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“If I had to guess, he’s been strategizing his next move with Mrs. Quinn.” He slid a twenty across the counter. “Or he might be with my brother.”
“Did you know Holt was coming to the city?”
“No. I only heard about it a few hours before we went to Dino’s.”
“Does he normally just drop in?” I tried to give Andrew his change, but he silently refused, so I dropped it into the tip jar.
“He hardly ever comes back,” Andrew said, mystified.
“I hope everything is okay.”
He nodded once before his expression turned lighter. “About this date. I’m guessing your only free day is Sunday.”
“Yeah.”And that’s my day with Ella. I wouldn’t give that up.
“I don’t think I can wait another six days,” he said impatiently. “So I’ve rethought our plan.”
“You have?” Something about his eagerness had my stomach flipping over on itself. Yet guilt twisted its way through my excitement. Ella. Was it fair to do something for myself?
“It could be dangerous, Bright Side.”
“I imagine it is,” I said dryly.
“What if I meet you here tomorrow, just before you close? I could ride back with you to park the truck, and then we could go have dinner by the river.”
I propped my elbows on the counter and rested my chin in my hands. “You’ve got this all worked out.” Baker had seen him outside Paths. Did that mean he knew where I parked Delores? What if he was like—no, I wouldn’t immediately think the worst.
“I’m a problem-solver.”
“I’ll smell like a food truck.”
“Your food is my favorite, so that sounds like a win to me,” he countered.
“I’m not letting you drive Delores.”
Andrew craned his neck. “I beg your pardon?”
I traced the window frame. “Delores. That’s her name.”
He touched the side of the truck. “My apologies, Delores. I didn’t realize you had a name.”
“Your sweet talk won’t work on her.”
“What about you?” One corner of his mouth lifted in a boyish grin.
“Not likely.” That was a lie. It already affected me.
“So what do you think of my grand plan?” he asked, back to business.
I pretended to contemplate like it was a difficult decision. “Saturday would be better.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “But tomorrow works.”
He beamed at me like I’d made his week. “Gotta go before you change your mind.” Andrew snatched his bag of food off the counter and hurried away, a bounce in his step. When he reached the nearby bench, he turned around. “See you tomorrow.”
“I’ve been worried about you,”I said as Mr. Hardaway approached the window.
“I’ll take two slices of chocolate,” he demanded. “And whatever that was you gave me the other day.”
“You mean the chicken pot pies you didn’t want?” I couldn’t help but goad him. It was just too easy.
