“Hey, Annie Bird.” I spin around with a grin, wanting to hug my best friend but not wanting to snot all over her.
I sneeze into my elbow again, then yank a tissue out of my apron pocket.
“Are you sick?”
“No, it’s just hay fever.”
She follows me back to the kitchen. “Did you take something for it?”
“Yeah, I’m just waitin’ for it to kick in.”
I throw the tissue away and wash my hands. Franks hovers in the doorway of the kitchen, obviously scouting the area for Dean.
“He’s gone to Oklahoma City for the day. You’re good.”
Her shoulders relax instantly, a broad smile stretching across her face.
“Aren’t you s’pposed to be at school?” I dry my hands, then rest my fist on my hip.
She smirks. “Free period followed by lunch. Billy’s doing some spring training thing, so I figured I’d come hang with you.”
“Oh yeah?” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at her.
She blushes. “Oh, come on! I’m allowed to be here. I want some more goods on the hottie.”
“You saw him only two days ago.” I keep my head dipped so she can’t see me blushing. “Thanks for the clothes, by the way. They fit him real good.”
“I bet they do.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I roll my eyes and head out to bus some tables.
She follows me, chirping in my ear and helping me carry plates.
“Mama said she’ll stop by tomorrow to take those stitches out, and then he’ll be good to go. How do you feel about that?” Franks places the dirty dishes down next to the sink, her smile sweet and empathetic.
I don’t want to look at it.
“Who’s good to go?” Mateo glances over his shoulder.
“Mind your business.” I frown at him and bolt from the kitchen, talking over my shoulder while I move in behind the cash register. “I don’t want to think about it. It’s not like I’m gonna tell him to leave,” I whisper before turning on a smile. “How was your meal, Mr. Hayes?”
He shrugged. “Not bad.”
Dammit. A “not bad” from Mr. Hayes means it was terrible.
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
He smiles at me and shakes his head, passing me a twenty. “Keep the change.”
I gaze down at the bill, wishing I could somehow break it without drawing attention to what I’m doing. There goes my tip.
With a short huff, I slip it into the register and turn back to my friend.
“Don’t waste a chance like this.” She points at me.
I give her an incredulous look. “This chance? What chance? He’s gonna leave. You want me to break my heart?”
“No. Of course not. But come on. Maybe if you make a move, he won’t go.”
I give her a withering stare. “So you’re just expecting him to live in that pokey little attic? He can’t spend the rest of his life reading books and entertaining me on my breaks.”
“Oooo! How does he entertain you?” Franks’s eyebrows start jumping up and down.
I shake my head and point to Table Five. “Go sit. I’ll come take your order in a minute.”
“I better not stay.”
“I thought you were here for lunch.”
She blushes. “I just really wanted an update.” Looking over her shoulder at the kitchen, she cringes and then whispers, “I think I’ll grab something at the store rather than riskin’ food poisoning. Love you.” Kissing my cheek, she’s off in a flash, and I’m left to roll my eyes and figure that she probably only stopped in to tell me something she just could have texted me.
“Excuse me, Annie.” Mrs. Charleston clicks her fingers at me.
I head for the table, putting on a kind smile. She’s actually a sweet old lady and has never been mean to me.
“I’m sorry, honey, but this food isn’t cooked properly.”
Keeping my smile in place is an effort. Dammit, Mateo!
I sniff and lean over her plate. With her fork, she parts the fried chicken, and my gut sinks when I notice the pink middle.
“I am so sorry. Let me take that for you. I will be back with a fresh plate of chicken as soon as I can.”
I spin away, muttering under my breath. This plate of food is coming out of my paycheck. I just know Dean won’t do me any favors.
The sides of this hole I’m in just keep getting taller and taller.
“Excuse me, miss.”
I glance over my shoulder to spot a father with three kids waving at me.
“We’re ready to order.”
“I’ll be with you in just a minute.” It hurts to smile, but I force my mouth to move, then sniff my way into the kitchen, dumping the plate down next to Mateo.
Jackson’s sitting on a stool near the sink, playing on my phone.
“What are you doing?” I snatch it off him.
He looks up at me with his big doe eyes and shrugs. “I’m hungry.”
“And how is playing on my phone feeding you?”
“Mateo said he’d make me something in a minute.”
“Yeah, well, he can’t do that until he’s fixed this.”
“Mine first.” Celia waltzes in. “Dammit, Mateo, you’re at your worst today. People don’t want blood running into their burger buns. You’ve got to cook the meat patties for longer.”
“Orders are comin’ in fast, and I’m trying to fill them,” he grumbles. “If you’re not hassling me about being too slow, you’re bitchin’ at me for not cooking things enough!” He slaps the metal spatula against the edge of the grill.
Celia rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she goes out to deal with more unhappy customers.
“People can’t eat undercooked food.” I plant my fist on my hip. “Do you want them all to go home sick?” I sniff and slash my finger under my nose. “Now you better make us up new plates. And if I have to start offering free meals, it’s comin’ out of your paycheck.”
“You’re not my boss, Annie.” Mateo glares at me. “Those people are being fussy. It’s barely pink.”
“It’s inedible! And they’re the customer. They’re payin’ for this food, so do it again and do it fast.”
“Just throw it in the microwave for a minute.”
“No! It’ll wilt the lettuce. You have to cook them a new plate of food.”
“That’s bullshit!” He wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. “I’m already behind on my orders. And I’ve got a headache.”
“It’s not my fault you’re slow and can’t cook anything. And you’ve probably got a headache because you’re hung over.”
“You want to do this, huh?” He holds out the spatula.
I step back from it like it might burn me. Crossing my arms, I snarl at him, “That’s not my job. Dean stupidly hired you to cook. So get on with it.”
His upper lip curls, his eyes sending me a clear message. “Cut me some slack! And stop being so damn rude.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I hurtin’ your feelin’s?” I snap. My damn back is up now, and my tongue’s just doing its thing. “You’re not the one in there trying to put out firestorms after servin’ up your shit food!”