"What did she say?"
"It was all kind of a blur..."
June approaches our table with a pot of coffee. "Hey Miller, I didn't know you were still in town."
"June, hey, yeah, I was gone for a few days but I'm back for the foreseeable future." Miller turns toward her.
"Oh, that's cool. Are you setting up a permanent residence?"
"Yeah, I got a place over at The Wellerton. Cora's decorating it, actually."
"I'm sure it'll turn out beautifully if she's in charge of it."
"I don't have any doubts," Miller tells her.
The forced awkward small talk is borderline painful.
"Speaking of Cora," June says. "Have you heard from her lately?"
"I've been in touch, yeah, why?"
June shrugs and her face seems to drop. "We were supposed to get together at the beginning of the week, but she's been blowing me off."
"She's probably busy with work. I can say something to her the next time I see her?" Miller's phone vibrates rather loudly, and he immediately reaches and slides it out of his pocket. He checks the screen quickly and disregards it.
"No, it's fine," June tells him. "You're probably right. This project she's working on is big. Anyway...did you two want to order anything?"
I shake my head and Miller adds, "No, I think we're good with coffee, thanks."
"For sure." She gives us her fake customer service smile. "Let me know if you need anything else."
"Thanks, June," I say as she's walking away.
It's strange to see the roles reversed—June's usually my boss and here she is, my waitress. I'll never understand why she works here when her boyfriends are loaded, but that's her life, not mine.
"You were saying," Miller continues where we left off.
"Yeah, so, the shit she was saying was off the wall. But hear me out, she mentioned..." I look out to make sure June isn't near before I say, "Ricardo."
Miller's fist tightens again, and he brings it onto his lap like he's trying to contain it as if it will detonate at any given second. "What do you mean she mentioned him?"
"I don't know dude; it didn't make sense. None of it did. I asked her the next day, and she said she was drunk and chalked it up to that."
"Why are you telling me this?" Miller asks me.
"Because man, you bought a whole fucking building just to fire her boss. It's no secret you care about her. I was hoping maybe, I don't know, this is going to sound fucking crazy..." I hate that the idea even came into my head, but I can't think of anything else to ensure her safety.
"Just say it," Miller blurts out.
"Could you like, put a tracker on her or something? Monitor where she's going. Is that even a thing?"
Miller runs his hand through his hair. "Yeah, it's a thing. And..." He lets out an exaggerated sigh.
"Well don't leave me fucking hanging here."
Miller side-eyes me and lowers his voice. "I already put one on her."
"What? When?"
