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I couldn’t hide it. I couldn’t lie.
“Yes.”
I didn’t want to. Not anymore.
“I know him.”
Erik sighed and shook his head as he sank
back against my front counter. He was still catching his breath. Still rubbing at his eyes, which were growing red at the corners.
“Savannah…” he breathed. Slowly he closed his eyes in frustration. “What the fuck is going on?”
I sat down beside him, cradling his face. Hugging him tightly, and enjoying the feel of safety and security he provided.
“I’ll tell you,” I said softly, kissing his eyelids one by one.. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”
I surveyed the chaotic mess of my shop. The discarded satchel. The strewn clothes and broken glass.
“But not here.”
Fifty
ZANE
“I really am from Georgia,” she said, cradling the cup of tea we’d given her. “You got that part right. And Louden really is my ex-boyfriend. We dated off and on for a few years.”
She was sitting in the middle of our kitchen, safe and sound thanks to Erik. None of us liked the way she’d left last night. Since then, he’d taken it upon himself to keep an eye on her shop.
“I can’t believe you dated that fuckwad,” said Roman.
“I know.”
“I mean… the guy just reeks of smugness and bullshit.”
Savannah sighed wistfully. “I was young. Stupid and reckless.” She set down her tea and squinted up at us. “You sure you guys ran out of coffee?”
“Yeah, day before yesterday,” I told her.
“Barbaric.”
“Drink your tea and keep talking,” Erik prodded her. “You promised to tell us everything.”
I saw her shiver, and pull the blanket a little further over her shoulders. Then she grabbed the tea, if for no other reason than to cradle it for the heat.
“The second I got emancipated from the state, I started waitressing,” said Savannah. “I knew my way around the kitchen, because I was always good at serving. That was the one aspect of foster care that I actually liked — cooking for everyone at the houses I stayed at. I did that a lot.”
“Maybe you should’ve been a chef,” I offered.
Savannah threw me sideways smirk. “What, I’m not a good palm-reader?”
“Okay, touché.”
“Anyway, I was a waitress. I saved up for a while, and eventually got my own place. Still worked at the diner, though.”
Roman folded his arms. “And that’s where you met that shitbrick?”
She shook her head. “No, Louden came later. First came my shop. It took a few years to save up enough money, but I eventually opened something downtown. It was small. Modest. Nothing like the place I have now. But it was mine. And it got me off my feet and out of waitressing. Eventually, anyway.”
