I leaned over into the aisle, my gaze sliding down her body. She was barefoot. Why was she at a diner this late with her shoes in her hand?
She wasn’t any of my concern, though. Her predicament shouldn’t bother me.
I wiped my chin and finished the last of my soup and sandwich as Mary, my usual waitress, returned with my card. I signed the receipt and watched as the older waitress met Liya. Together they walked along the counter, where she handed Liya the phone.
Something was most definitely not right, aside from her odd behavior and ruffled look. Why didn’t she have a cell phone?
Not my business, remember?
Liya slumped her shoulders while on the phone, then walked back around the corner to sit on a stool. She planted her elbows on the countertop and dropped her face against her hands, heaving out a breath as her body went limp.
I had to walk past her to get to the door, right? And it would kill me if I found out later that she’d been in trouble and something happened because I didn’t stop to ask.
Taking my jacket, I approached her continuously narrowing shoulders, as if she were trying to make herself smaller.
“Something got you down?”
“Move along,” she grunted without looking up.
“Are you okay, Liya?”
She slowly peered over her hands, her cheeks flushed, her eyes watery and smeared with eyeliner beneath her lashes. I automatically sat down and leaned into her, my heart racing with a hundred possibilities of what had put the all-empowered Liya in such a beaten state. She didn’t bother pulling away or telling me to shove off, which worried me even more.
“What happened to you?”
She cleared her throat, sat upright, and looked straight ahead, blinking rapidly a few times. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
She licked her bottom lip in contemplation but didn’t have a smart comeback. I leaned an arm on the counter. My knee almost touched her leg. Would she slap me if I brushed some of that unruly hair out of her face? Something told me it was best not to touch her, no matter how much I wanted to.
“Do you need a ride?” I asked gently.
“No.”
“How are you getting home?”
Her bitter gaze relaxed. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What happened to your shoes?”
“I broke them.”
“That’s too bad. They’re pretty.”
“And worth fourteen hundred dollars.”
What the hell? Were they made of gold and stardust?
“Are you going to hang around here all night?”
“A cab’s coming,” she said.
“Good. It’s late. The diner closes in five minutes.”
She groaned.
“The cab is coming before then, right?”
“Why do you care?”
“I’d hate to leave knowing that you had to wait outside, alone in the dark. When’s the cab getting here?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Are you sure that you don’t want a ride home?”
“Yep.” She kept her focus on the wall ahead, at the stacked glasses and coffee cups.
“Are you hungry?”
“What?” She looked at me, startled.
“Have you eaten? I can buy you dinner.”
“I can buy my own dinner.”
“Let me guess…you were on a date or something?”
“Leave,” she growled, and I had my answer.
“Some idiot left you hanging, huh?”
“I swear to god if you don’t leave me alone…”
I tapped the counter. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Go help yourself.”
“Fine,” I snapped and left, casting one last glance over my shoulder at her frigid frame.
I walked out into a gust of wind but waited at the end of the row of windows. I wanted to see if she would change her mind, but Liya didn’t strike me as the type of woman who swallowed her pride long enough to seek help.
Through the glass window, I caught her watching me, but she promptly turned back around. Her back stiffened.
What a proud woman.
And what a sap I was, because I waited in my car down the street. Over twenty minutes went by and no cab, no Liya. The last of the diner customers left, and the lights dimmed. A light drizzle sprinkled across the windshield.
Screw this. I didn’t know about her, but I didn’t have all night to wait around.
I marched into the diner. The bell above the door chimed, announcing my entrance, just as the waitress looked at me to say, “Sorry, we’re closed.”
“I know, Mary. I came for her.”
Liya groaned, “Didn’t you leave?”
“Where’s the cab?”
“They’re delayed.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
“No.”
I slipped my jacket around her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Mary needs to lock up the diner, and I’m not sitting outside any longer.”
“No one told you to wait for me!”
“But I’m waiting for you anyway.” I stretched my arm toward the door.
Liya hobbled at first, and I caught her when she almost tripped. She cringed every time she stepped on her left foot.
“Did you hurt your ankle?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Although she kept my jacket around her, she crossed her arms and stared down the street as if the cab would magically arrive any second. “The cab’s coming,” she stated.
Mary, after poking her head out to make sure we were good, locked the doors behind us and, inside, turned off the dining area lights. The drizzle turned into a light rain, and Liya shuddered as her hair dampened. Strands and clumps stuck to her forehead and cheeks.
I took her hand and she startled. “What now?”
I shot her my most stoic expression and brought her toward my car. This time, she did not argue. I opened the passenger-side door for her, and she slipped in. Between keeping my jacket on, straightening her skirt, and handling her purse and shoes, she was too occupied to get to the seat belt. So I did it for her, leaned down and across her, our faces so close that our body heat bounced off each other.
“What now?” she asked again.
I didn’t respond. The answer was obvious. It took everything inside me not to slam the door once I secured her seat belt. She couldn’t for a second be grateful, or at least keep quiet if she couldn’t say anything nice?
I walked to the other side, slipped into the car, and drove. I kept silent the entire time and didn’t ask her directions to her place. She told me. A left here. A right there. Two more lights. The building on the right with the metal balcony railings.
The mood in the car was far different than it had ever been between us. We usually bickered, one insult to meet the last, but this time I kept quiet. Which left her to be quiet. She simmered down and accepted my help.
I opened her door just as the rain increased, and helped Liya out, taking her purse and shoes so she could concentrate on walking on a bad ankle.
“Where?”
“I can walk to my door from here,” she insisted.
“Where?”
She sighed but replied, “Top floor, first on the right.”