“Great, then, dinner is at six at Mom and Dad’s, that means I’ll be around to pick up my baby at eight thirty, nine. Cool with you?”
One side of his lips lifted up. “Cool with me.”
“Shower and dressing change?” I asked.
“Got it covered,” he muttered.
I didn’t ask.
And I didn’t ask because I knew he found someone else to do it because it upset me so much when I did.
He was looking after me.
Because that was Knox Chambers.
Dammit.
“Right, so…see you later,” I said.
“Yeah, baby.”
I looked to Jacques. “Be good for Uncle Knox.”
Jacques gave a soft woof then panted.
That meant, I will.
I shot Knox a tight smile.
Then I got out of there.
I was at my locker, tying on my server’s apron, trying to understand how I could be hungry after two donuts (yeah, I ate the second one on the way to work—it was fresh, so it was a moral imperative), at the same time knowing it was because I could smell Willow’s muffins baking (she came in before us to do her thing filling the pastry case).
This was when Raye walked through the back door of The Surf Club.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Hey,” she replied, heading to her locker while pulling the strap of her cute crossbody bag over her head.
It was a bag I’d seen. A bag that made me lament our long ago promise not to double up on the same awesome fashion selections because we spent so much time together, before doing that, we’d be spending even more time texting so we could be sure we didn’t go out with the same bag, shoes or entire outfit.
“How’d dinner go last night with Brady?” she queried.
“Our game is good and dead.”
She turned from stuffing her bag in her locker to me.
“So is he going to ask Gemma out, finally?” she asked.
“He and I are tight, but not tight enough to talk about whatever is up with him about Gemma,” I shared. “Every time I broach it, he shuts me down.”
“Oh God, not another one who has to get his head straight before he takes it there,” she muttered, perusing her plethora of different colored servers’ aprons to make the selection that would fit her outfit today.
I did not think this was wasteful.
I had my own plethora, and today I was wearing black to go with my red and white boho print, knee-length, long-sleeve, tassel-tie-at-the-waist dress.
And Raye was not wrong.
