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She pulled her apron over her head, tying it in place and tugging the now-pink beads out of her collar. “She was very obviously absent for a little while,” she said, the undertone in her words needling. “Everything okay on that front?”
“Vee, could we maybe not talk about it right now?”
“Wha-”
“Good morning, ladies.”
Vanessa spun around, her eyes wide as she beheld Hayden walking toward us.
“Wasn’t expecting you today,” Vanessa said, recovering easily. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“I’d love that, please,” Hayden said, her smile soft and easy.
I watched her carefully, wondering how she’d react after finding out about my second job. And the reasons behind it.
“You too, Frankie?”
I hummed automatically before wrenching my gaze away and back to Vanessa. She watched me expectantly.
“Coffee?” she said again.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Please.”
I knew she saw right through me, but I couldn’t find the defiance to defend myself just then.
The longer Hayden existed in my world, the more mysterious she became. Just when I thought I had her figured out, she turned into a completely different person.
Always shattering my expectations.
She fascinated me. The juxtaposition of her kindness and ruthlessness intrigued me. Maybe I just wanted to hold onto the idea that the very first Hayden I’d met was the truest one. The closest to the real Hayden I’d been allowed to see.
“You look rested,” Hayden said, and it took me a second to realize she was talking to me. Looking right at me.
“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess so.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “Can’t have my favorite employee dragging her feet around.”
I choked on my spit and Vanessa quickly swooped in to cover it up.
“Hey, I thought I was your favorite,” she said playfully, setting Hayden’s cup in front of her. She slid mine over to me and I mouthed a silent ‘thank you’.
“What can I say?” Hayden shrugged. “You’re all so amazing, I have a hard time picking just one. Frankie’s special.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Vanessa said, and I struggled to keep my expression neutral.
What the hell was going on?
“Who wants to come up here and show the class what we just learned?”
At once, fifteen little hands shot into the air, followed by a chorus of high-pitched “Me!”
“We’ll go one at a time, how about that?” I asked.
The kids screamed again and I set my guitar aside with a smile. As loud as they were, I couldn’t deny how cute they were.
One by one, in alphabetical order to make sure it was fair, the kids stood in front of the class, their small fingers plucking slowly at the strings. They were clumsy efforts, littered with giggles and pleas to start over.
I was happy to indulge them. The kids’ classes did more than enough to keep my mind occupied, giving me a break from the stress clinging to my back.
