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Chapter Eight
“There he is! Mackinac’sfinest.” A guy toward the far end of the bar hustled up and smacked Wayne across the shoulder.
Elise was both grateful and jealous that this man took Wayne’s attention for a second. Matt hardly noticed Wayne and Michael, and instead focused his eyes on Elise.
“You have to tell me what’s in this Rum Runner,” he said, just as Marcy placed both glasses on the table between them.
“Well, isn’t it the brand-new employee of The Grind!” Marcy cried as she snapped her hands on her hips.
“Hey there, Marcy,” Michael said. He delivered one of his sterling, handsome, twenty-four-year-old smiles. “Fancy meeting you here at this time of night.”
“You serve me in the morning when I’m too groggy to live and I serve you at night! Quite a relationship we have here, Mike.”
“As long as you don’t call me Mike again, I think that relationship can continue,” Michael said. “Can you grab Wayne and me two double whiskeys? We have the morning off, and we’re looking to drink.”
At this, Michael yanked his head around and winked at Elise.
What does that wink even mean?
Elise felt cold and clammy. For the past day, Wayne had full-on ignored her text message and now he had discovered her out on a kind of date? Or whatever it was. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and sadness.
Matt was perceptive, at least in this case. Elise marveled that he hadn’t yet been able to figure out how much she didn’t appreciate his romantic advancements but wasn’t it just like a man to think, beyond anything, he deserved a woman, even if she didn’t want him back?
“You know that guy?” Matt asked, catching the wink.
“I guess so,” Elise said. She stretched her hand out toward Michael and forced herself to smile. “Hey there! How’s your night going?”
She sounded like a complete phony.
“Hey, Elise,” Michael said, even as Wayne continued his conversation behind him. “How ya been? And you must be...”
Matt stepped up from his stool and shoved his hand out to shake Michael’s. “I’m Matt.”
“Oh! A professional,” Michael said. “I didn’t realize. Would you like to take a look at my resume?”
Matt didn’t skip a beat. “Actually, this is an interview. Do you mind sitting down?”
“Only if I can start with the questions first thing,” Michael said. His grin was crooked, almost menacing, even in its youthful handsomeness.
“I’m afraid we can’t begin until you tell me you and your friend’s names,” Matt said.
Why is he so chipper?
“Of course. How rude are we?” Michael said. “I’m Michael, and this here—my pride and joy—is Wayne.” He dropped back and wrapped his arm around Wayne’s neck, wrangling him.
Wayne allowed himself to be taken toward the table. He refused to make eye contact with Elise. All the while, Elise’s heart performed a sad, thudding routine.
He won’t even look at me. It’s over.
I was so foolish to think that we had anything at all between us.
Now, look at me? Pathetic, at the bar he showed me, with a man I’ll probably just fall into—the way people fall into horrible events in their lives and allow them to happen.
“Never let anyone rule your life for you,” Allison Darby had written in her diary. “Take it by the reigns. Make your own decisions. Find your own path.”
Elise had read it over and over.
“Wayne and Michael. I take it you two are father and son?” Matt asked, his grin widening as he shook Wayne’s hand.
