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I pulled myself together while I waited.
I’d never wanted to open my life to the world. To open myself up that way.
I’d prided myself on keeping my life private.
Separate from football.
She came back immediately and handed me the bag. “So, how does this work?”
“Are you available tomorrow morning to start?”
“I am. I can work on Breen’s story outside of our work hours.”
I handed her my phone. “Put in your number. I’ll text you where to meet me for our run tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, I’m running with you now?”
“Do you want to see what I do? The work I put in? All of it?”
“I do.”
“I’ll text you the time. How are you getting home?”
“What?” she hissed.
“Watch your back with that guy.”
“Careful, Captain. You almost seem like you care,” she said, backing away with a cocky grin on her face.
“In your dreams, sweetheart.”
I made my way to the front of the restaurant before bumping into Lionel, who always seemed to find me every time I came to pick up my food.
“Mr. Hendrix. Um, hi. Er, hello, sir. I thought I saw you come in.”
I tried not to laugh. He was always tripping over his words. “Relax, Lionel. You can call me Lincoln. Brinkley’s brother owns this place, right?”
“Hugh? Yeah. He’s my boss.”
“Is he around, by any chance?” I asked. I didn’t know why I was so concerned about her. She wasn’t my problem. Hell, I hardly knew the woman.
Well, she was technically working for me now.
The least I could do was make sure she was okay.
“Yep. He’s in the kitchen. Do you want me to go get him?” He looked thrilled that I was asking him for something, which was somewhat humorous.
“That would be great. It’ll just take a minute.”
What the fuck was I doing? Lionel hurried off just as a teenage girl that was always standing behind the hostess stand approached me.
“You’re the football player, right? Henry Lincoln?”
“Lincoln Hendrix.”
“I’m Brandy, Lionel’s girlfriend,” she said with a wide grin on her face. “He’s a super fan, I guess. He can’t stop talking about you. So, I wanted to see if maybe you could help me out with a surprise for his birthday? It’s our senior year, so I want to make it extra special.”
Welcome to small-town living. Normally, I’d avoid interactions like this, but here in Cottonwood Cove, it was just the norm.
