‘Are you a teacher?’
‘Actually, I’m a… waitress.’
Her voice hitches when she says it. I don’t know why I’m a little surprised. I thought she was gonna say dance instructor or yoga teacher. No slight on waitresses, but I wonder how she’s able to have such an athletic frame and time to maintain makeup if she’s busy bussing tables every night. ‘So maybe I could swing by where you work? Buy you a coffee on your break?’
‘Maybe. But I don’t wanna be indebted to you.’
‘So… is it like a restaurant?’
‘A diner, actually.’ She looks embarrassed, smoothing down that glossy, shampoo-ad hair. She looks up at me through her dark lashes. ‘It’s over on seventh and Lexington.’
‘So, can I take your number?’
She bites her lip, a smile edging on her mouth before she shakes her head. ‘I really am gonna be late. Maybe swing by the diner sometime?’ She raises her brow.
‘When’s your next shift?’
‘I, uh… Friday. In the morning.’ I notice her glance around the parking lot as she shares the information. I must be keeping her, and I start to feel guilty.
I give her a smile. ‘I’ll be there.’
In one swift move, she tosses the dollar bills into my paper bag and before I know it, she’s backing away from me again.
‘And you’re buying,’ she says, raising her voice.
I shake my head in disbelief, impressed by her quick moves.
‘Thanks again for saving my ass!’ she calls out.
I roll my eyes in jest. Can I still claim to be a hero if she paid me back already? ‘You’re welcome, Serenity.’
I’m still grinning when I walk through the door to three expectant faces.
‘What’s for dinner?’ River blurts out, giving me a once over and noting the sole paper bag in my arms. It’s dark outside.
‘Uh, thought we could get takeout?’ I mutter.
‘Takeout?’ Mom splutters. ‘I knew it, you just bought chips!’
‘And some guac. And salsa.’And then I got distracted by a staggeringly hot woman.
‘Snack food does not a meal make,’ my father chips in, wagging his finger in my mom’s trademark style.
‘You drove all that way, and you couldn’t even buy dinner food?’ River complains. ‘How is it the Mutineers wanna pay you all this cash and you can’t even run basic errands?’
I open the refrigerator and place the quart of milk I bought inside the door. ‘I’m better at running plays.’
She shakes her head at me. ‘I’m hungry. Pass the chips. Or should I say, the main course.’
My father’s bringing up an app on his phone with a sigh. ‘Come on, what y’all hungry for?’
Mom may look pissed at me right now, but I’m not hungry. All I can think about is the chance meeting at the store. I leave Dad to do the food order while I search on my online maps for a diner that’s on seventh and Lexington. It looks to be called The Bounty, and I’ll be making damn sure I head that way Friday morning.
Because there is no way in hell that I’m not getting Serenity’s number.
Chapter Three
Serenity
