Chapter
36
“Does Shawn notknow you and hot pilot are banging?” Darla asks before I even have my apron untied from my waist. I’m on the tail end of the Saturday morning shift, and she’s here for the lunch run. Usually, I’m bummed when our work times don’t line up.
But then she loudly asks about my sex life, and I start not minding so much.
“What?” I sputter on the word. “Why—no—don’t talk about me banging here!” I whisper-yell the last bit, my eyes flicking over to where Mrs.McGuire’s head popped up, her shrewd eyes focusing on the two of us.
“Why not? Riann isn’t here. No young ears to corrupt.” Darla spins a butter knife between her fingers with the dexterity of an assassin. My friend really is terrifying.
“We’re at work.” I offer the excuse that I know won’t mean much to her.
“Yeah. That’s the thing. Shawn came in here last night looking for you.”
Oh no. “He did?”
Darla nods, her gaze more discerning than Mrs.McGuire’s could ever be. “He said you canceled book club because you had to work. But you weren’t working here. So all I can think is that you were shacking up with George and didn’t want that annoying ray of sunshine you call a brother to know about it.”
“What did you tell him?” I ask, evading her question as my palms start to sweat.
This is going to be a fight. I’m going to fight with my best friend, and I need a moment to brace for it.
“I told him to stop being nosy.” Darla twirls the knife faster. “And that if he could keep his mouth shut for twenty whole minutes, I’d make out with him behind the diner on my break.” She smirks. “Not a peep from him after that.”
“Cool. Don’t need a play-by-play of that, but thanks for using your feminine wiles to hypnotize him for me.”
“I did it partly for you, and partly because he’s less annoying when his mouth is occupied.” Her eyes narrow. “Now tell me. Is the mile-high club a secret?”
“We don’t have sex in the plane,” I grumble.Just a heavy petting session pressed up against it.“And no. Shawn and I haven’t talked about it, but what George and I are doing isn’t a secret.”
The knife stops.
“Then why,” she asks, voice cold, “exactly, are you lying to your brother? Aboutanotherthing?”
I wince. She might as well have jammed that butter knife under my ribs. “I wasn’t lying. Iwasworking last night.”
Darla, already a few inches taller than me, seems to have grown a foot during this conversation. “Where? At the airport?”
If only.I shake my head, close my eyes, and let the truth spill out because although I may not share everything the moment it happenswith my best friend, she is the one person I’ve never lied to. There’s something freeing about having a friend who is constantly pissed off. Mad is her default setting, and so I’m less scared of admitting the truth.
“I want to pay Shawn back as quickly as possible, so I looked for a second job, and the only one in town with hours and better than minimum wage pay that I’m qualified for was”—big breath and brace for a punch to the tit—“Beefies.”
There’s a loud metallic clang. I blink my eyes open and realize Darla has slammed the knife down on the counter, palm flat over the potential weapon.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Beth!” She’s seething, and I swear I see smoke billowing out of her nostrils. “Beefies? You’re already working more than full-time here, and you decided the best thing to do was get a job at that shitty, meat-filled man cave?”
Darla isn’t keeping her voice down, announcing to the whole diner my shame.
I cringe, not exactly feeling up to defending the place after what went down last night.
“You’re working at Beefies?” The quiet question comes from just behind me, and my stomach bottoms out, landing with a splat on the turquoise tiles beneath my stained sneakers.
Slowly, I turn, feeling like I’m in a horror movie when I see that both Sally and Sam stand mere feet away. Sally’s eyes are wide with disbelief. And, oh god, are they shining with the beginning of tears?
Guilt punch, straight to the gut.
Sam, meanwhile, simply looks confused. And sad.
