Patrick glanced at me with a shrug and an odd expression. I shrugged at him and made a face like I felt bad for the guy, which I did. He stayed there, quiet and unmoving. He was a large man. I had seen him and his grandfather standing next to each other, and I knew this guy was a big man, but it wasn't until I was there sitting next to him that I could truly appreciate his stature. He was friendly and notimposing, so I hadn't fully noticed before. Even now, it was hard to see, but I could see his long arm and the way it reached across the bar, combined with the way his legs rested on the floor. I glanced at him every now and then as I cleaned the menus.
After another minute, his eyes opened, and eventually our eyes met when I glanced that way.
"Two jobs?" he asked.
"Technically three."
"Where else?"
"A daycare. I work with four-year-olds."
"You can eat this stuff if you want," he said. He sat up on his stool, but he stared ahead so blankly that I could tell his mind was somewhere else. "You could help me eat this food if you want," he repeated.
The truth was that I was starving. I had worked a long shift. It was a family-owned business, and they were tight with their food and only gave us a twenty percent discount.
"The southwest rolls are tempting," I said, since they had been doing nothing but sitting there getting cold.
"Eat 'em," he said, nudging his chin that way.
"I'll finish my cleaning, and if you're still not making a dent in them when I'm done, I'll see about helping you out."
It was five or ten minutes later when I stashed the last of my restaurant cleaning supplies, washedmy hands, and sat next to him again. I sat closer this time. His head was down on the bar again by the time I got there.
"If you're sleepy, I could box this stuff for you."
"I'm not sleepy, I'm just relaxing. I thought you were coming back over here to eat this stuff with me."
"I did. I am."
He sat up in his stool, looking straight ahead and not at me. He gestured to the food that had been sitting in front of him on the bar this whole time. "Help yourself," he said.
"I thought you would share with me," I replied, not wanting to reach for his food.
He pointed at it. "I am sharing with you. I'm sharing the whole thing. You can have it all."
"No, I wanted you to eat some."
"I'm not hungry," he said.
"Why are you here? Why'd you order food?"
"Why so many questions?" he asked.
"I don't know. I guess if I'm going to sit down and share food with someone, I like to ask a few basic questions. I like to know what I'm ingesting."
He shrugged. "It's food from your restaurant," he said. "No one's forcing you to eat it."
He was so emotionless and matter-of-fact that it took me off guard. I felt a rush of embarrassment, and I stood up without thinking twice about it. I dug for my wallet. I easily found the wad of cash that I tucked away. I was about to bring it out of my purseand set it on the table when I felt his big hand on my arm.
"I'm sorry," he said in that same deep monotone voice. "Please sit with me and eat."
I could tell he meant it, so I didn’t make him beg. I sat back, placing my purse on the bar next to me. I took one of the eggroll pieces and dipped it in soy-ginger sauce before eating half of it in one bite.
Chapter 4
Alex
Cameron and Judd were his two best friends, and all he had done all day was avoid contact with both of them. They were back home in L.A., continuing their own work, plus work on production of the series. Alex had known since breakfast that things were off with the movie, but it was such a shock to him that he refused to believe it enough to repeat the news to them.
