Charlie
The lockon the front door sticks, but with a jiggle or two, I have it bolted in place and turn off the neon open sign. We’ve actually been closed for half an hour. Maybe I was hoping stragglers would pop in and we’d have to stay open late tonight. But no such luck.
I grab the last bag of garbage from the can up front as a black SUV with tinted windows pulls up to the curb outside the shop. My fingers lose their grip and the bag drops, spilling some of the contents across the floor.
“I’ll get it.” Joey hurries over to me. “I have to mop up here anyway.” He bends down and starts shoving the wrappers into the bag. Joey’s handsome, in his mid-twenties; shouldn’t he be getting ready for a date or something instead of picking up the trash I dropped?
“I can do it. Why don’t you take off? I’m sure you have better things to do.” I reach for the bag, but he shakes his head.
“Naw, Susan’s out of town for work. It’s just me and our cat until then.” He pauses and looks up at me. “And I hate that damn cat.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“I didn’t realize you had a roommate.”
“Fiancée,” he corrects me as he moves back to his feet and ties the bag.
“Oh.” I blink. “How did I not know that?” Because I’ve been more worried about getting the sandwich shop moving in the right direction, so my father’s dream doesn’t die with him, while trying to keep Oliver from getting himself killed.
“When she gets back in town, I’ll have her come by so you guys can meet her.” He shifts his gaze to the front windows. “Is that car going to just sit there? The dry cleaners closed an hour ago and the insurance office is closed for renovations.” In our little strip of businesses, we’re the only ones still around. Making it a little too easy for men to show up and cause trouble without witnesses.
“It’s fine,” I smile. “It’s… the car’s for me.” Even saying the words out loud makes my stomach ache.
“What car is for you?” Mark, one of my father’s oldest friends stands up from the booth in the back corner. He stops in every week for an Italian hero. He likes to catch up and hang out while we clean the shop. I think it’s his way of looking out for me now that Dad’s gone, so I don’t chase him out. The staff has gotten to know him pretty well over the last year.
“I think she has a date,” Joey quips with a wink. “I’m gonna take this out back and get the mop.”
“A date?” Mark looks out the window with his brows pulled down. “What sort of man doesn’t come to the door for you?” The protectiveness from my high school years immediately comes back to him as naturally as breathing. He sounds just like my dad.
“He’s not here, Mark,” I say, thinking that will somehow soothe him. “I’m meeting him, but I don’t have my car, so he sent one for me.” Am I really trying to defend this man?
“He should come himself.” He points a finger in the air. “A good man comes to the door; he doesn’t send some car like he’s having his dinner picked up.”
Isn’t that sort of what he’s doing though?
I force a laugh. “You’re being old-fashioned. And it’s not adatedate, just meeting for a drink.” Why does this sound worse when I say it?
“You’re going dressed like that?” He changes his attention to the jeans and the red collared t-shirt with the deli logo on it.
“I know.” I run my hands over my hips. “Not my best. I should cancel.”
“Cancel?” He shakes his head. “No. You go, have fun. You deserve some relaxing time. But if this guy doesn’t come pick you up next time, get rid of him.” He looks at Joey. “Finish up. We’ll go play poker at my place and order a pizza.”
“Didn’t you just eat an entire hero?” Joey raises his eyebrows.
“It’s this new medication the doc gave me. I’m an empty pit lately,” Mark explains.
“I can still help close up.” I need more time to get my brain to grasp what’s happening.
“No. You go.” Mark points his finger at me. “Have fun.”
“Go on, Charlie. I got this.” Joey hands me my purse he’s grabbed from the back office on his way to the front door to unbolt it. “Have a good night.”
Okay. I can do this. I can. I just need to get my feet moving first.
When I step outside the shop, the driver gets out of the SUV and jogs around the front until he gets to the back door. He pulls the door open.
“Thanks,” I mutter and climb inside. The leather seats are cool from the air conditioning in the car. Through the tinted windows, I watch Mark and Joey laughing and working together in the sandwich shop while the car dips beneath the driver’s weight when he climbs inside.