“If he didn’t give you a raise, I’m gonna—”

  “Relax. He did.”

  “So how much?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even ask.”

  “You’re crazy.” I wasn’t going to tell him, but I had enough money to be comfortable even without a raise, and I’d worn myself out over the past month, between working on the house, taking every shift at Bob’s that I could, and having Sunday dinner with my parents. More money every paycheck would be amazing, but I didn’t need it.

  Maybe I’d be able to buy the house after all.

  “Good job, Casey.” Scott’s voice caressed my name, reminding me that I still had a hardcore crush on the man, even though I hadn’t thought so. But I didn’t want to seem pathetic.

  “Big friggin’ deal.”

  “It is a big deal, Case,” David said. “If you’re no good, you won’t make it a week. You passed the test.” My eyes told him I didn’t believe him. “Right, Scott?”

  “Yeah, he’s right. Especially in your case.” He turned to flip his patty.

  It took me a second as I inhaled, but then I said, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  He turned to look at me again, his green eyes intense, drilling into my core. “It means you’re not a man.”

  “Great observation, Sherlock.”

  That grin. It was going to be the death of me. “Don’t get bent out of shape, Casey. It’s a compliment. You’re a cook, not a waitress. That says something about you.”

  I didn’t know how to take that. “Okay.”

  The waitress named Wendy, the woman I’d met when I’d first arrived at Bob’s, peeked her head in from the dining room. “Hi, Scott.”

  “Hey, Wendy.”

  What—David and I were chopped liver?

  “Are you getting ready to eat?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “I don’t know. You might be on the clock already.”

  “Yeah, I’m making my dinner. Did you want something?”

  “Just your company while I eat my salad.”

  What the hell was that fucking rolling in my gut? It was like I was possessed by some jealous monster. Wendy had effectively taken all the wind out of my sails, and it made me realize that I didn’t know Scott at all.

  David said, “I think we need to celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?”

  “Your raise. I’ll buy the drinks.”

  “I dunno, David…”

  “Don’t be a party pooper, Casey. I have a bottle of vodka at my place with your name on it.” I was shaking my head but I had half a grin on my face—and I felt relief when, out of my peripheral vision, I saw Wendy leave. “Oh, and do you like The Hangover?”

  “God, how much are you gonna make me drink?”

  “The movie, silly. You know, with Zack Galifianakis and Bradley Cooper?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You like the movie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So we’ll watch it and drink every time Zack makes us laugh.”

  “Oh, no way. I’d be drunk before they got to Vegas.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Scott had already assembled his burger and pulled a basket of fries out of the fryer. “Got that, mister? So hurry up. Casey and I have a date.”

  “Sounds like fun.” He threw some fries on his plate and, as he left the kitchen, he said, “Try not to miss me while you’re gone.”

  Oh. He’d just ensured that I would.

  But David said, “We won’t even think twice about you. Dream on.”

  My friend could only speak for himself, because I couldn’t make that promise.

  Chapter Five

  I wiped a rag along the countertop in my kitchen. It wasn’t really filthy, but David was going to be the first visitor to my new place (except, of course, for my parents). If we would be drinking, we’d spend a little time in there.

  David had admitted to me that he lived with his parents, so he asked if we could hang at my place. He said he lived in a mother-in-law apartment that his parents had built years ago when his grandma was still alive, and she’d lived on their property for years. Now, though, he lived there. He saved a lot of money doing it, and “I don’t care how much Scott makes fun of me for it.”

  Hmm.

  But I let him know I didn’t have a DVD player, not even one on my old computer, so he brought his own. “We will watch The Hangover, dammit. We will not be denied.”

  As promised, he also had a huge bottle of vodka.

  We sat on the living room floor and propped the laptop on my coffee table. By the end of the film, I was feeling a little lightheaded. David said, “God, that movie kills me!”

  “Yeah, me, too.” I stood up. “I think I’m gonna grab a glass of water. You want anything?”

  “Water? Are you giving up on me already?”

  “No. I just need something for my thirst.” I started walking toward the kitchen and David followed.

  “You think the vodka’s not cutting it?”

  I laughed and shook my head, although that was a mistake, reminding me I probably had had too much already. I’d talked a good game, but I might need to stick with water for the remainder of the evening.

  As soon as I was through the doorway, David walked in front of me. “Let me get it for you, ‘kay?”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure what he was up to, but I could sense silliness.

  Moving to the cabinets, he opened one and saw a few spices, an unopened bag of sugar, and a few cans of beans and soup. He kept opening doors until he found dishes. When he took out a plate, I started giggling. He must be drunker than I am. But then he grabbed a glass. “Do you want ice?”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  Nodding, he walked over to the sink and filled up the glass with water. Then he placed it on the plate and held the plate on the palm of his hand. “Okay. Who am I?” He turned and walked toward the small table in my kitchen. “Hey, gurl. Oh, em gee! Who did your hair?” He turned and looked at me with a cockeyed grin before turning back to the table, his voice shrilly falsetto. “It couldn’t have been any of the sluts around here. I wouldn’t go to them if my life depended on it.”

  “Are you imitating Wendy?”

