“Fine. No, I didn’t have an ice pack; I just ran it under cool water for a bit.”
“You’ll take one home today from the freezer out back.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“What if James falls and needs it?”
I sigh. She knows exactly what button of mine to press.
“Rochelle…” I start to dispute, not wanting to be that girl, always taking and never giving.
“And you’ve almost worked an entire hour over today, so I’ll add that to your weekly.”
When I open my mouth to push back on that, too, she cuts me off.
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Nikki. You’re my best waitress. Here every day. Work every minute allocated. I’m grateful to have you.”
“Rochelle, that’s my job.” I’ve always had a strong work ethic, that’s why I did so well at school. My study schedule was rigorous. A lot of good that’s done me so far. I could’ve walked straight from college into a well-paying job on the East Coast, but my last name carries weight, and with a few calls from my father’s office, I was booted from every job I ever applied for. Including working at a small café. It was hopeless. Dad wanted me to take over his legacy and was doing anything he could to get me to work in the business, blind to the fact that it isn’t what I want.
He drills for oil, and I believe in climate change. He has no issues with destroying people’s homes, communities, or the animal habitat to buy a parcel of land to excavate. Whereas I want to have a sustainable life and leave no footprint. He’ll do anything to get his hands on that liquid gold, and I prefer to leave nature alone and bask in her elements. So while I could’ve been well on my way to an amazing career, my father put a stop to it. He couldn’t have his daughter rising through the ranks as a successful environmental engineer with a passion for climate change, while he was digging up the ground, making a mess of everything. It would’ve made headline news; it would’ve had his shareholders nervous.
“Well, think of it all as a bonus for good work, then.” And with that, Rochelle walks to the kitchen to get the ice pack and my paycheck. I’m also the only waitress who asks for cash payment, something that she doesn’t mind offering. With my bank accounts almost empty and me not wanting to identify myself to open another one, I use cash for everything.
As she pushes through the double doors, I wipe down the counter, putting away what little needs to be done. My feet ache. My face throbs. But none of it keeps my eyes from drifting to the booth at the back, to Sutton.
The way he held my cheek earlier, the way he looked into my eyes, ready to burn the world down for my bruises left me a little speechless. I’ve never had that before. Someone who had my back. Someone who was angry for me, someone who cares. But I need to stay away from him. I can’t entertain getting close to anyone; it’s just not right. James and I hope to stay here in Whispers, but if things change, then we need to be on the move. So no friendships, no quiet conversations, no misplaced trust. And James, he shouldn’t get close either.
But then I see James smile again, pulling Sutton’s attention, the two of them bent over a book on Benjamin Franklin. Sutton listens, nodding, helping him with something he doesn’t understand.
And just like that, I know.
Whatever this is, whatever’s going on, it’s already too late. Because Sutton Silvers is starting to infiltrate my thoughts, and those thoughts are not just of friendship.
8
Sutton
My ass is sore from sitting here for so damn long. I got here hours ago. But I’m not leaving until she does.
“It says here he had a pet mouse that he trained to do tricks…” James’ face scrunches in thought. He’s a smart kid. Puts me to shame. I was never studious, all those brain cells went to my brother. Me, I’m creative and think off the cuff. I like movies and music, not textbooks or literature.
“So… your dad around?” I wince at my poor attempt at finding out more about his mom.
“No.” He doesn’t seem too upset about that fact, so I continue.
“I didn’t grow up with a dad either,” I admit, trying to connect with him.
“Was your dad angry all the time too?” His eyebrows rise expectantly, and I frown.
“I didn't really know him. My mom looked after me, though. She was the best.” I love my mom. I wish I could see her more, but in the current climate, her retirement village is being harassed by paparazzi too. Leaving me no choice but to stay away for the time being. But I have a security team keeping her and her retirement friends safe, and I have plans to bring her here to Whispers when I can. Although now, any move she makes, she’ll be followed, so I need to be careful.
“Nikki looks after me too.”
I tilt my head. I know kids these days are more relaxed, not as formal with how they address their parents, but I’m surprised he calls his mom by her first name.
“How do you like school?”
He shrugs. “Eh. It’s fine.”
