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Ken comes over to talk to Richard, surprised to find me at the table, too. If memory serves, he banned me from the restaurant when he kicked me out, though my memory of that period in my life is pretty hazy. Thankfully, Ken was never one to hold a grudge, and everyone knows you have to be a little crazy to work in kitchens. Plus, I’ve sort of made a name for myself since I started taking the job seriously. I like what I do, and I’m damn good at it, or so people tell me.
“Will you excuse me,” Noelle says, pushing back from the table before anyone can ask where she’s going.
My mom and Dick don’t seem to notice when she doesn’t return after a few minutes. When I can no longer stomach the cutesy nicknames and mind-numbing conversation, I excuse myself to the men’s room, with the intention of making a quick detour at the bar.
I’m surprised to find Noelle has beaten me there, like a sweet twist of fate. A tight little treasure wrapped in green Christmas paper, waiting to be revealed.
Quit thinking with your dick,I tell myself, taking the stool beside her.
I clear my throat. Noelle glances up, startled to see me. I can tell I make her nervous, but I’m not sure yet if it’s nervous in agoodway. I hit her with a smile.
“Looks like you and I had the same idea,” I say.
“What idea’s that?”
“That it’s about time for a drink.”
I wave to the bartender before I realize who it is. Aliyah, Cara’s roommate, glares at me from the opposite end of the bar. I wonder what percentage of my drink tonight will be something I didn’t order. I’ll just have to pick a liquor strong enough to mask it.
Aliyah’s expression softens as soon as she notices Noelle. She finishes serving a group of tired-looking businessmen before sauntering down to our end of the bar.
“Hey girl,” she says, “please tell me you didn’t come here with this miserable creature.”
“Always good to see you, too, Ali,” I say with a smirk.
She tosses her braids over her shoulder. “I’ve seen more than enough of you this week, Sawyer Bell. What can I do foryou, Noelle?”
“Something with bourbon,” she says.
Aliyah arches her brow. “You know I can’t serve you any booze up here during work hours.”
Noelle hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “See that couple over there, at table fourteen?”
“The ones eating each other’s faces for dessert?”
Noelle makes a gagging noise. “Yeah. That’s my dad and his new wife. They eloped last week. In Vegas.”
Aliyah shudders. “Jesus.”
“See this guy?” Noelle points to me. I lift my hand in a small wave. “He’s my new stepbrother.”
“You poor thing,” Aliyah says, horrified. “I’m so sorry—”
“Save it for the Yelp review,” I say, pulling out my wallet. “Make the kid something strong. I’ll have the same.”
Aliyah takes my credit card and pats Noelle’s hand. “Don’t worry, girl, I got you. As for Mr. Bell, I’ll see what I can scrounge up from thebottomshelf.”
Noelle rubs her eyes. She looks exhausted, and I suddenly remember what she said about this being her night off. I play with a stray coaster until Aliyah returns with our drinks.
“Cheers,” I say, tapping my glass against Noelle’s.
“What are we drinking to?”
“The happy couple, of course.”
She groans. I take a swig from my glass and immediately cough. Bottom shelf is right. “Guess I’ll count my blessings that it’s just alcohol, and not a Drano sour.”
Noelle chuckles, shaking her head. The sound tickles my insides like carbonation. I try to think of something funny to say, something to keep her smiling. But the moment passes, and soon she’s somber again.
