Not getting into the middle of it, my ass.
“You’re a dirty liar, Mother.”
Chapter Seven
RONIN
Tip #1: If you find yourself in love with your best friend, take it from me—have patience. Coming on too strong might have them running. Believe me.
Amelia Baker stormed into my life sixteen years ago in a whirlwind of teenage angst. The prettiest girl I had ever metandshe was into the same nerdy shit as me? I was smitten from the very start. From that day on, I was both blissfully happy…and absolutely miserable. I was in love with my best friend, and the feeling was most certainlynotmutual. As Mel and her mother approach the diner counter, her scowling face is a harsh reminder that I ruined years of friendship after confessing those feelings one too many times.
I’m determined to make it right. I just need to figure out how.
“Ronin, dear! Good morning,” Mrs. Baker greets warmly, reaching a hand out to pat my arm. Mellie’s scowl deepens at theinteraction.
My heart twists, but I give them my best grin. “Good morning, Mrs. Baker.” I meet Mel’s gaze, letting a smirk play across my mouth. “Good morning, Mellie. Sleep well?”
The scene of Evan practically carrying her out of the bar last night flashes before my eyes, and I have to stifle a laugh. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Mellie that drunk. Not that I’ve seen any of her in years.
Mel’s features soften from the scowl twisting her lips, her mouth melting in a smirk of her own. “Like a baby,” she drawls, focusing on the menu board behind me. “May I please have a gingerbread latte? And whatever Mom is having.” She steps off to the side to let her mother order, pulling her wallet out of her bag.
Gingerbread latte… That’s a new one for her. Must be this new California version of Mellie who I don’t know anymore.
I busy myself with making their drinks, my mind racing. Mel and I used to know each other inside and out. Every flaw, every passion we had. It was like we were completely in sync. Seeing her here, a stranger to me, Ihateit. It feels alien in its wrongness.
After finishing up their coffees with a flourish that is definitely unnecessary, I turn to place them on the counter. Mel’s stare bores into me, her amber irises flaring before she flits them away, her cheeks pinking ever so slightly. I clear my throat, feeling off balance but needing desperately to be back in control.
“It’s on the house, for my two favorite Bakers.” I run my hands through my hair, which is long enough to constantly fall in my face these days. I tuck a loose strand behind an ear.
“Thank you, Ronin. You didn’t have to do that.” Mrs. Baker gives me a knowing smile as she takes her coffee cup.
My heart stutters at the intense expression on Mellie’s face. Her eyes are focused on my fingers where they rest on the countertop, and my hands fist in reflex.
Silence hangs in the air for a brief, awkward moment. Mrs. Baker clears her throat, and Mellie startles as she returns from wherever her mind had just wandered. I stare back, waiting.
“Oh. Sorry, how much?” Mel digs through her wallet for some loose change.
“I said it’s on the house this time, Mel.” I can’t help but chuckle.
Her face flares and she nods before grabbing her coffee and pulling hard on her mother’s arm.
“Bye, Ronin!” Mrs. Baker calls out as she’s yanked toward the door. “Thanks for the coffee, dear!”
“Anytime, Mrs. Baker.” My voice trails after them as Mellie and her mother are swept up into the bustling Main Street crowds.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That went…okay. Could have gone better, but at least she isn’t scowling at me anymore. I’ll take my small wins.
Holiday season means lunch and dinner rushes almost daily, so I head into the kitchen to check on lunch prep and help where I’m needed.
Time slips by, and before I know it, we’re slammed with customers. It seems as if everyone in Blue Fields is here, weighed down with shopping bags. I glance outside toward the crowded sidewalks for what feels like the hundredth time since seeing Mellie earlier, and I can’t help wishing I will catch a glimpse of her each time.
“You got a hot date tonight or what?” William, the owner, grumbles from behind the counter, wiping a glass with a towel before placing it on the rack underneath the bar. “You’ve been distracted all morning, Ro.”
“Does anyone ever actually have ahot datewhen someone asks that?” I retort. I’m serving and busing tables, and I push my way through the swinging doors into the kitchen with a bin of dirty dishes. After placing them by the sink for the dishwasher to take care of, I spin around and grab the two plates waiting for me underneath the food warmer. Burger and fries, and a chicken finger platter—table two. The door swings closed behind me as I re-enter the dining area, making my way across the room to deliver the gueststheir meals.
As I come back to the bar, William picks the conversation back up with, “I heard Mellie is back in town. This wouldn’t have anything to do with her, would it?” He eyes me over the top of his glasses which are precariously perched on the edge of his nose.
I lean onto the countertop, pulling away when I realize how sticky it is. Will hands me a clean rag from behind the bar.
