?"
"You just said we went on a date," Taylor said, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across his face. His teeth seemed even whiter against the dirt on his face.
"The cafe is really busy today," I said.
"I know," Taylor said. "Just think about it."
I looked up at the ceiling and then back at him, pointing at him with my pen. "No. Do you want the wrap, too?"
His grin vanished, and he crossed his arms, deflated. "Surprise me."
"You got it." I swiped Taylor's menu and took the order back to Chuck.
"Did he ask you out again?" he asked.
"Yep. I said no."
"Brutal," he said, shaking his head at me.
"He just wants to hang out," I said. "He's not heartbroken or anything."
"If you don't like him, why do you look like you're dying to giggle like a schoolgirl?" Chuck wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm.
"He's from Eakins," I said simply.
"Eakins? Like Eakins, Illinois, Eakins?"
"Yes." I bit my lip.
"Does he know?"
"No, he doesn't know. Phaedra asked the same thing. Why would I suddenly start telling everyone?"
Chuck shrugged. "Just asking. You know, Falyn ... I've offered before--"
"No, Chuck. You're not paying my way to Eakins. You already do too much."
&nbs
p; "How much money do you need? Can't be much more now?"
"Nope. I'm almost there. Every time I've gotten close, something's come up."
"Like when you helped Pete buy tires?"
"Yep."
"And when you paid that ticket for Kirby?"
"Yep."
"And when you got sick a couple of years ago?"
"That, too."
"Are you still paying on that hospital bill?"
"No, I paid it off a few months ago. Thank you."
"You should let us help, Falyn. You've helped people, and this is important."
"Yes, it is. That's why I have to do it on my own."
I looked at table three. Taylor glanced over at me, and we locked eyes for a moment.
"Or at least, mostly on my own."
Chuck busied himself again with the soup. "That is going to be one pissed off young man when he figures out what you're doing."
My chest sank in. "I already feel bad enough."
"Good. At least you still have a conscience."
I looked down at my feet, feeling worse by the second. The high I'd felt moments before was completely replaced with guilt. "Did Phaedra go to the back?" I asked.
He nodded. "She's making cheesecakes."
"Oh," I said, knowing it would be a while before I saw her.
The Delaneys waved to Kirby as they gathered their children to leave. Marie carried the twins' carriers, so John could handle their toddler. The girl was being carried over John's shoulder, her little feet kicking wildly as she screamed.
"Whew," Hannah said. "I'm adopting a ten-year-old."
I watched as the Delaneys walked out to their car, parked in one of the angled spaces in front of the Bucksaw. The father fought to get his daughter into her car seat, alternately pleading with her and then scolding her.
"Yeah," I said, distracted.
John secured the girl and then patted his own jeans, saying something to his wife before returning to the bar.
He stopped just in front of me, leaning in. "I'm so sorry," he said. "She asked why we never come in here anymore. I'll try not to come back."
I shook my head. "It's fine. I understand."
"I'm truly sorry, Falyn. For everything," he said again, pulling his wallet from his pocket before jogging outside.
All the air felt like it had left the room with John, and I stood there, unable to move or breathe.
Kirby wandered behind the bar, saying hello to the regulars before leaning over the counter on her elbows. "I didn't think that rush would ever let up." She picked at the corner of a menu and then sighed. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Are you going to tell me what you haven't told me?"
"Not today," I said, snapping back to the present.
Kirby pouted. "So, do you like him? Because ... you're being you but different. You always act weird when a guy tries to pursue you, but you're not running this one off."
Beautiful Sacrifice Page 6
