Bitter End (15 page)

“You need to get out there,” she said. “Greg stayed late to cover until you got here. Get on the register. Lunch rush’ll be
starting soon.”

“Georgia, I’m really…”

She glanced up at me. “Later, okay? I need you on the register.”

I nodded and left her to her coupons.

Lunch rush started early—almost immediately after I relieved Greg, in fact—and I was swamped. Flustered, I kept making mistakes—pressing
the wrong buttons, forgetting to discount for coupons, giving out the wrong change and having to call for Georgia to come
open my drawer with a key so I could make it right—and twice I got an earful from angry customers.

The upside was I was too busy and too worried about making up my lousy performance to Georgia (whose mood certainly did not
improve with every mistake I made) to even think about Cole or Zack or Bethany.

After the rush was over, I felt a hand on my waist and heard Georgia’s voice in my ear, softer now, more like the Georgia
I was used to hearing.

“C’mon, let’s talk,” she said. Then, louder, toward the kitchen, “Jerry? Can you watch the register, please?”

I followed Georgia back to her office. She sat in her chair and I stood, my shoulder pressed against the doorway; the office
was too small for two chairs.

At first she didn’t say anything. Just bent down and opened the safe, tossed in an empty deposit bag, and closed the heavy
door. I thought maybe she was still mad, and, more than that, thought I would go crazy if she didn’t say something soon. Thought
I would run down the street screaming if one more person gave me the silent treatment.

But after she shut the safe, she leaned back, pushed her fingers up under her glasses to rub her eyes, and then looked at
me and smiled.

“Busy day,” she said. “Been like this all week. Here, let me fix you.”

She motioned for me to turn around and I did. Her chair squeaked, and then I felt the visor and rubber band being pulled out
of my hair. My hair fell against my back again, and then Georgia’s hands scooped it back up, deftly smoothing the sides and
top.

“You’re not yourself today, darlin’,” she said, her voice muffled around what I guessed to be either the visor strap or the
rubber band.

I shrugged. “I know. I had a really bad night last night. I’m sorry.”

My hair pulled against my scalp as she wound the rubber band in it. I winced but didn’t say anything.

“There,” she said. I turned around and she handed me the visor again and sat back in her chair. “Don’t worry about it,” she
said. “’Lot of them don’t even show up at all and still expect to come back to work the next day. Greg was late this morning,
too. He’s late almost every morning,
the lazy bum. You’re not planning on becoming a lazy bum, are you?”

I shook my head as I tugged on the visor and worked my ponytail over the elastic strap. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

She waved her hand at me. “Oh, honey, I was just kiddin’ ya. Everybody has a bad day. But listen. Dave’s been hanging around
a lot lately. I heard from Nan over at the Clancy Avenue store that he’s been on a rampage. Caught a manager stealing in the
downtown store and is convinced that we’re all out to get him now. Nan says he’s firing people left and right, for the tiniest
stuff, and that’s why old Granite-Ass’s been snoopin’ around so much.”

“Oh,” I said. “He would’ve fired me today.”

She nodded. “Maybe. And maybe me to go with you.”

I leaned back against the door. The last thing I needed was to lose my job. I still had only about half of the money I’d need
for Colorado, and that was if Bethany didn’t plan any more add-ons like RVs and stargazing at mountain chalets. Thinking about
Colorado gave me my usual pang of upset, and my fingers drifted to my necklace. But this time the upset wasn’t because I knew
I was getting closer every day to finally getting out there, but because of what had happened with Bethany the night before.
I doubted Cole’s outburst last night would have made her cancel the trip, but she was probably wondering if maybe I would
cancel it. We’d been in arguments before, and we always made up. I just hoped this time would be no different.

I should have called her this morning. Should’ve apologized right off the bat. I made a mental note to call her as soon as
my shift was over.

“Listen,” Georgia said, leaning forward. “I’m still gonna tell you the same thing I tell everyone. Lily starts school this
fall, and I don’t need to tell you that it’s gonna cost us a pretty penny to send her somewhere that can help her. Plus all
the special supplies and equipment. So I can’t afford to lose this job, and I need everybody’s help with that, okay? You help
me, I help you. You know I’m always going to bat for you guys.”

