Right. Thepunitive cleaning.
“Has he played here before?”
I’ve been working at this restaurant for almost three years. I’ve seen dozens of aspiring musicians perform on that tiny stage—each one more talented than the last.
“No. From what he told me, this is his first time playing live here, but I think he’ll do well. I’m pretty sure you’ll like him.”
“Oh, yeah?” I lift an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
Mary nods, gathering her gray hair into a low ponytail. “He just moved here to study music and showed up to audition with two songs I always hear you and Will singing. I’m convinced the customers will like him, too.”
As I step forward to ask the name of this mysterious musical prodigy, the door to the restaurant swings open—and what looks like a large, rowdy family floods in. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mary’s face go pale.
Before I can say a word, she grabs me by the shoulders and steers me toward the staff room. “Go get changed. Quick.”
“Yes, but how does he—”
“Hurry up, Natalie. There’s no time to talk.”
She slams the dressing room door in my face. With a shrug, I peel off the floral top I’m wearing, left standing in just my bra.
I head to my locker, stash my bag inside, and change into the clean outfit I left here last night. Grabbing the restaurant apron from my personal coat rack, I slip out of the room, closing the door behind me. I spot a stack of notebooks on the counter where Mary’s stationed.
I sneak over, grab one along with a blue pen, and head toward my coworkers. The moment Will sees me reaching for the notebook, he pulls me into a hug full of desperation.
“I thought you weren’t coming. I was going crazy. It’s a full house today, and it’s only seven. Where the hell have you been?”
“There was traffic...”
It’s true. Not a lie. Not completely, at least.
His green eyes give me that look—like he knows I’m only telling half the truth. “You were with Steven, huh?”
I start twirling my pen in my brown hair to avoid meeting his amused gaze. “He just couldn’t tear himself away from me. Can you blame him?”
“Was it him who couldn’t break away, or you?” Both. Me.
“Him. He thought he had the hiccups, so I tried using your tone of voice to make him think it was you and scare him—but he didn’t fall for it.”
He raises an eyebrow and sizes me up. “What?”
“After the scare he got when he saw you dressed up as Superman, I thought pretending to be you would help.”
He smiles slyly. “Shut your mouth if you don’t want me to stick a wet finger in your ear. Now tell me the truth—did you fall asleep while he was working?”
I cross my arms, putting on a fake pout. “If I close my mouth, how can I answer? Hey! I helped him bake. I didn’t sleep.”
“How?”
“I tasted the chocolate cream,” I say proudly.
Will, meanwhile, brings a hand to his forehead and shakes his head. “How is he?”
“The cream? Oh, it was delicious. You should’ve tried it. Steven’s getting better every day.”
I hope he left me the cream I didn’t finish so I can eat it later. It was so good. And I hope he lets me help him for real next time.
Will lets out a soft laugh and heads to a table to take orders. I do the same at the table next to his—table seven. After jotting down two pepperoni-and-mushroom pizzas, I apologize to the customers and head off to fill two pitchers of water. Meanwhile, I hang the order on the wire above the window connecting the dining room to the kitchen and ring the bell to be noticed. I see another couple waiting to place their order. As I approach them, Will stops me by holding my arm. I think he wants to finish our conversation.
