“She got a shot?”
“Honestly, she’s got a shot anywhere she wants.” I drink more coffee and touch her hand. “I’ll be fine. That guy’s no big deal. I’ll turn him down, ignore him, and he’ll find some other toy to distract himself with. Don’t stress.”
“Yeah. Totally. No stress.” Pam gives me the fakest, most stressful smile I’ve ever seen in my life. I swear, her bleached blonde hair somehow turns whiter and the wrinkles around her eyes deepen a quarter inch.
Stellan stares at me as I head onto the floor. I meet his gaze for a beat, my heart stuttering in my chest and some animal part of my brain screaming at me to run and hide, and then I purposefully look away. I appreciate what he did, but I don’t want to lead him on.
Fortunately, it’s an average night shift at Amelio’s. The place is slow from ten to two in the morning. Stellan remains the whole time, reading on his phone, taking a few calls, occasionally ordering food he doesn’t touch. He doesn’t bother me, and I stay away from him. Pam is ceaselessly polite and runs cover for me. Harry asks a few times if he should ask the guy to leave, but I tell him not to bother. He’s ordering food, so who cares?
But his attention is alarming. It’s intense and overwhelming. I struggle against the urge to look back at him as the hours slip past. Stellan’s attractive in a way that doesn’t belong in my life. I have enough space in my head to keep one foot in front of the other and not much else.
Stellan’s practically from another planet as far as I’m concerned.
The drunks start piling in when the bars close for the night. The beer rush is a welcome distraction. We get a few groups of girls and guys, but nobody’s a problem, and a few even tip pretty well. The beer rush ends, but it fades into the breakfast crowd, and I’m worn down to a nub and looking forward to grabbing a quick nap by the time six shows its face. Outside is cold and dim.
I do my last round for the morning. But as I get to my final table, the nice old man who’d been there before is gone.
Replaced by Stellan.
He looks at me casually. That confident smile again. Like he knows he owns the world and there’s nothing I can do about it. That bothers me for some reason. This guy probably has girls throwing themselves at his feet, begging him to take them out after getting a glimpse at his fancy clothes, his expensive watch, and his really good teeth. He could strut through any club in town and leave with the hottest lady on his arm.
Instead, he’s here, in Amelio’s, all freaking night.
I don’t get it.
“You’re in the wrong seat,” I say flatly.
“How was your shift?”
“Fine. Over now. Hope you had a good night.” I turn to walk away.
“Wait.” I pause. He doesn’t touch me, which is maybe why I stick around. “I still want to get dinner with you.”
I turn to look at him. It makes no sense. Stellan’s drop-dead gorgeous in a clean and horrifying way. That menace still lurks under his confidence, and I can’t get a good read on the guy. Everything about him is wrong and perfect.
“Listen, I appreciate what you did the other night, and you hanging around here is flattering—And a little bit psychotic.“But the answer’s still no. I have zero interest in a relationship and even less time for a fling. It’s nothing personal. Just where my life’s at.”
He nods, totally unfazed. I just rejected him, and he’s not reacting to it at all. “We can eat here during your break. Or I’ll sit with you while you drink coffee.”
“Seriously, I have no interest, okay? I’m being as direct and honest as I can. It’s not going to happen.”
His head tilts to the side. I’m ready for him to explode in anger. I mean, he waited here all night! That means I owe him something, right?!
Except he doesn’t. Instead, he just nods. “I appreciate your honesty.” He slips from the booth. “Have a good day, Kira.”
I watch him walk off, slightly bewildered, but happy that confrontation didn’t go wrong. He took it like a man and didn’t whine. I can respect that about him.
I wait until he’s out of the diner before I clear the table. And stop with a coffee-stained saucer in one hand, my mouth hanging open.
A pile of twenties was left under the mug.
“Holy shit,” I say out loud and look around in a panic before grabbing the stack. I flip through quickly, breath catching in my throat. There’s got to be at least five hundred dollars here.
I have a moment. I’m not proud of it. In my defense, I’m very tired. But I wonder if I shouldn’t just shove the money in my apron and walk away with a solid little windfall. Five hundred bucks can change my life. That sounds crazy, but it’s true. Five hundred means heat. It means electricity for a few months. It’s a bunch of frozen waffles for Gem.
“God, I hate myself,” I mutter as I hurry after Stellan, because nobody else in this place could afford to leave that much behind.I burst out onto the sidewalk, shivering my butt off, searching wildly for a glimpse of his sandy hair. And there, halfway down the block, I spot him climbing into a fancy black BMW.
“Wait!” I yell, running after him. The car rumbles to life and pulls out. “Hey, wait a second! The money! Please, just wait!”
