Reid is gone.
Again.
I’m alone.
Again.
Brynn is busy traveling all over the country taking pictures of beautiful people and fantastic things. School is kicking my ass. And work is… work. Kylie found another job, leaving me to try to make friends with the other night-shift waitresses. My busy schedule keeps me from lying in bed wishing there was a warm body next to mine every night. By the time I get home at the end of the day, I’m usually too tired to notice.
That’s a lie.
I always notice. I always feel the void, no matter how tired I am.
Jaxon ditches the classic Italian radio we listen to during business hours for something a little more upbeat after closing, while I dance with my sweeper and sing like nobody’s listening. Sometimes I catch Jaxon videoing me on his phone, so I run around the bar and wrestle it away from him. He laughs and promises to always delete them, even though I’m pretty sure he never does. It’s always easy with Jaxon, fun.
Well… easy once we got past the awkward almost-kiss incident at the Christmas party Carlos decided to throw last year. I’d just finished thanking him for my Secret Santa gift—which happened to be an entire spa day and way over the twenty-five-dollar budget Carlos set. Mani, pedi, massage, facial—the whole kit and caboodle. He claimed it wasn’t him, but I’m not close with anyone else at work, so I immediately called bullshit. He leaned in for a kiss. I palmed his face then politely told him we would never speak of it again. So far, we haven’t. He took the next two days after that off work though, which was a little overkill for a simple rejection, but who am I to judge.
Now we’re back to where we began, as friends, and by March, I’ve fallen into a routine that almost seems normal. I don’t know whether to be concerned or relieved by that. Reid has developed a bit of a pattern with his Skypes. I can expect him on Mondays or Thursdays every single week. So, it’s completely understandable when over three weeks go by, and I am one hundred percent panicking over the fact that I haven’t heard from him at all.
It’s a Thursday night, and I’ve just closed out my section. Jaxon switches out the music, but I don’t even try to dance.
“Everything okay? You seem a little distracted lately,” he says when I approach him for my tips.
Let’s see… My boyfriend hasn’t called me in almost a month. I can’t check on him, because I’m not allowed to know where he is. I sit at home when I get off work, curled in the corner of my sofa, letting my eyes shift between the front door and my computer screen. I don’t eat. I can’t sleep. Because I’m terrified—terrified that another night will go by when he doesn’t call and terrified that a man in uniform could knock on that door any second to give me the worst news of my life. Distracted is an understatement.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
He pulls out an envelope with my name on it. Every night, our tips are calculated at the end of our shift and distributed as cash, then put into an envelope and handed to us. This way, no one knows how much any other person makes. It’s all part of the many secrets under this roof, but I don’t mind.
“You should take the weekend off.” He smiles, and it’s almost comforting. “Relax. Enjoy life. I’ll get someone to cover your shifts.”
Enjoy life.
My ‘life’ is lying on his stomach at the top of a hill, halfway across the world, pointing his rifle at men whose sole purpose is to make sure he doesn’t make it home.
“He’s right, you know.” I hear Carlos’s deep voice as he comes around the corner. He places a hand on my shoulder and meets my gaze. “You’re here nearly every night.” His eyes twinkle, a rare thing. “And as much as I love seeing that beautiful face of yours walk through the door, you need a break.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Suppato, but—”
He holds up a long finger and his eyes grow dark. He’s back to the man I’m used to seeing, the man we all respect and maybe even fear a little bit. “It’s not optional. I’ll see you back here on Monday.”
There’s nothing I can do but smile and nod. I have a feeling not many people get away with arguing with Carlos Suppato.
Except for the tall guy with the hypnotizing eyes.
I tell Jaxon goodnight, then turn for the door. I’m still within hearing distance when Carlos speaks again. Only this time, he isn’t speaking to me.
“Two drinks. One for me and one for Cal.”
Cal.
I know that name.
Cal is the man I know nothing about but feel like I’ve known my whole life. He’s the man who paralyzes me with a simple look and sends my blood rushing through my veins every time he’s anywhere close.
If Carlos is asking Jaxon to make him a drink, then he must be here.
I don’t know what overcomes me—curiosity or stupidity—but I spin around and let the words spill from my lips before I have a chance to stop them.