The bell above the dining room door jangled, and we both leaned to see who was coming in. It was just an older couple, and
Jerry seemed to have it under control. I could almost feel the tension radiating off Georgia as she leaned back into the office,
her chair squeaking under her again. She was really worried about this Dave thing.

I guess I couldn’t blame her. Georgia’s daughter, Lily, had been in some sort of accident when she was a baby, causing her
to have all sorts of physical problems and developmental delays. Georgia didn’t talk about Lily’s health much, and she brought
Lily to the store only on very rare occasions. She and her husband worked hard to get their daughter the best of everything,
but they didn’t have much money, and Georgia was constantly worried about her job.

I nodded. “I totally get it. No problem. It won’t happen again.”

Georgia stood and put her hand on my arm. “I know it
won’t,” she said, reaching over and patting my elbow. “You’re one of the few I can count on.” She put her hands on my shoulders
and spun me around, so I was facing out of the office. “Now get out there and get to work, you spoiled brat. You think the
front line’s gonna prep itself while you primp for a cotillion?”

I flicked her a salute. She had definitely forgiven me. All was back to normal.

I headed to the walk-in and grabbed a bag of lettuce, some tomatoes, and the pickle tub and stacked them high in my arms.
I liked doing prep. It was easy and I got to move around, rather than stand at the cash register, filling green tea order
after green tea order, not to mention I didn’t have to pick up dining room trash. And I always found the rhythm of slicing
vegetables to be soothing, sort of like listening to the radio.

The day stayed busy. Customers trickled in, a pretty constant stream. I kept having to abandon my prep work to ring someone
up, which resulted in a lot of plastic gloves going in the trash, and it was getting closer and closer to dinner rush with
the front line not prepped. That stressed Georgia out, so she abandoned paperwork in the office and came out to run the register
while I feverishly chopped and diced and filled tubs and refilled tubs.

I was chopping so diligently I didn’t even hear Cole’s voice. Georgia cleared her throat meaningfully, and I glanced up. She
had a warning look in her eyes. I knew what the look meant:
Don’t stand around chatting all day. We’ve got work to do
.

“Hey,” I said, turning to the counter and pressing my belly against it. I tried to smile, but it didn’t feel right on my face.
Suddenly I was so nervous. I still wanted to be mad at him for last night, but already last night seemed like a long time
ago. He smiled that soft smile that always brings out the little dimple on one side, but something about it seemed wary, as
if he knew he had some serious making up to do. And just the fact that he knew he was in the wrong and was going to make up
for it made it easier to forgive him.

“Hey yourself,” he said. Georgia handed him a coffee and he held it up. “Thirsty.” Georgia took his money and handed him his
change without a word, then flicked a sideways look at me again. I could almost hear her thoughts:
Think of Lily!

Cole moved a couple of steps down the counter and stood right in front of me. I could smell his cologne. The smell made my
hands shake, even though I wanted to stay mad at him.

“I can’t talk,” I whispered, not looking up. “I’ve got to get this done.”

“I know,” he said. “I was just going to chill until you got off.”

I glanced at the clock behind me. “I don’t get off till five.” I continued chopping.

“I’ll wait,” he said.

“You’re going to wait for two hours?” As if he hadn’t already done that a hundred times before, but I was trying my best to
seem irritated.

Suddenly I felt his hand touch my cheek. I looked up. He was stretched across the counter, gazing directly into my eyes. His
hand caressed my cheek so softly I might have passed out right there on the floor.

“I’d wait for you forever if that’s what it took,” he said.

Despite myself, I smiled. Something about his touch was so much more real than the strange things he’d said and done last
night. And I couldn’t help it. I loved him.

Then Georgia’s voice rang out from the office—“Alex, you get the eggs chopped yet?”—and just like that the spell was broken.

I went back to my prep work, but I was completely distracted and frazzled again. I kept glancing up at the dining room, and
every time I did, Cole was looking right at me, leaning back in his chair, holding his drink in one hand. I felt a shot of
electricity surge through me every time we connected, and it was like my brain kept getting short-circuited. I’d look back
down at whatever I was doing, and it would all look so foreign to me. Had I really been slicing cucumbers? I didn’t remember
that.