  “What’s that you said? Oh, shit, honey,” he said, his tone saccharine sweet. “I’m so sorry.” He tiptoed over to me and handed me the water. “And don’t get all pissed at me when the kitchen screws up your order after taking an entire hour to cook your medium rare steak. They’re such fuck ups.” The way he said “such” with an air of melodrama and a woman’s voice if she were trying to speak from her chest told me I was right.

  “You are.”

  “What?” he said in his normal voice. “You don’t think that’s accurate?”

  “Well…I knew who you were pretending to be, but I don’t know that it was fair.”

  “Yeah, well wait’ll you’ve been at Bob’s another few months. She blames us for her screwups all the time. Two weeks ago she told a customer we’d dropped their steak on the floor and had to cook a new one but she just forgot to turn in her ticket. If she could blame us for forgetting their drinks, she would.”

  “I don’t know her well enough.” I drank some water and then opened the fridge. I had a few beers in there and offered one to David.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Well, I gotta slow down, my friend. I’m feeling it in my teeth.” I popped open the can before we headed back to the living room. David held his hand up as if he were still holding a drink tray, only this time he sashayed as though he were a woman trying to show off her bootie. I started laughing, encouraging him. Next, he started acting like a pop singer in a video, running his palms up and down his sides. Soon, I was laughing so hard my abdomen ached, and I fell on the couch, trying to catch my breath.

  David was giggling, too, and he grabbed the bottle of vodka off the coffee table before sitting in a chair across from me. I rested my head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. Then his voice broke through the silence. “So…what do you think of Scott?”

  Oh, shit. Why was he asking? After getting over my initial panic, I suspected I knew. David hadn’t come right out and said it, but he didn’t have to. He was gay. Still, I respected him and wanted him to come out to me when he was damn good and ready—and maybe this was how he was going to do it. I didn’t know if I had the heart to tell him Scott didn’t seem to swing that way at all.

  “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “He’s a nice enough guy.”

  “And?”

  Now he was getting annoying. I wasn’t going to say what was really on my mind. “And what? Why do you care? What does this possibly have to do with you and me?”

  “We’re friends, Casey. I just wondered if you like him.”

  “Like him? Again…why do you care?” I was hoping he’d just admit his proclivities and open that door already.

  “Let’s just say…Scott is also my friend. And I’m known around Bob’s as a matchmaker.”

  I nearly choked on a mouthful of beer, but I managed to swallow it. I couldn’t even think of what to say. “Don’t even.” And just because something deep inside me found that I was profoundly attracted to something about the guy, the last thing I wanted was to be set up. If I couldn’t get his attention myself, I didn’t want him.

  “Honestly, my love? Scott’s a bit of a commodity around there, and I’m tired of Wendy trying to sink her talons into him again. Nasty bitch.”

  I wasn’t a Wendy fan myself, but I didn’t know that I was ready to trash her, so I guzzled another swallow of beer.

  “You like Scott, don’t you?”

  “Whether I do or don’t doesn’t matter. I don’t need anyone setting me up.”

  “Oh!” David sat up, slamming the bottle on the coffee table. “But you do. You do like him!”

  “I didn’t say that—and don’t you dare repeat that shit.”

  “Wow. Defensive much? I’m just…I’m going to be moving in with him next month. He needs a new roommate and I don’t want Wendy volunteering for the job.”

  “You think she would?”

  “Hell, yes. She’s desperate enough to. And she’d offer to pay extra because of her daughter.”

  “Daughter?”

  “Yeah. She has a kid. Another reason why I’m trying to keep Scott safe.”

  “Here’s the thing, Dave. Scott’s a big boy. He should be able to take care of himself.”

  “Should. But I know him a little better than you. The guy has no problems finding women but he gets used a lot. And he always blames it on himself.”

  Again, more info than I wanted. “I suppose he told you all this?”

  “No. I’ve been friends with Scott for a long time. You can’t help but know people well if you’ve been around them most of your life.”

  “Hmm. And what would he say about you, David?”

  “Let’s see.” He straightened his back before furrowing his brows like Scott did so often. Then he crossed his arms and said, “That little shit, David? He seems innocent, but he’s a misguided little prick who needs to get a life.”

  I started laughing then. Once again, David’s impression, while exaggerated, was remarkable. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I was hit with a wave of nausea but fought against it. Why the hell had I grabbed the beer?

  “So…would you go out with him, Casey?”

  That statement confirmed I’d initially read him wrong. David maybe was gay, but he wasn’t interested in Scott in that way. He really was trying to play matchmaker. And, honestly, at the time, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Scott. He’d warmed up a bit over the past month but that was it. Whether he was hot or not was immaterial.

  My stomach flipflopped. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Standing up quickly, I ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before all the contents of my stomach forced its way violently up and out.

  Jesus. I was too old to be doing this high school shit.

  When I was done, I turned on the faucet and cupped cool water into my mouth, rinsing it out, and then I splashed some on my face.

  Unfortunately, I was still tipsy.

  When I got back to the living room, David asked, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I think so. But I need a cigarette.” I grabbed one and my lighter and headed out onto the front porch. Usually, at night, I went to the backyard, but I felt safe with David nearby, especially since he followed me outside.

