Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Marti
Hiding in the bathroom until a reliable source––obviously not my best friend––informed me that Sutton had left, didn't make me a chicken.
Nearly quitting my job so I never had to look that gorgeous man in the eyes again also didn't make me a chicken.
It all seemed pretty rational to me. Fleeing town on the next bus sounded completely reasonable as well.
Livy and Rendi discussed it for me... while I stood right there, and concurred that embarrassment eases with time and I should just suck it up. And also, that there was nothing more to fear, since I couldn’t possibly embarrass myself any worse than I already had.
The gleam in Rendi’s eyes made it feel more like a challenge than a comfort, really, since we both knew that I absolutely could embarrass myself more.
Livy had obviously given him and his companion free meals, and I begged her to take it out of my check, but she’d refused, stating that the entertainment had been completely worth it.
I bet she wouldn’t think that when the man and his friends stopped coming because she wouldn’t let her incompetent waitress quit.
I eased into my normal parking spot in front of my apartment, sighed, and allowed myself a moment to rest my forehead against the steering wheel. It was still a little sore, along with my nose, but the lump was gone and my nose didn’t look misshapen.
I really didn’t know why I was the way I was around him.
He had been coming into the diner at least three times a week for four of the six months that I had worked there.
One would think seeing him that many times would make me less prone to idiocy in his presence, but it only seemed to be getting worse.
Maybe it was because every time I glanced his way his eyes were on me.
Like he knew something was going to happen, so he was just constantly waiting for what ridiculous mess I might get myself into next.
How could someone be so utterly disruptive to my equilibrium with just a look?
It was time to get my head on straight. First, it wasn’t like the man would ever be interested in me.
If he was single and looking, there was about a dozen single women in the right age range in this town that even I would pick over myself.
At this point, I’d pick the mean sixty-year-old greenhouse lady that yelled at everyone all the time. At least she was useful.
I was probably too young for the guy anyway.
His body was still amazing, and the lines on his face were light, probably there more from excessive use rather than age, but the way he carried himself and the absolute surety he seemed to have with every move he made, definitely pointed to someone whose wisdom and experience made him completely at ease in every situation.
So, like, the total opposite of me.
Nodding to myself––difficult since my head was still firmly resting against the steering wheel––I resolved to stop acting like an idiot. What I needed was a little grounding to get my head out of the clouds, and nothing was more grounding than remembering my place in the world.
Slightly out of shape, average looking college dropout with an iffy past, and absolutely no plans for the future.
I felt eyes on me as I made my way up the sidewalk to my duplex apartment.
I wasn’t too worried about the sensation.
I always felt eyes on me. It was a small town, and everyone liked to know everyone else’s business.
I wasn’t even mad about it. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t avidly eavesdrop on customers when they had a juicy bit of gossip.
I also liked to mind other people’s business.
I rented the place from Livy.
The apartment, along with several others and the diner, was apparently part of the inheritance that had brought her and Rendi to Beatrice in the first place.
Livy tried to fight me on whether or not I should pay rent, but I absolutely could not allow myself to start relying on anyone like that.
It made me too vulnerable, and I knew from experience that you couldn’t allow yourself to be too vulnerable.
Livy and Rendi had never done anything in their lives to make me think that they were in any way untrustworthy, but what if something happened and they couldn’t afford to let a freeloader live in one of their apartments?
If I started counting on that money that was supposed to go toward rent, and then I suddenly had to start paying rent, that could throw off the whole balance of everything.
Having your feet knocked out from under you was one of the worst feelings in the world, and I never wanted to experience it again.
Movement out of the corner of my eye had me turning with a smile on my face to greet my neighbor––a beautiful woman in her fifties who’d lost her husband five years before.
Nancy had been one of the many people in this town who had really made me feel almost like I belonged here, instead of a refugee who had fled her last town like her rear was on fire.
She always had funny stories to tell me about the people who came into the flower shop she owned in the city over, and I told her all about how I made an idiot of myself every time Sutton came in to the diner.
But nobody was there when I turned to look. Right. It was Monday. She always got home a little later on Monday evenings. So, what had I seen?
There was a four-foot windmill in the yard a few houses over that barely moved in the light breeze, but nothing else at all seemed to be in motion. Could it have been the windmill? It looked so human-like out of the corner of my eye.
Maybe it was time to go get my eyes checked. It had been well over six years. My dad would have never taken me to the optometrist. He’d adamantly insisted that taking kids to doctors was a woman’s job, and I’d have to wait for all that until I was old enough to take myself.
A loud truck started somewhere, breaking me out of the trance that the windmill seemed to have put me in, and I yawned big and stupid. I hadn’t been getting near enough sleep this week. The neighborhood dogs had been pretty loud these last few nights, and I’d been a light sleeper lately.
I probably needed to clean house, but I didn’t even make it past the couch before I fell face first onto the cushions, only cringing slightly at how that felt on my actual face. I was asleep in seconds.