Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“No, with Lisa. I never see Con. Pretty sure he’s avoiding me.” She grins and winks, which doesn’t help my mood. “I wonder why.”
“It’s not because you’re staying here. He’s just a dick.” I look away from her. Why does this bother me so much? I’m the one that walked away from him. I’m the one that’s confused and trying to decide if I can trust him. I’m the one afraid that if I go back, he’ll only destroy what’s left of my heart, and I’m not sure I can survive another loss like that.
Allison’s got every right to work at a job she enjoys, even if my boss/husband/ex/whatever owns the place.
And it’s good for her. That’s pretty obvious. She’s been stable, steady even, and in a really good mood all week.
I can’t take that away.
Even if I really want to, I can’t be that selfish.
“Are you mad?” she asks. “If you’re mad, I can find something else.”
“No,” I say quickly and hold out my hands. She takes them. “No, this is great. I’m really happy you found something you enjoy.”
“You mean that?” She sounds hopeful, and again, I’m reminded that she’s a teenager. I have to be careful with her.
“Yes, absolutely. I understand it’s awkward, but whatever, we can deal with that, right? You’re doing great.”
“Thank you so much. You’re the best!”
We hug, she runs off to watch TV, and I finish my wine.
I don’t know why, but the betrayal lingers.
I thought Allison was here for me, but she came back for the job. I was right, she needs stability and structure—I can’t be mad that she’s doing exactly what I think she should be doing—only I wish Conlan weren’t involved.
That man complicated everything.
At least we didn’t fight. I’m proud of myself for that.
When I go to bed that night, I dream about Conlan, the same dream I’ve been having since I left him. He’s chasing me down a long, dark road, and I keep tripping over rocks, and he keeps saying I can trust him, but some part of me knows that if he ever catches up, I’ll never get away again, so I run and run, until I wake up.
The next day, I have an interview at the diner, and by the following Monday morning, I’m working my first shift.
The pay is an enormous downgrade from what I made with Conlan, but at least I’m not dealing with him. No more early mornings, no more half-drunk girls parading themselves out of his house, no more gorgeous, sexy-as-sin shirtless bosses teasing me with their finely sculpted pecs. No more husband, no more lies.
It’s simple, and I sort of like it. Except during my second shift, a guy sits down in my section, someone that looks weirdly familiar. I can’t place him, and when he leaves, there’s a hundred-dollar tip waiting under his napkin.
“Lucky girl,” an older woman named Dottie says as she bumps me with her hip. “You show a lot of cleavage to that one or what?”
“I don’t know what I did,” I say, bewildered that I got such a big tip for basically nothing.
But each day, around the same time, the guy returns, drinks coffee, eats some eggs, and leaves a huge tip. The other girls all start making jokes about it, and I can’t blame them.
It’s bizarre.
But life falls into a rhythm. For another couple weeks, I work at the diner, I accept my obscenely big tip, and I start to notice a black truck lurking around whenever I leave. It never does anything, but it’s always there. Huge, dark, the engine running, the windows tinted. Probably nothing, but it freaks me out.
“You’re fine,” Allison says one night, another week later. I never imagined I’d have a teenage roommate, but here I am. “What’s wrong with big tips and a weird truck?”
“Uh, pretty sure this is the start to one of those podcasts about a kidnapped girl.”
“It really is always a girl.” Allison sighs. “But you’re fine, really. The truck’s just a regular, and the tip’s just from some rich guy that thinks you’re hot. And you are hot. Way too hot to be working at a diner.”
“Thanks. Sort of. Maybe. I’m not sure if that was backhanded or not.”
Allison ignores my uncertainty. “By the way, I keep meaning to ask but I’ve been kind of afraid you’ll bite my head off. However, this is important to me, so please don’t go for the kill right away.”
“Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re in trouble.”
“What? No, no, it’s not like that. Actually, this is good. My first party is happening at the Lincoln next Friday and I want you to come.”
She rubs her hands together, looking nervous. My eyebrows shoot up, and I’m about to tell her to fuck off with all that, but something stops me.