“Probably not,” he says. “But it’s not like I’m going home tonight. At least in there I can have a slice of pie.” He reaches out his hand to me, and I squeeze it before we both get out of the car.
Wes adjusts his sling several times, but he still manages to beat me to the door. He pulls it open, a set of bells jingling, and he holds it for me to walk in first.
I’m immediately smacked with the smell of grease and syrup, the air warm and a little sticky. I sweep my eyes around the empty restaurant, and my heart sinks when Michael Realm is nowhere in sight.
CHAPTER NINE
“HOW YOU DOING TONIGHT, DOLL?”a woman’s voice calls. I glance over the counter to where there is a large rectangular hole leading into the kitchen and find an older woman smiling. “Go ahead and sit wherever you want,” she adds.
A cook appears next to her, wearing a white hat, and the woman comes through the swinging door to pause behind the counter. She’s wearing an old-fashioned pink uniform with apron, and she has bleached hair and orange lipstick.
“Two coffees?” she asks, as Wes slides into a booth at the side of the room.
“Yes, please,” I tell her. “And a slice of apple pie if you have it.”
“You got it,” she says with a smile, and then goes to the stack of coffee cups behind the counter.
I get to the booth, and Wes is all the way in, his right shoulder next to the partition, looking even more swollen from the swath of bandages under his shirt. I’m about to get in on the other side of the booth, but he shakes his head.
“Next to me,” he says. “I’d love to say it’s to protect you, but it’s actually to protect me.” He smiles. “I’m not much muscle right now. Maybe we should call for backup.”
“We won’t need muscle,” I say, sliding in next to him. We’re facing the door, and I stare at it, willing it to open. I’m suddenly terrified that Realm won’t show. That this will all end with handlers rushing into a diner off the highway, one town over, and dragging me out. That I’ll disappear, and no one will ever find me again. It’s a terrifying thought.
The server comes over and drops off two cups, filling them with steaming coffee. It smells strong, and Wes practically dives for it when she’s done. She smiles at him, putting the slice of pie where he can reach it. Opening his napkin for him and handing him the fork. His sling is garnering him some extra attention, and he definitely doesn’t mind.
“Did you want whipped cream, honey?” she asks him. “Or some ice cream? How about some ice cream on the house?”
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Mable,” Wes says with a grin, reading her name tag. The woman practically melts at his adorableness and tells him she’ll be right back.
I look sideways at him, my eyebrow hitched up. “Uh...” I say. “Ten minutes ago?”
Wes stabs his fork into his pie and then holds the piece out to me. Reluctantly I lean forward and take the bite off the fork. He smiles, setting the utensil down, and slides his hand onto my leg.
“No,” he says in explanation. “What you did was the hottest thing anyone’s ever done for me. There’s a difference.”
I slap his hand off my knee, making him laugh.
There is the jingle at the door, and Wes and I immediately straighten and look in that direction. My heart skips when Michael Realm stands there, finding us immediately.
He looks like shit, although admittedly, Wes and I aren’t in great shape either. Realm lowers his eyes to the patterned tiles and heads toward us.
“Hi, doll,” the server calls to him. Michael nods to her, asks for coffee, and she tells him it’s coming right up.
“You were right,” Wes says under his breath. “He is fairly cute.”
I sniff a laugh just as Realm reaches our table. He sits down across from us, and his eyes skate past me, at once apologetic and suspicious. He has a folder in his hands, and he puts it on the seat next to him. I’m shocked by how awful he looks up close. He’s pale and tired, his T-shirt helplessly wrinkled. His eyes are bloodshot, rimmed in red.
The server drops off a bowl of ice cream for Wes and pours Realm a cup of coffee. She asks if we want anything else, but I tell her we’re fine. When she’s gone, I lean into the table toward Realm.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, a flash of worry in my voice. Realm finally meets my gaze, holding it a moment with a soft smile on his lips. Without answering, he turns to Wes and extends his hand.
“Michael Realm,” he says, introducing himself. Wes doesn’t hesitate with any macho crap. He shakes Realm’s hand and tells him it’s nice to finally meet him.
Realm sits back and begins to stir too much sugar into his coffee. “I’m glad you’re here together,” he says. “For the record.”
“Noted,” Wes replies, narrowing his eyes, trying to figure Realm out. Good luck with that. Realm’s secrets have secrets.
Realm takes a sip of his coffee and hums out that it’s good. He takes another gulp and then pushes his cup aside and folds his hands in front of him.
