SCOUT
“Why areyou trying to ruin this for me?” I sighed, wiping down a table that had just been bussed.
“I’m not!” Deanna protested with a smile plastered on her face. “It’s just… tell me I’m wrong.” She put her hand on her hip and stared at me from across the room where she was mopping. “He’s got money. He’s Italian, you know, because of the weird name. Then he did his friend a favor?” She put up air quotes with her fingers. “What favor?”
“I don’t know, maybe he got him a private viewing at the theater or something. You always do this.” My shift was almost over, and I was exhausted. “You get these crazy ideas and then ruin things for me.”
“When was the last time?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” I laughed. “Maybe when you were convinced Prince had come in wearing a disguise.”
“It looked just like him!”
“It was a woman with a mustache!”
“Okay, but all the purple? Come on, that was an easy mistake.”
“Not for everyone else in the restaurant,” I reminded her.
“Fine, whatever, but I’m not wrong with this one. I know that gallery. It’s a front. That’s why it’s only open at night.”
“Or it’s just upscale,” I suggested. “Who knows what rich people do.”
“Rich people in the mafia.” She wagged her finger in the air. “Mark my words.” She put her hands up in innocence. “Do what you want. He is extremely good-looking, but I think he’s too good to be true.”
Desi did feel like a dream. He was perfect, in every way. Well, except for being late all the time.
“If it will make you happy, I’ll ask him about the favor,” I offered.
“Hey, it’s not me I’m worried about. Just be careful. He’s hiding something.”
I thanked her, even though I didn’t mean it. Then, I glanced at my watch and saw I could clock out. I hurried to change and get moving. I wanted to take a hot shower and relax in bed. As I was stepping off the steps of the diner and pushing play on my Walkman, I thought about the conversation with Deanna again. It was absurd. Desi, in the mafia? Never. He was too adorable to be a criminal. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Or would he?
I brushed those thoughts away and focused on The Gap Band singing “You Dropped a Bomb on Me”. I gripped the straps of my backpack and started home.
Maybe once Luis moved in, I could start saving for another bike. And two chains with locks this time, instead of just the one. Riding a bike saved me half an hour each way every day. And my poor feet.
I tossed and turned in bed and woke up at ten-ish, still tired. There wasn’t enough coffee to revitalize me this morning. Still, I drudged to the kitchen to brew a pot to try. I was sitting at my table, sipping my coffee, when there was a knock on my door. I went to it, still dressed in an oversized teal shirt and cotton shorts. My hair was a mess of curls and I hadn’t done my face yet, but I was too tired to care about who was on the other side. I opened the door and immediately regretted my previous opinion on my appearance. Desi was on the other side with a brown cardboard box under his arm.
“Hey! You look tired.”
I ground the sleep from my eyes. “Little bit. Long night at work. What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping back to let him in. I tugged at my clothes but sighed. It was too late. He had already seen me looking rough.And he still came in.
“Well, that was kind of what I was here about. Work. It sucks, doesn’t it?” He went straight to my kitchen. “It smells good in here.”
“You want a cup? I don’t have any sugar or cream.” I prayed he wouldn’t take liberties and look inside my empty fridge.
“Sure, black is fine.” He set the box on the table. “I got you something.”
“You got me something? Why?” I poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the table for him.
“Well, I tried to call you last night, and it just rang and rang.”
“That’s what it does when no one is home to answer it.”
“Yeah, but with our schedules, that sucks. I want to be able to talk to you whenever.”
“About what?” I said as he pulled out packing peanuts.
