60. Summer
Summer
“Summer! You gonna pick that up or what?” the boss barks from behind the counter.
Heads turn toward me.
“Jace, I—”
“Faster than that!”
I shut my mouth. Jace doesn’t take his eyes off me.
My fingers close around a shard of glass. A thin red line forms at the crease of my thumb, but I don’t feel a thing. Jace gathers the pieces with the brush and sweeps them into the dustpan. His movements are precise.
“Can we talk after your shift?” he says gently. “I’ll wait.”
He slides the last shard into the dustpan and pushes up off his right leg to stand. He tilts his chin toward a table in the back.
“I’m gonna grab something to eat.”
My throat tight, I nod.
“I’m done around ten-thirty, once I close out.”
He nods and heads for table 8.
I stay kneeling and watch him until he settles in. He sets his backpack on the booth seat. A little cherry-red wooden board sticks out—the one he’d given me at Star Park. The one I’d thrown away.
“I’ve got 8,” Mavis says, crossing the floor and setting a menu in front of Jace.
No wink, no questions.
He gives her a tired smile.
“I’ll have a burger and a black coffee. Thanks.”
The shift picks back up.
I serve, I clear, I bring the check to the couple at table 6, I drop an order at the pass, I fill three coffee cups, I take back a plate of pancakes sent to the wrong table. My hands work. My head’s at table 8.
Every time I pass Jace, I feel his eyes on me. Not the look of a guy checking me out—soft, almost hesitant.
Mavis sets the coffee down in front of him, then the burger. He eats slowly. He watches the room, then his eyes come back to me.
He’s telling the truth.
Jace wouldn’t lie. Not about something like this.
“You were never a bet. Never.”
I drop two plates at table 3, I ring in another order, I pour a coffee at the counter.
If he’s telling the truth, that means for six years…
Stop, Summer.
When I catch his eye, he smiles at me. He looks worn out, and not quite sure I’m really standing here in front of him.
Even in jeans and sneakers, he looks out of place here—the copper tan of his face, the ends of his hair bleached by the ocean, his white T-shirt too loose for New York. The woman with her book hasn’t turned a page since he sat down; the one at table 6 has looked up from her phone.
At one point, I set a coffee in front of the man in the suit. He’d asked for a decaf—or not. I apologize, I swap it out, he grumbles. Mavis raises an eyebrow at me.
Focus, Summer.
I pass by table 8 one more time. Jace presses on his left thigh for a second—a small, subtle touch, right above the knee, where the scar is. He lets go, picks his cup back up. I look away before he can tell I’ve seen it.
10:10 p.m.
The couple at table 6 is gone. So is the man in the suit. Two customers are left at the counter with their coffee, and the woman with her book, who won’t look up before closing.
“Last call!” the boss shouts.
A formality—nobody orders at this hour. Mavis wipes down the pass. The cook takes off his apron. The overhead fluorescent buzzes once, steadies.
Mavis puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Go on, honey,” she says, low. “I’ll finish up.”
“But I—”
“Your last two customers, I’ve got them. I’ll put your tips in your locker. Take off your apron and get out of here.”
I untie the brown apron behind my back as I cross the room.
I fold it, put it away in my locker. I run my hands and face under the faucet, trying to get rid of the smell of fryer grease.
The mirror shows me an unflattering reflection—dark circles, hair a mess, yellow T-shirt spotted with coffee.
Nothing I can do about it. I grab my bag, where I’ve stuffed my outfit for the agency—suit and heels.
When I come back out of the locker room, Mavis has moved to the counter and is chatting with one of the customers.
I go straight to Jace. He looks up and smiles at me.
He’s already tucked a bill under the cup. He grabs his backpack, stands, comes toward me. He limps a little on his first few steps.
We’re face to face. I hold out my hand.
“Come on.”
His fingers close around mine. His hand is warmer than mine, and it’s shaking a little.
The bell jingles as I push the door open.