“You have two jobs.”
She waved me away. “I don’t count. I like both my jobs.”
“I love my job here.”
“No. You are very competent at your job and I appreciate that. But this isn’t your passion. I see you ripping pages out of the magazines left in the book nook.”
I flushed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care. I’m aware that people in town just like to dump their magazines on me from their kids’ school magazine drives. But I see your brain spinning, and then you’re off stealing my tape dispenser to play collage with your idea book.”
I winced.
She pulled out a little Moleskine notebook from her back pocket. “I have one too.” She shoved it back in her pocket. “It’s in code, so don’t think you can steal my secrets.”
A laugh burst out of me. “I would never.”
“Take a chance on the hot artist. And if you still aren’t into him then shake him loose. I have a bat under the counter if you need it.” She straightened her shoulders. “Now give me your apron, and get out of here.”
“I still have another hour.”
“Go. If you want to go upstairs to get cleaned up, I’ll make sure Dani keeps him occupied.”
I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. Handily, my apartment was above the café. I’d managed to snag one of the few one-bedrooms when Rylee moved in with her husband.
“Go on. Be a girl for once. I won’t hold it against you.”
“Maybe dinner would be okay.” I untied my apron and handed it to her.
She crumpled it in her hand, and then pointed at me. “And not at the diner. Come on, Vanilla, live a little.”
“Never thought you’d be a matchmaker.”
“Don’t tell Vee, or I’ll break your kneecap.”
“There’s the Macy I know and love.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She pushed open the door then paused. “Go through the back. Knock his socks off.”
I played with the thin gold band on my thumb. If I was going to be stupid, I should at least go all in. “Think Dani can keep him busy for an hour?”
“Can do.”
I sneaked out the back door near the Dumpster and hurried down the alleyway to the side entrance to the apartments. The brisk winter air was like a slap. I was definitely making a mistake. Then again, dinner was a small price to pay to get back my notebook and my scarf.
I’d get a steak out of him, at least.
With a side of hot kisses…
No. Just a steak.
Probably.
Five
I folded my arms and faced off with the kid in front of me. We were sketch battling in comic style—not my best medium, but I’d been a teenage boy long enough to have secret dreams of drawing Batman like most guys.
Dani flipped her pad around toward me. My eyebrows shot up. The kid was good. “How old are you?” I asked.