Everybody has a bad day
, Georgia had said. Everybody. Even Cole. Maybe that’s all last night was—Cole’s bad day. Colossally bad, but forgivable.

I spent so much time looking up, I wasn’t caught by surprise when Bethany walked in.

She walked up to the counter, and I could see Georgia’s shoulders slump after a second of talking in a low voice.

“Alex,” she said. “Your friend needs to talk to you.” She pursed her lips and then mouthed,
Make it quick.

Unlike with Cole, when I saw Bethany my feelings weren’t in the least mixed. I felt only one thing: guilt. So much so, in
fact, that my feet didn’t even want to walk toward her. My best friend for my whole life, and I was afraid to talk to her.
I didn’t know what to say.

“Hi,” I said.

She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t even really looking at me. Instead, her gaze fell on the countertop, somewhere around my hands.
She pushed her glasses up. “When do you get off?” she asked.

“Five,” I said.

“We’d like to talk to you,” she said, sounding weirdly formal. “Zack and I. Can you come over?”

“Listen, about last night…” I said, but stopped short when her face snapped up to meet mine. Her eyes still looked really
red.

“I don’t want to talk about it here,” she said. “I know he’s sitting right over there, and I don’t want to start anything.
The thing is… well, the thing is, we need to talk. At Zack’s. Will you come?”

I looked over her shoulder at Cole, whose face had gotten a very lined, flat look to it. He wasn’t looking at me but seemed
instead to be willing her to turn around and face him. I hesitated. Suddenly the silent treatment I’d been getting all day
wasn’t looking so bad. Everyone wanting to talk all of a sudden seemed way worse.

“Will you?” she prodded, snapping my attention back to her.

I took a deep breath. Basically there was no way I could win in this situation. I nodded. “I’ll be home by six,” I said. I
didn’t look back at Cole. But I didn’t need to. I could feel him watching anyway.

Even though Georgia had lightened up on me, by the time I got off, the dinner rush was really getting rolling, and her tension
had made everyone grumpy. I’d found myself wishing that Granite-Ass would just show up and declare everything okay and put
her out of her misery. Really, Georgia was an awesome manager, and she was as honest as the day is long. Dave had nothing
to worry about with a store that she ran. I wished she could see that, too.

I was glad to get out of there. And glad I didn’t have to work again for a few days. Maybe Dave would calm down and Georgia
would be her old self again.

I stepped out into the dining room, where Cole was still sitting. He stood when I came in, and walked over toward me.

“My car’s out back,” he said. “Next to yours.”

He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me
through the doors. I took off my visor as we walked, and pulled the rubber band, which kept snagging random hairs at the base
of my neck, out of my hair.

“You’re not really supposed to park back here,” I said. “It’s employee parking.”

Cole made a gruff sound in his throat. “And how would anyone know I’m not an employee?”

“Well,” I said, “I know.”

But Cole didn’t seem to care much about where he was parked. He coolly reached over and opened the passenger door.

“Something tells me you’ll overlook my little infraction,” he said, grabbing my belt loops with his fingers and pulling me
toward him. “Don’t write me a ticket, Officer Alex,” he fake-whimpered. He kissed me on the forehead.

I smiled and leaned into him. He felt so good. Warm. Relaxed. Comfortable. And despite last night, he still felt… safe. If
I closed my eyes and breathed him in, I could almost make myself believe that nothing had ever happened last night.

I tilted my face up to his, and he used his finger to push up one corner of my mouth and then the other. I rolled my eyes,
but the smile stayed. He leaned down and kissed each corner of my mouth and then my nose and each eye. By the time he pulled
me in closer to him, my eyes were closed and I was breathing in his scent and feeling the muscles of his arms around me, and
suddenly I couldn’t remember how I’d been so mad at him. The anger was just gone.

He took a step to the side and I slid into the car. He shut the door, walked around, and got in the driver’s side. The seat
made a leathery groan underneath him, and a whiff of leather puffed into the air, reminding me of our first date and giving
me butterflies.