When I haven’t responded promptly enough, Hunter texts back, “Do you work tomorrow?”
“Sure do. Two to close.”
“That’s lame.”
“Agreed.” On impulse, I grab my phone and take a picture of the small silverware pyramid I’ve started to build. I attach it to the message and type, “I’m trying to work right now, but some handsome distracter keeps texting me.”
“He sounds hot. You should go to his place after you leave.”
I chuckle. “He does still have a couple of hours left on his day pass…”
“Don’t tease me like that.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” I tease.
“Come over and find out.”
I consider it as I wrap another roll of silverware. Mom is at work, so she wouldn’t know if I didn’t go straight home…
I know I shouldn’t sleep with Hunter again, but I’m liking this day pass excuse. It gives me a brief window of time to be carefree with him, but there’s an expiration date so he understands nothing has changed and I don’t have to worry so much about sending him mixed signals.
Mom’s words from the kitchen float back to the surface of my mind.
I don’t have commitment issues, right?
No, of course not. That thought only crossed her mind because she doesn’t know I have a valid reason for being reluctant to commit to him. She doesn’t know about Hunter and Valerie, or me going to his house that day and asking him to leave her alone.
Yuck, I don’t want to think about that.
But now I am.
I pull a face, grabbing my phone off the table and shoving it back in my apron so I won’t be tempted to look at it anymore.
I’m still tempted when I feel the vibration and I know he’s sent another message, but I exercise better self-control this time and ignore it while I finish up with the silverware.
Despite myself, the errant thought crosses my mind, I wonder if he ever texted her like this. Trying to coax her to come over and fuck him while his mom wasn’t home.
If he did, she definitely went. There’s no chase with Valerie.
Ugh.
I feel icky now, so I continue to avoid checking my phone as I go about the rest of my closing work.
When I get outside and the other waitress locks the door behind me, I remember that I don’t have the car tonight. I sigh, looking down the sidewalk. My feet already hurt from running around all night while we were busy. I don’t want to walk home.
I need to start saving up for a car.
I don’t need a nice one, just something to get me around town.
My phone buzzes again.
“When do you get off?” he asked.
I sigh and text back. “I’m leaving now, but I’m heading home. I didn’t finish my weekend homework yesterday since I had to get ready for the party, and I have to work tomorrow, so I won’t have time.”
“Long night?”
“Yeah. My feet hurt. I think I need to buy more comfortable work shoes.”
“Are you walking?”
“Yep. The environment loves me,” I tell him.
“You need to get a car.”
“Agreed. It’s on my to-do list. I don’t have enough for a down payment yet.”
He just sends back, “…”
“Yes, I know you would give me money for a down payment. I appreciate it, but that’s not necessary. Thank you, though.”
He doesn’t say anything back, so I tuck the phone in my apron and start the walk home.
About halfway there, he sends me three links.
“Do you like any of these?”
I don’t even have to click them to know they’re cars, but I check them out anyway just to see what they cost. I’m not sure what percentage I’d have to put down on a car loan. Maybe I’ll ask my mom.
I expect anything Hunter would send me to be far outside of my price range anyway, but I’m pleasantly surprised to find the first car is a used Volkswagen, a few years old with great mileage and a gorgeous midnight blue color. The best part? It’s under $10,000. I didn’t want to spend more than 5k to keep my payment reasonable, but I actually really like the car.
I click the next link. It’s a used Lexus, also blue. This one is a year newer than the Volkswagen and gorgeous inside, but it’s also triple the price. It’s so far outside of my price range, I laugh out loud as I close the window and click the third one.
It’s a black BMW. I see the price first, so I don’t even bother to look at the pictures.
“You like blue cars, huh?” I ask him.
“I can see you in a blue car,” he texts back.
“I actually really like the first one, I’m gonna show it to my mom. It’s a little more than I planned to spend, but I might be able to make it work if I like it enough.”
“Don’t look at the prices, look at the cars,” he sends back. “I wouldn’t have sent you a car I couldn’t buy you.”
“You are not buying me a car,” I inform him.
“Come on, you won’t let me buy you a house, at least let me buy you a car.”
“No.”
“You really like that word, don’t you?” he texts back.
I crack a smile. “It’s my favorite.”
“I’m gonna find a way to strip it from your vocabulary, just you wait and see.”
My smile widens as I text back, “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
Chapter Forty Three
Riley
When the doorbell rings Sunday morning, I am still in my pajamas, sitting on the couch with my mom as we debate what to do with our unexpected day off together.
I was supposed to work today, but Deb called an hour ago and told me not to come in. Apparently, it’s a slow day and they won’t need me, after all.
She also told me there was a change in the schedule and they won’t need me for the weekend shifts I was supposed to work next weekend. It seems a bit odd, but I haven’t worked there long. Maybe it’s not unusual to have a lot of flux in the schedule. Makes it pretty difficult to plan around work, though. Hopefully, this week is a fluke.
I’m a little worried about only having one day of work this week, but Deb assured me I didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not being punished. It’s just a schedule change, that’s all.
“Was Ray supposed to come over?” I ask as I walk toward the front door.
Mom is still sitting on the couch, but she’s cross-legged and sideways, so she looks over at me. “No, he’s working today. He has in-home personal training with this tacky rich lady who keeps trying to bang him.”
I pause and look back, surprised. “And you’re okay with this?”
She shrugs. “She tips well. It’s not like he’s gonna do it.”
When I open the front door, I am a bit shocked to see the flower delivery man. He has an armful of colorful flowers, all different kinds. “What is this? It’s not even Monday.”
He flashes me a smile. “Right? I was surprised, too.”
I take the flowers. Usually there’s a card in the bouquet, but giving them a cursory glance, I don’t see one.
“Here you go,” the delivery man says, nabbing my attention.