Chapter 4
Cade
Work was riveting, if your idea of riveting was cleaning up after people like livestock. Seriously, it floored me how much food people wasted. Equally alarming was how much money they paid to throw out half the food.
That could be me being grouchy.
I’d shown up late, but lucky for me it hadn’t mattered too much. I mean, other than the fact that Devlin had steam coming out of his ears. I didn’t let him rile me. I’d been through more difficult struggles in my past than Devlin being pissy.
It was pretty slow tonight, likely because this was the first really nice day in a while. Nice weather in Ridgeway reminded everyone it was time to leave the house. That was probably the origination of my grouchiness. All I’d been able to think about was how I’d rather be under my car in the open-air garage than here in this dimly lit building.
I dumped a bus tub of dirty dishes off at the dish tank and turned the corner to walk to the back. As I did, the degenerate criminal line cook I was coming to hate with every fiber of my being called out, “Hey! Chatterbox!”
Fuck. Here we go.
My shoulders tightened along with my jaw. I couldn’t stand that guy. He thought he was funny, as evidenced by his braying like a jackass at his own quip. I’d ignored his shouts all day. He’d taken to calling me Dopey and Mute, then devolved to Chatty and now Chatterbox. I was trying to keep my head down and stay out of trouble, but he wasn’t making it easy for me.
Back out in the dining room, I occupied myself by collecting empty wineglasses and a bottle when someone called, “Cade?”
I turned to find one of my buddies, Miller, who’d been frequenting Oak & Sage lately. He was having dinner with a petite brunette. Girlfriend, maybe? I didn’t realize he was seeing anyone, which shows how out of touch we’d fallen. She gave me a demure smile. I straightened, moving the wineglasses and bottle to the same hand so I could shake Miller’s.
“Hey, man.” He stood from the table and we faced each other awkwardly.
I’d left school abruptly. Busy with physical therapy and relearning how to chew food made college a trying task. Since I didn’t go back, I hadn’t seen much of anyone. My friends didn’t exactly ditch me. We just didn’t have much in common any longer, since we weren’t studying and crashing campus parties together.
“I’ve been wondering how you were, man. Spotted you the other day, but you ducked into the back.” Miller was a nice guy. My height, with short hair and glasses, he looked the part of an attorney-at-law already. I had seen him that day too, but I ran like a pussy when I saw him and our friends here. To avoid this very conversation.
“How are things?” he asked.
I nodded, then figured he’d think I was an asshole if I didn’t speak.
“G-good.” I tried to smile to cover the glitch but it was a grimace instead. “You?”
“We, uh, we’re doing well.” He palmed the back of his neck like he was nervous. Which made the hair on the back of my own neck stand on end. Miller wasn’t the most direct one of our friends, and I could tell something weighed on his conscience. We always said of our future firm that Miller would be the pro bono guy. He’d be good with charity cases. “We’ve, uh”—he cleared his throat—“we’ve decided to go ahead with our plans for the building downtown.”
I felt the color drain from my face and the room seemed to cant to one side. He wasn’t looking at me when he started speaking again.
“Brian secured a lease. We had to. Rumor had it another business was about to snatch it. I know we’re a ways off from starting the firm, but we couldn’t let it be leased by another lawyer or something worse. Like an accountant.” He was poking fun at my dad, and made a horrified face that was supposed to make me laugh. I didn’t feel like laughing. Puking, maybe.
Our building.The one next to a boutique with jewelry in the window and on the other side, a sushi restaurant. Claire Street. I’d found that location. I felt my ears turn red as a mix of anger and shock washed through my bloodstream.
Miller hazarded a gaze up at me, and despite his being the messenger, I shot darts out of my eyes. They’d moved on. Without me. All of them.
“Sorry, man. We didn’t think you were coming back to school. We’re graduating in June. Brian’s application into law school was already accepted.” He shrugged like he didn’t know what else to say. I could relate. I didn’t know what to say, even if I could have fucking said it.
“Cade. Table fifteen!” Chet, the floor manager, called to me. Having a dorky guy put me to task—especially when the task was collecting dirty dishes—was the perfect topper to this shitty conversation. Miller, standing in his dress pants and button-down, was having a two-hundred-dollar dinner with his girlfriend, while I was wore a dirty apron, my fingers looped around the evidence of another couple’s evening of fine dining.
“Cade!”
I turned and lifted my chin at Chet to let him know I heard him. He tapped his wrist like he was wearing a watch to let me know I wasn’t allowed to stand here and socialize. The prick.
“I’ll let you work,” Miller said. I would have felt bad for him if I wasn’t so busy feeling bad for myself.
“Nice to meet you,” his girlfriend chimed. I gave her a tight smile and a nod before I turned and stalked to the kitchen.
I dumped the bottle and gingerly placed the wineglasses in the dish rack. I was about to go out to table fifteen and clear it when the line cook—who had no idea how awful his timing was—decided to run me down again.
“Hey, old Dopey’s back, guys.”