“But the truck…”
“Is fine. I put the Be Right Back sign up. We have fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, but did you—”
“Lock down the register? Yes. It’s all good.” I don’t tell her I know how to lock it down because I accidentally did it earlier and spent five minutes figuring out how to get back into it. She should change her passcode to something other than donuts.
“Oh.” She drops back into her chair. “Okay.”
We sit in silence for several minutes, both of us just trying to relax for the first time in hours.
“That was…”
“Absolute chaos?” she finishes with a sardonic laugh.
“Yeah. I don’t know how you do that regularly.”
“It’s normally not so bad. I usually have help, but…”
“Carla?” I guess. She nods. “Fucking Carla.”
“When I texted her last night, she swore she would be in today for the launch, but guess who didn’t show when I was here to prep at five?”
“Fucking Carla?”
“Yep. So, I fired her, because you were right—I’m worth more than the bullshit she was slinging my way.”
I grin. “Say that again.”
“I’m worth more than—”
“You are, but not that part. The other one.”
She peeks over at me, head tilted. Then she realizes what I’m asking, and she laughs. Only this time, it’s not sarcastic or mean. It’s genuine.
“You were right, Miller.”
“Ah,” I say, stretching my legs out and folding my hands over my stomach. “I love it when you say sweet things to me.”
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the way her lips tip up into a grin.
“I’m sorry she bailed on you. Was Stevie not available?”
“No. She had a thing at Macie’s school. She helps out there a few times a week. I couldn’t ask her to ditch that for my little donut truck.”
I don’t like the way she says little donut truck, like this doesn’t matter or something, but she’s tired and worn out, so I don’t say anything.
“I guess I’m going to have to hire someone else.” She groans, sitting forward and dropping her head into her hands. “Ugh. I’ve done so well not thinking about it all day, and now I am and—”
“Did you know a blue whale’s dick is massive? We’re talking eight to ten feet easily.”
Her mouth hangs open as she stares at me in complete shock. After several seconds, she shakes her head. “I… I… What the hell, Miller?”
I laugh. “Got you to stop thinking about Fucking Carla, didn’t it?”
Slowly, her look of shock transforms into a soft smile, and I realize then that I like her smile. A lot.
She settles back into her chair, looking a lot less stressed.
“Thank you,” she says quietly after a few silent moments. “For today. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“It’s nothing,” I tell her with a shrug. “Besides, that’s what friends are for, right?”
She rolls her head my way, that same smile still playing on her lips. “Yeah, I guess so…friend.”
“Holy shit!” I holler, jumping out of my chair. “You just called me your friend!”
“Ugh.” She grumbles again, rising to her feet. “Don’t make me take it back already.”
“You can’t. No takesies-backsies.”
“Oh, I can definitely take it back.” She points at me as she passes. “And I will, so behave.”
I hold my hands up, trailing behind her as we head back, our fifteen minutes up. “Yes, ma’am.”
We clamber back into the truck, and her eyes widen in surprise when she takes in the state of things.
“Miller…” She says my name softly, like a prayer. “You cleaned up?”
“Best as I could. I wasn’t sure where to put some things, so I left those out.”
“This is a million times better than it was.”
I shrug, not telling her I’m kind of a neat freak thanks to all my years having to pretend to have the perfect family. When you have a family like mine, you get good at cleaning up messes and making things look put together real fast.
“You really didn’t have to do all this, but I appreciate it so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”
I’m not sure why, but her words strike me right in the chest and settle. They burrow into the cavity and latch onto something deep inside of me.
“It was nothing.”
She pins me with a stare that says she knows I’m lying. I’m a fucking pro hockey player whose season is careening closer every day; it’s not like I don’t have things to do. I’m supposed to be training. I’m supposed to be finishing up paperwork. I have homework, like watching tapes and getting ready for a grueling six-plus months ahead of me.
But she lets me have the words anyway and begins cleaning up the rest of the supplies, dropping them into the sink with a promise to clean them later. We work side by side, picking up the truck and packing away some leftovers she’s sure she won’t be able to sell today.
“Well fucking well,” a voice calls from out front. It’s followed by a low whistle and a laugh. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
Shit.
I peek up from the donuts I’m currently boxing up to find Greer grinning at me smugly.
“Hey,” I say like an idiot.
He laughs. “Hey? Hey? That’s all I get? Especially when you’re here with donut girl?”
“Her name’s Scout.”
“Oh, good. You remembered,” the woman in question says, sliding up next to me. “Not sure we’ve officially been introduced.” I’ve been on the receiving end of her icy stares enough times to know that’s what she’s sending Greer’s way right now. She looks polite and sweet, but the look she’s giving him is anything but.
“Greer.”
“Do you work with Miller or something?”
He lifts a brow, his jaw tightening when she doesn’t recognize him. His ego is big enough that it annoys him, but it entertains me.
“Or something,” he mutters, then looks at me. “You get the group text?”
I know which one he’s referring to without asking. It was a chain put together by Smith when he retired that includes him, me, Wright, Rhodes, Lowell, and Greer. We have a strict no-work-talk policy in place. It’s just a place for us to shoot the shit and keep in touch.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, surprised to find a ton of unanswered texts. I’ve been ignoring it all day, and now I wish I hadn’t.
* * *
Smith: I’m saying this as your friend, but I swear, if any of you show up without dates, I’ll make you skate circles for shits and giggles.
* * *
Wright: As your friend…fuck off. You’re not even our real coach, old man.
* * *
Smith: Am too!
* * *
Wright: Whatever you say, Apple.