  I sucked down a deep drag, letting the flavor of the cigarette drown out the nasty taste in my mouth.

  “Those are bad for you, you know.”

  “Yeah. I don’t care.”

  We were quiet for a few minutes. The whole time we sat out there on the concrete porch steps, not a single vehicle drove by, and it was only a little after ten. I could get used to living in a small town again. That peacefulness was kind of nice. David broke the silence. “Maybe we’d better call it a night.”

  “Yeah, probably.” When David pulled his keys out of his jeans pocket, I freaked out. “Wait a second. You’re in no condition to drive, mister. You drank a lot more than I did.”

  “I’m a lot bigger than you are. I can handle it better.”

  “You’re still drunker than shit.” I sucked on my cigarette again.

  “Yeah…”

  “Yeah, and what kind of friend would I be if I let you drive?” He started to answer but I wouldn’t let him finish. “You can sleep on my couch. It’s pretty comfortable.”

  He took a deep breath. “Sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Of course not.” I crushed the cigarette out inside the tin can I used to collect butts. “Let’s get you hooked up.” We went back inside and I paused at my bedroom door before grabbing an extra pillow off the bed and taking a sheet off the top shelf in the closet. “Do you want a blanket, too?”

  “Nah.” By the time I came back to the living room, David was almost done making his bed on the couch. “Nice way to avoid the question, by the way.”

  It only took me a second to remember. He was certainly a persistent little booger. “David. Can you take a hint? I’m not going to answer your question, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

  “Touchy much?”

  “Your bed’s made. Go to sleep, you stinker.”

  “You’re not even going to—”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he put you up to this.” David had already pulled his sneakers off and was crawling onto the couch. He made his eyes as innocent-looking as possible and batted his eyelashes, smiling widely. “Do you need anything?”

  “No. I’ll get a hug from you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, good night,” I said, turning off the light. And then at the last second, I added, “I think he’s good looking—but that’s the only thing I’ll say on the matter.”

  I closed my bedroom door, but not before I heard David gasp and say, “Oh, my God!”

  Oh, why had I fed the monster?

  Chapter Six

  The next weekend was Mother’s Day, and we had all hands on deck at Bob’s. I’d thought Sundays were busy before, but everyone has a mother, and apparently all the families in Winchester decided she needed a steak.

  But at least I had the night off. Kara and her family had visited my parents during the day, but I’d asked dad if he thought mom would like Bob’s. I could bring them for dinner and use my employee discount.

  Our waitress was Carla, a girl I thought was sweet, but I hadn’t gotten to know her very well because the cooks’ unspoken code was to keep our distance. This provided an opportunity for me to talk with her, though.

  Mom ordered chicken; dad ordered a steak (that he insisted he would buy himself); and I ordered the salad bar. After cooking that shit all day long, the last thing I wanted to do was eat it.

  “Thank you so much, honey. This was really sweet.”

  “I love you, mom.”

  “Why don’t you help me eat my mashed potatoes?” I shook my head, smiling. “They’d help put a little meat on your bones.”

  “She looks fine, dear.” I wanted to say thank you out loud to my dad but hoped he could at least pick up on my vibes.

  I knew she couldn’t help herself, so I managed to distract my mom for a while by asking my dad about his garden. Spring was the season he loved the most and I knew he’d been planting all kinds of greenery, from veggies to flowers, and he loved talking about it.

  It wasn’t destined to last, though. At the first big break in the conversation, my mom had to change the subject.

  “Casey, Barry called you again. You really need to call him back.”

  “Mom, I—” I shut my mouth when I noticed someone heading toward our table.

  Shit. Not just someone. It was Scott.

  “Hi, Casey. Mr. and Mrs. Williams?” My dad nodded. “We just wanted to wish you a happy Mother’s Day.” He set a piece of decadent-looking chocolate cake on the table. “Your dinner is on the house.” Wow. I didn’t know how he’d managed to pull that one off, but I was still a newbie, as Scott liked to call me, and maybe there was more to Bob’s than I knew.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “I wanted you to know Casey’s a great asset to our restaurant and I’m sure your food would have tasted even better if she’d been working.”

  I started laughing. “I doubt that.”

  Dad said, “You would have made it with love.”

  “Exactly. Anyway…enjoy.” I smiled at Scott and he winked at me before heading back to the kitchen.

  What was that?

  I was still in a bit of a daze when mom picked up right where she’d left off. “Barry calls us two to three times a week, Casey. Just call him.”

  Letting out a sigh, I set down my fork. I was officially done. “Look, mom…the last time I saw Barry was at our permanent orders hearing. He could have said anything he needed to then. I got a new phone number because I don’t want to talk to him.”

  “But, Casey, you share a history—”

  “Look…if he really has something to say to me, ask him what he needs to talk about next time he calls. If it seems legit, I’ll call him back.” Mom tilted her head. “I promise.” But I doubted Barry would say anything to her, because he was probably just trying to be a huge pain in my ass. But if I could get my mom to shut up about it, I really would call him if he gave her a legitimate reason.

 

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