“Hey now. Why do you doubt that it’s me?”
She gives me a pointed stare.
“Okay, it’s not me,” I admit. “DeeDee just...needs time.”
Paige nods, and I start to think she’s reached her maximum conversing capacity. We head down the next block in silence and approach Taverne Toulouse. The sign spelling out the bar’s name in typewriter font is swaying in the slight wind, and the day is warm enough that the garage door-style windows that make up the front of the building have been hiked up a few feet to let the breeze in. Next week, we’ll be setting up the little temporary patio we have a permit for every summer.
Paige turns to me just before pulling open the front door.
“I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but if she needs time, maybe you need to ask yourself how much time you’ve got.”
She heads inside before I can come up with a reply.
We’re early for the general staff meeting that’s been called to start off the night. With the weather so gorgeous and the universities all done exams, we’re expecting an even bigger crowd than Paige’s last set, and Monroe wants to prep the troops for battle herself tonight.
“Zach! My man!”
Dylan calls out to me the second I step in the room, pulling my thoughts away from the mystery of Paige.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. “Employees only, sir!”
“What are you gonna do? Kick me out?” He steps away from the bar, where he seems to have been talking with Renee. “As the former kitchen manager, I’m giving myself permission to crash the staff meeting.”
The two of us do the one-armed-hug-slap-each-other-on-the-back thing. I turn to introduce him to Paige, but she’s already over at the DJ booth, messing around with the equipment.
“You’re not going to get trashed again this time, are you?” I ask in a fake scolding voice. “You know you can’t keep up with the kids like you used to.”
“Very funny, Zachy Zach. Speaking of...” His eyes light up with that signature Dylan spark. “You’re not gonna bring DeeDee home again, are you?”
I deliver a punch to his arm. “Keep it down, man.”
“Are you?” he urges, lowering his voice. “Please tell me you finally made a move.”
“We—”
I get interrupted by the sight of DeeDee herself emerging from the kitchen and slipping behind the bar with a few empty pitchers in hand. She says something to Renee before throwing her head back to laugh, still grinning ear to ear as she starts stuffing the pitchers onto their shelf.
Her May Flowers crown has made a return. It’s the official theme of the night, and all the staff have flower accessories on. I’ve got a wedding-style boutonniere I picked up from a flower shop tucked into the chest pocket of my flannel, and Renee is wearing a few leis around her neck. Dylan is of course rocking a corsage worn on his wrist like a girl heading off to prom.
DeeDee and her crown still steal the show.
Dylan’s eyes follow my gaze, and he lets out a low whistle.
“You did make a move, didn’t you?”
“What? No,” I deny.
“Dude, I’ve watched you stare at DeeDee like she’s a distant oasis in the Sahara desert for years. Now you look at her like you’ve had your cake and eaten it too.”
I punch him again. “Shut up.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say.” He makes a zipper motion over his lips. “But I’m getting the details later.”
I have a few things to take care of, so I leave him to continue distracting Renee as I head over to make sure all the sound equipment is functional. DeeDee’s been so focused on getting the bar set up that she hasn’t noticed me yet, and I don’t interrupt her. We haven’t seen each other outside of work all week, and the longer the distance stretches between us, the more I can’t help feeling like I’m tip-toeing around a bomb. All I want to do is run behind the bar and pull her into my arms before kissing her senseless in front of everyone, but there’s a threat of detonation in the air that stops me from even saying hello.
She’s just busy.
Even my thoughts don’t sound convincing.
Paige needs help tracking down a few cables, but other than that, we’re good to go. That leaves me with a fair amount of time before the meeting, so I head into the kitchen to see if anyone needs help. We’re opening later than usual tonight to get prepped for the event, so the kitchen is fairly quiet, and there’s nothing for me to help with. I turn back to the hall just as DeeDee starts heading down it from the other side. She freezes.
“Oh, hey.” I give her a stupid little wave before letting my hand drop to my side.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were here!”
There’s no way she didn’t notice me before this. I’ve been traipsing around the bar for twenty minutes.
“You seemed busy.” I take a few steps closer. “I like the crown.”
She adjusts it on her head, the tension in her body relaxing a little. “Merci! I’m glad I got to wear it again.”
“You can wear it for me whenever you want.” I get close enough to reach out and brush my fingers along her arm. She tenses up again as soon as I touch her.
“Zach!” she whisper-yells. “We’re at work.”
“I know, I just...You look really pretty.” I let my hand fall away. “I’ve missed you this week.”
Her face softens even as her posture stays rigid. “I’ve missed you too.”
I know it’s not the time or place for this conversation. In fact, I can’t think of a worse time or place, but I can’t stop myself from asking.
“Are we...Are you...okay?”
I don’t miss her sharp intake of breath, even with the din of the bar echoing around us.
“I’m fine.” She forces another smile.
As Paige would say with some withering sarcasm in her voice: convincing.
“You wanna help me get lemons?” she asks.
The tension doesn’t leave the air, but we both grin a little at the memory that brings up.
“Of course. Just don’t try to lock me in the fridge again. I know your tricks now.”
She sashays past me into the kitchen and leads the way to the walk-in. We sort through the towering shelves of cartons and crates to find what we need. The door cuts off the sounds of the kitchen, the only noise in the room besides the ones we’re making coming from the humming of the bare light bulb overhead.
“What were you thinking about that day?” she asks me in the midst of our debate about how many lemons we’ll need.
“What day?”
“The one where you thought I locked you in here.”
“Right.” I feel my face getting hot. “Well, to be honest, I was, uh, trying really hard not to look at your boobs.”
She bursts out laughing. “Mon dieu! No way!”
“It’s true,” I insist. “You were wearing a shirt just like that, and when you crossed your arms, it was...it was a very distracting situation.”
“What, like this?” She leans against one of the shelves and crosses her arms over her chest, giving her boobs a little extra lift with her forearms.
I lift my eyes to the ceiling. “Yes. Like that.”