Page 55 of Just Ten Seconds

Once outside, I let the fresh air smack me in the face and wake me up.

“You don’t have to walk me to my car.”

He looks at me with a smile. “Of course I do. Mama Delgado would beat my ass if she knew I let a beautiful woman walk to her car alone in a dark parking lot.”

I slide my rain coat on and tug the belt tight as we walk in silence. When we get to my car, I unlock it and pause before putting my hand on the door.

“Are you okay to drive back?”

“Yes.”

“Will you text me when you get there? Or I’ll worry all night.” He punches his passcode into his phone and then holds it out to me.

“Sure.” I take it and smile at the photo of Amanda as his background screen. I open up the text message screen and send myself a text from his phone.

He takes the phone, and I climb into my car. He closes the door behind me and stands there as I drive down the road. His body is still there until it’s out of view.

I don’t text him when I get back.

Jackie pours herself a jumbo-sized cup of black coffee in her Yeti tumbler. “Please remind me never to drink that much ever again.” Her voice is raspy from singing all night, and I’m pretty sure she bummed a few smokes in the back alleyway because that’s what Jackie does when she drinks.

I slide over a packet of Tylenol.

“Thanks,” she grumbles.

Walking over to the drink fountain, I push the button for water and pour her a glass. “Hydration is key.”

She takes the glass I offered her and downs half before making a face like she’s gonna be sick. “When’s the last time you got drunk?”

I look up as I try to remember. “It was an after-work happy hour, and I had too many cosmos at Smith and Wollensky.”

“God, you were pretentious.”

“I was not,” I say grudgingly.

“You drank eighteen-dollar cocktails at a gourmet steakhouse after work.” When Jackie gives me a knowing grin, I scowl at her. “Your buzz must have cost you a fortune.”

It did. Benjamin was big on entertaining clients and only went to the best restaurants. They all came with a heavy price tag. Even though we had the means, I always felt uncomfortable about spending it.

Benjamin and I actually got into a fight that night over it. I thought he was too lavish, and I wanted to donate some of our income to the charity I was volunteering at. And not just a handsome donation. I mean, the kind of money where we could make a difference. He thought we should only donate what we could write off on our tax returns. No more. No less. To make a point, I started drinking shots of Rémy Martin Louis XIII. Five hundred dollars later, I was sick to my stomach and fighting with my husband on a street corner in Manhattan.

“I drank so much that night that I couldn’t even get out of bed the next day. Haven’t been drunk since. Just a glass of merlot at dinner, and that’s it.”

“You were adulting way too young. Besides, I thought you were a beer girl.” She raises her brows as she pops the Tylenol into her mouth.

“Benjamin liked wine,” I sigh.

“Is anyone other than Connie working this morning?” Nick barks from the kitchen, tapping the bell on the counter to get our attention. While he might be an awesome eighties circle dancer, he is one grumpy short-order cook.

Jackie covers her ears. “We’re right here. You don’t have to scream.”

He lowers his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “Is anyone working here?”

Jackie shushes him. “Seriously. Why so loud?”

I laugh and walk over to the window where Nick is cooking up a storm with such ease that you wouldn’t think he partied until midnight.

“I told her she should stay home. She looks like she’s gonna puke,” he tells me as I grab the plates off the steel counter.