Chapter 13 #5
like a gavel, she focused elsewhere. She was tired, too. Tired and fed up with them all.
So, she was all the more surprised when, as she went to the lower level and unlocked the door to the storage room—they needed
more IPAs, Joshua Mike was on a roll—Augie felt a hand on her back. She jumped.
“Sorry,” Chat said, stepping away.
“What are you doing down here?” Shock vibrated through her.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Before he could respond, they heard a group yelling and laughing down the hall, likely headed to the men’s locker room directly
to their left. They both went still.
Augie filled her lungs and sighed in annoyance. “Fine, come on.”
The contrast of the storage room to the Club was drastic: It was a huge, cement room, all exposed pipes and locked chain-link gates and endless boxes of booze.
It was chilly, too, and as such, they all called the room “the cave.” Augie shivered as she stepped inside, unlocked a gate, and slid it to the side—the sound of grating metal filling the room.
She looked down at the boxes and searched for the IPAs, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
“Now, this is where they should throw parties.” Chat stared up at the ceiling, his fingers clasping the chain-link metal.
“A warehouse party? Isn’t that a thing?” He paused when Augie didn’t respond. “Okay, look. I really don’t mean to bother you.
I know you’re working.”
“What do you want, then?” She was exhausted.
Chat looked boyish and disappointed as he adjusted his hat.
“I wanted to say I was sorry for Joshua Mike, for earlier. He is a complete fucking jerk.”
Augie didn’t move. “You don’t have to be sorry for Joshua Mike. It’s not on you.”
“I know. But I was with them, and they were being assholes, and—”
“It’s nothing new.” She crouched over a box, scanning the labels, not looking at him.
“You know,” Chat said after a second of silence, “I don’t love hanging out with them, if that’s what you think.” His tone
was impatient now, similar to her own. “I didn’t even want to play today. I’d rather have stayed home with the boys.”
He seemed upset, and it made Augie more irritated.
“Yeah, well it doesn’t exactly suck to get paid to play golf all day. Or to go on vacation to a cabin-mansion, for that matter.
It seems like you’re all buddies.” She wished she could ask him everything point-blank: What was his relationship with Mrs.
Crawley like? Did he know they owed the Club money? How well did he know the Crawleys in general? She didn’t know how to bring
it up without seeming insane.
They searched each other, locked in surprise and challenge.
“Okay, but it’s not exactly perfect, either. I wouldn’t say we’re buddies. I’m just stuck with them all the time. I don’t know anyone else here besides you. And I know you don’t exactly love seeing
me. I’m not asking you to feel bad for me, I’m only saying—don’t think I’m basking in it. At least you work with cool people.
And you don’t have to sleep at your job.”
“You’re right,” she snapped. “I do not sleep at the Club, despite what some may think. And I do work with cool people. But
you know what else I have to do? Carry up boxes of IPAs for the Joshua Mikes of the world. I wasn’t even supposed to be here
this summer.” Augie’s voice cracked, and she was glad to notice the box of IPAs to her side. She bent down to pick it up as
Chat pulled off his hat, sticking it in his back pocket.
“This is coming out all wrong. Augie.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know we joke about it, but I really don’t want to
bother you. I really like being around you, talking to you . . . I haven’t met anyone I liked this much in a long time . . .
but if you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”
Augie strained to lift the box, glad for the physical distraction, though her whole body felt weak. She hadn’t met anyone
she liked this much in a long time, either. She wished they’d met at a different time and place. She did like hearing that
his life at the Crawleys’ wasn’t perfect, though. She hoped he didn’t like Mrs. Crawley as much as she thought.
“You don’t have to stop talking to me.”
The connection between them pulled tighter.
“And you do have friends.” She paused. “What about Max and Cooper?”
Chat smiled, relief radiating off him. “Well, yes. Cooper is my ride or die.”
“See.” Augie’s muscles flexed as she adjusted the box. “I’m sure it’ll work out. You don’t need to be sorry. About Joshua
Mike or anything.”
Chat pivoted as he watched her go. He pointed to the box. “Do you need—”
“I don’t need help.”
“Okay.”
Augie reached for the door and felt her body nearing his, only the box between them.
“So, I might be pushing it here, but does this mean I can see you again? Maybe on purpose next time?” Chat put his hands in
his pockets, twisting his forearms forward.
Augie studied his hopeful expression.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to hang out with people at the Club? Didn’t you say that at the swim meet? When Mrs. Crawley”—she
hated saying her name, the way it soured the space between them—“came to the pool? You basically ran away.”
“Oh no, it’s cool. She just worries about the boys, and other mothers, at the Club. Especially around the pool . . . Cooper
wanders, and he’s not a good swimmer. I just didn’t want her to worry. I probably overreacted.” Chat pointed out his thumbs
from where his hands were still in his pockets. “But when the boys are at activities or in bed, I’m off duty. A free man.”
He lifted and widened his arms as if taking in the world.
Augie didn’t buy it. There was no way Mrs. Crawley would be okay with them spending time together, “off duty” or not. She so clearly despised Augie, wanted a tight grip on Chat. Still, Augie was flattered by his words. In a weird way, she also felt like she was winning.
“Look, Chat,” she sighed, “this summer is crazy, okay? I lost my real job, and I’m looking for another, so I need to focus.
I don’t know if I can make plans or whatever.” In her mind, she added, As much as I want to.
The box was straining her arms now, and as her grip suddenly gave out, Chat reached forward and caught the bottom of it, crossing
their forearms. Augie felt the hot intersection of their skin. Her gaze flicked from their arms up to his mouth. His face
was just a foot away now. For a second, she thought he might lean across and kiss her—but then they heard banging at the door.
“Augie?” TC called. “Any luck with those IPAs? You-know-who is pitching a fit.”
“Be right there,” she yelled back. “One sec.”
Chat stood still as TC said thanks.
A second later, the silence felt louder than ever. Chat’s presence felt louder than ever.
“You can’t be down here,” Augie whispered, though to her surprise, she was almost laughing now. What did it matter, really?
Who the hell really cared?
“This is kind of the holy grail.”
Augie twisted her mouth to hide her smile.
“Okay, I’ll let you go. Be careful with that precious cargo.”
Augie readjusted the weight of the box in her arms and moved toward the door.
“Augie, one last question. How about instead I just get your number?”
Augie leaned into the door’s horizontal handle until it clicked.
“Well, I am trying to stay off my phone. But”—she paused, knowing this was a bad idea, yet continuing all the same—“if you really want to get in touch, my last name is Elling. You can find me on LinkedIn. That’s the only social media I’m using these days.”
Chat beamed. “That makes sense. I couldn’t find your profiles. Though, again, I was only lightly stalking. I appreciate the invitation to connect.”
Augie thought of Leah’s comment then, how he hadn’t accepted her friend request. It seemed surprising given he had tried to
find Augie online, although Leah had said he didn’t post often. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would be social media
savvy; he was too down to earth.
“All right, I gotta go. We have to go.” Augie pushed the door open and glanced down the hall to make sure they were in the clear. “You leave first.
I don’t want you to get locked in here or something . . . You know they’d all be missing you.”
“And I’d be missing you.” Chat stepped out the door, cocked his head, and spun back toward her. “All right, was that too far? Too cheesy? A little
cringe?” He smiled wider as he walked backward down the hall, holding eye contact as he pulled his hat from his pocket and
put it on.
Finally, despite herself, Augie laughed.