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Claire had received no effective answer from Will beyond “It’s none of your business, kiddo,” so I kept my answer equally vague.
“We decided we’re better off just being friends.” I wanted to add, And hopefully, business partners. He was supposed to close up that night, but there was still no sign of him.
“Yeah. Right. Whatever,” Claire said, snapping her gum.
Just then Will walked into the kitchen, holding a box of plastic sleeves that would house our new menu cards. Though I still loved the sight of his face, I hated that even now he managed to take the air right out of my lungs.
“Sorry I’m late. Hot off the presses,” he said, pulling out a menu sleeve and handing it to me. I plucked the sleeve from his hand. It was still warm.
“They’re perfect,” I said, aware that our fingers had touched as he passed me the card. While I had to make an effort not to register a reaction to this casual connection, Will seemed utterly nonplussed.
“So is the new dishwasher still leaving spots?” Will asked Claire, pulling away from me.
“Yup,” Claire said.
“Damn. Between that and the new wiring, we’ll be in the red before we even open.”
This was it; this was my “in.” Now. Ask now.
“Will, I want to run something by you before I go.”
“And you,” he said to Claire, ignoring me. “Did you find out who left that shitty Facebook comment?”
Claire’s shoulders slumped.
“Ben told me it was Olivia,” she said. “But I talked to her and she said she didn’t.”
Will’s face reddened. He lifted a finger to her face. “I’m telling you, Claire, if anyone ever writes something like that again on your wall, I’m not going to be able to stay out of it, okay? I have to talk to their parent
s.”
“Yeah, Uncle Will, because every teenager wants angry adults to handle their problems, ’cause that fixes everything.” She rolled her eyes, jumped off the table and shuffled back into the dining room.
“What comment? What’s going on?”
Will exhaled long and loud. “Apparently, someone—she won’t tell me who—has been calling Claire names on her Facebook page. They’re getting posted through her friends’ accounts. Her friends say they’ve been hacked, or something. I don’t know how all that shit works. All I know is it’s upsetting her and it’s affecting her at school. She stayed home two times last week.”
“What are they calling her?”
“A slut, a whore, shit like that.”
I felt guilty suddenly for not pressing her when she brought it up. “That’s awful.”
“I know. Girls can be so horrible to each other,” he said, shaking his head in bafflement.
“Oh, well, you know. Men can suck too.” Zing. It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
A flash of hurt crossed Will’s face, but I changed the subject before that can of worms was reopened. This wasn’t the time.
“So, Will. I’m glad you’re here. Because … thing is … I want to discuss something with you. I have a proposition of sorts.”
“O-kay,” he said, crossing his arms, all business.
“Yeah. It’s about the restaurant’s name. I was wondering if—”
“We’ve been over this, Cassie. The name stays.”
“I know, Will. I’m aware of that. And you’re aware of my ambivalence about it.”
