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I assume her question is rhetorical, and I need to tear my eyes away from her smile. So I glance at her purse, taking up half the table. “You know they have hooks under the table where you can hang your bag.”
Tess shrugs. “Why would I do that?”
“So we have room for our plates.”
“Oh.” She winces and glances around. “I thought we were just grabbing a coffee before heading to the ranch.”
“Sure. That’s cool. No problem.” I’m playing it low key. “I just figured I’d treat you to a muffin,” I say. “Or a scone. Or some kind of pastry. I want to thank you for finding me another source of income.”
“I’m not sure talking you into athirdjob deserves a thank you muffin.” She crinkles her nose, and a crease forms along a row of tiny freckles. She’s managing to look cute, even when she’s confused by me. Story of my life. “But at least you’ve got a good end goal,” she adds, when I’m still staring at her face.
“Huh?”
“A house of your own will be worth it,” she says.
“It will.” I nod, surprised that Tess remembered. I wrongly assumed most things I say go in one of her ears and out the other.
I’m actually feeling touched when the toilet flushes ten feet away from us, and some guy with a hipster beard strolls out of the restroom. He looks Tess up and down, then flashes her a peace sign. A wave of possessiveness swells in my chest. Then I see the guy’s got toilet paper stuck to his shoe.
Romantic.
“Speaking of bathrooms,” Tess says, ignoring the stranger and his TP, “I had to scour Nash’s place. With extra scouring. Did I tell you he put it on the market? Or was that only Jill I told?” Before I can answer, Tornado Tess keeps talking. “According to Nash’s real estate agent, there was a cereal bowl in the sink the last time he brought potential buyers through.” She takes in a breath and puffs out a laugh.
“Why would there be a cereal bowl in your sink?”
Tess smirks. “Because I ate cereal. For breakfast.”
“And you didn’t wash the dishes after?”
“Not immediately. Who does that?”
“I do.”
She snorts. “Of course you do. I forgot you’re a robot.”
“I’m glad you find me so amusing,” I say, althoughgladdoesn’t describe the stone in my gut. I don’t want Tess to see me as some kind of sterile machine. I don’t wantanyoneto see me like that.
Is that how people see me?
“Anyway,” she continues, “now that I’ve given the whole place a good scrubbing—including all the wayward cereal bowls—I only have to keep it clean until Monday. Then I’ll mostly be at the ranch. What a relief.” She takes an exaggerated swipe at her brow, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“What are your plans after camp ends?” I ask her. We may not be right for each other, but I can be polite.
A polite, bowl-cleaning robot.
She cocks her head. “Nash and Emi will probably have the place sold by then. For better or worse.”
“So where will you live? With Mac?”
Before Tess can answer, a bell tinkles above the door, and Frank and Alice come through. I wave to catch my brother’s attention, and his eyes widen when he sees me.
That’s right, Frank. I’m with a woman.
He jerks his head, acknowledging my presence, and I lean over the table, trying to move a little closer to Tess. But she leans back.
Way back.
“Why are you bending like that?” She furrows her brow. “Did your skeleton turn to jello?”
