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Trace shook his head at me. “That is the most spoiled dog ever.”
“He deserves to be spoiled,” I laughed, passing by Trace, and making my way down the staircase to the parking lot.
“How was work?” He asked, starting the old Camaro.
“It was great. Marcy is so awesome,” I gushed. After three weeks of working at Marcy’s store, I had yet to run into a hiccup. The customers were great and Marcy was the best boss ever.
“See, you had nothing to worry about,” he grinned, his eyes a light shade of green today, which meant he was in a happy carefree mood.
“Do you want me to admit that you were right?” I laughed.
“Just one teeny tiny, ‘Trace you were right,’ would be awesome,” he held up his fingers a centimeter apart.
“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “Trace, you were right.”
“Those words warm my heart,” he grinned with a hand over his heart.
“Look at the road,” I warned.
“You worry too much,” he mumbled, but his eyes strayed back to the road ahead.
He hadn’t driven far when he turned into a parking garage. We got out of the car and I followed him around the side of a painted stone building to a gate. He pushed the gate open and I spotted Avery and Luca seated at one of tables with a yellow umbrella.
I saw a band setting up on a stage in the far corner of the outdoor patio.
“Another thing you can cross off,” Trace whispered in my ear with a steady hand on my back as he guided me to the table.
I shook my head in amazement.
Trace and I, met by chance, and something made me show him my list, but somewhere along the way, my list stopped mattering to me. It became, not so much about accomplishing these things, but about living in the moment and just…being happy. As simple as that may sound, it’s true. Happiness is everything.
Trace pulled out a chair for me to sit down and then scooted me into the table.
“Have y’all already ordered?” Trace asked the other two.
“Nah, we were waiting for you guys to get here,” Luca replied, slouching in his chair with an arm thrown casually across the back of Avery’s. He was in one of his vests, again, with no shirt underneath. Quite a few girls kept eyeing his impressive arms, trying to get a peek at what the vest was hiding.
“I already know what I want,” Trace pushed his menu aside. “Luca and I come here all the time,” he explained.
The restaurant’s name, Piccadilly’s, was scrawled across the top of the menu in a swirly font. I perused the different items, settling on the club sandwich. It was a hot evening so I wasn’t in the mood for warm food.
A waitress appeared with her pen already poised against her notepad. She appeared frazzled with all the tables and I felt bad for her. I knew I could never be a waitress. I’d never be able to carry those heavy trays of food and walk at the same time. She was dressed casually for the summer heat, in a pink polo shirt, and kaki shorts.
“Have y’all decided?” She asked.
We all nodded and rattled off our orders.
“Great,” she smiled as she took the menus, “I’ll get that in and I’ll get your drinks right out to you,” she pointed to Trace and me.
We had only been outside, for maybe five minutes, and I already felt sweat beading on my skin. My dress began to stick to my body from perspiration.
The umbrella, although it provided shade, did little to squelch the heat. I prayed for a breeze as I fanned myself with a hand.
The waitress returned with our drinks as the band started to play. They were only a local band but they were pretty good. I recognized the first song as an old beach song.
I slurped greedily at my sweet tea, and soon the glass was empty, but I was still thirsty. I should have been smart and ordered water. In this heat, sweet tea did little to quench my thirst.
“I know it may not be the concert you were hoping for, in a big stadium, but I thought this would suffice,” Trace leaned over to whisper in my ear so that Avery and Luca didn’t hear.
