Connie brought him his water. “Decide on dessert yet?”
Sam reluctantly lowered the menu. “I’ll take the key lime pie.”
“Good choice.” She took back the menu and headed to another table.
“How was your day?” he heard Walter ask. Sam leaned back in his seat to better hear Annie’s answer. It felt voyeuristic, or something a little old lady would do, but the way the booths were set up, he couldn’t have avoided overhearing their conversation even if he wanted to.
“It was great,” said Annie. It was the first time he’d heard her voice. He didn’t know her, but something in her tone told him she was lying. She’d had a crummy day. Either that, or she was tense.
Connie startled him by laying a plate of food and a bottle of ketchup down on the table. Had she caught him listening in to the conversation in the next booth? If she had, there was nothing in her expression to reveal it. “Here you go, hon. Can I get you anything else?”
“This all looks great, thanks,” he said.
She left to take Annie and Walter’s order. “Two meat loaf specials?” he heard Connie ask.
“I’ll have the fish,” said Annie.
“Not this again,” Walter said. “Didn’t we go through this last week?”
“This time I’m really having the fish,” Annie said firmly.
“Don’t expect me to switch plates again,” said Walter.
Walter either hadn’t picked up on the tightness in Annie’s voice or he didn’t care, because he spent the next twenty minutes talking about the workings of some law firm that nearly put Sam to sleep. He’d only gotten a quick glimpse of the guy as he’d walked through the door, but Sam already had him pegged as the useless self-important type. Not that Sam had anything against lawyers. On the contrary, he employed a whole team of them. Or rather, the company did. But there was something especially smarmy about this one that made the back of Sam’s neck itch. It was the way he talked to Annie. Every time she tried to bring the subject around to something halfway interesting, Walter would find a way to detour the conversation back to him.
Sam had just finished his meat loaf when he heard Annie announce, “Walter, I need to talk to you about something important.”
Uh-oh. Sam laid down his fork.
“I told you not to order the fish,” Walter said. “You’ve barely touched it. You should have stuck with the meat loaf.” The strain in Annie’s voice should have put Walter on alert. Instead, the guy had just brushed her off again. What a dick.
“It’s not about the fish,” said Annie. “It’s about us.”
“What about us?”
Tomorrow morning would be too late. She was breaking up with him in the middle of dinner at The Miramar Café.
“Maybe we should take a break, Walter.”
There was a long, drawn-out silence before Walter responded. “What kind of break?”
He’d come to town to tell Annie not to break up with Walter, but after listening in on their conversation, Sam was convinced Annie could do a lot better than this guy. Breaking up with him was probably the smartest thing she could do. Eventually, she would have done it on her own, he could see that now. Hence, there was no need to feel guilty. And, more importantly, no need to try to talk her out of anything.
Suddenly, Sam felt a whole lot better about everything. He scooped up the last of his key lime pie. Connie was right. This was damn good stuff.
“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” Annie said, “and I really do think it’s best that—”
Sam started coughing violently. The pie, as his mother liked to say, had gone down the wrong way. Connie, who was walking around the tables refilling water glasses, froze at the sound of his hacking. Her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, Roy, are you choking? Do you need help?”
Choking? Nah. He just needed a minute to get the pie down, but before he could put a hand up in the air to allay her fear, she yelled, “This man needs help! He’s choking.”
A half dozen people jumped up from their seats and ran to crowd around his booth, including Annie and Walter. “I know CPR,” said Walter. “I can do the Heimlich!”
9
What in the world? Was that Sam DeLuca sitting in the booth next to hers? Choking? They locked gazes. He was coughing and his face was slightly red, but other than that, he didn’t seem to be in distress. Annie thought back to the CPR course she and Walter had taken together just a couple of months ago. If a person is actively coughing, let them cough out the obstruction on their own.
Walter must have missed that part of the class because he not so gently nudged her out of the way. “I need room to work.” He pointed to Connie. “You, in the black skirt,” he said, like he didn’t know her name. “Call for help!”
Connie pulled a cell phone from her shirt pocket and began frantically punching in numbers.
“Walter,” said Annie, “maybe we should let him cough it up on his—”
“Annie, for God’s sake, the man’s life is in danger. Didn’t you pay any attention in class? If we don’t get the obstruction out, his airway will close.”
Sam DeLuca stood from his seat to face them. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m—”
But Walter didn’t let him finish. In a movement that startled not just Sam but Annie as well, Walter grabbed Sam by the elbow, then wrapped his arms around his chest. The hand placement didn’t look right for the Heimlich Maneuver, but Annie didn’t think Walter was open to suggestions right now.
Sam looked over his shoulder to give Walter an incredulous look that almost made Annie laugh. Except, he also looked ready to punch Walter in the nose.
“Don’t worry, Roy,” Connie said soothingly, “Walter knows what he’s doing. And help is on the way.”
Roy? Who the heck was Roy?
Sam easily worked his way out of Walter’s grasp. “Thanks, but I’m not choking.” He picked up his glass of water and took a big swig.
“You’re not?” Walter sounded disappointed.
“No, I’m not.”
“Then why did you act like you were choking?”
“Yeah,” said Connie adding to the accusation. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Look,” said Sam, “I appreciate your concern. But I’m good now.” His Texas drawl sounded even yummier in person than it did on TV.
“Are you sure?” asked Walter. “There could still be something lodged in your throat. Maybe I should try to clear it out anyway.”
The door to the diner opened, and Annie’s cousin Sophie, dressed in scrubs and carrying a small backpack, walked into the diner. Her dark eyes scoured the dining area.
“Over here!” yelled Connie. Sophie briskly made her way through the small crowd of diners that had gathered around to gawk.
“What are you doing here?” Annie asked her cousin.
“Connie called the office and said that a customer needed help, so I ran over.” Sophie worked for Doc Barnes, the only GP in Old Explorer’s Bay. Their office was located across the street. “We stay open late every Tuesday for walk-ins.”