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“So the lobster is boiled, is it?”
“Don’t pretend you care how the lobster is cooked,” the wife says. “He’s trying to seem sophisticated. Just order a steak, and let’s get home.”
“Boiled lobster,” the man says. “That sounds lovely.”
“Yes, and let’s take out another loan.”
“Darling…”
“I’ll give you a moment.”
I retreat from the table, wondering if that’s what love and relationships really are. I’m letting the initial rush sweep me up and carry me away, but maybe the future looks like that—arguments in front of waitresses. That’s how I can live with this, kissing him only once, being with him just once.
For the rest of my shift, I’m on autopilot. I only snap back to reality because Cillian is in the parking lot when I leave, leaning against a car and smoking a cigarette. A woman sits on the hood of the car, wearing fishnet stockings. I lean forward.
Is it… She has tattoos on her leg, just like the woman from Max’s kitchen. As I watch, Cillian flicks the cigarette away and turns around, wrapping his arms around and kissing her. She kisses him back, and I almost cheer. They weren’t together. Or, if they were, she’s moved on. No, they must not have been together. That’s what I want to believe. It’s more than dirty talk.
“Getting a good look?” Lacy teases, moving up beside me. She’s been happier lately, at least, since she and her husband are making another push on the adoption front.
I laugh awkwardly. “No, I…”
Cillian turns and raises his voice. “Coming to join us, Piggy?”
It’s like being slapped in the face. There’s so much attached to that, so many memories swirling hatefully around my mind. They rush through me, one after the other, but I don’t let it turn me into a mess. I don’t let it break me. I don’t let it shatter me in two.
Not anymore. “Ha, fucking, ha, Cillian,” I snap.
He turns and walks over. The woman from Max’s house looks like she’s on something. She follows but struggles to make it across the parking lot. I rush forward and put my arm around her.
“Oh, uh, hey, thanks.”
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Just feeling a bit… uh, yeah.”
Lacy joins us. “Shall we get you inside, sweetheart? Would you like some water?”
“Whoa, what’s this?” Cillian hounds us, reminding me of how tall he is. His eyes are as wide as saucers. That’s a cliché, fine, but two big, angry saucers are staring right at me. “This is my lady, ladies. You should step away.”
“What did you give her?” Lacy snaps.
“Sorry, darling. I don’t fuck cougars.”
“Cillian, she’s high. You’re high.”
“Why do you think I’m here, baby?” Cillian laughs loudly. “I’m going to change this town. You’ll see. Everybody will be under my spell, even you, Piggy. You’ll do whatever I say when I say it because I’ve got the potions.”
“So you’re a drug dealer. Well done, Cillian. What an achievement.”
He raises his hand and pulls his fist back. My vision flashes in fear, and he laughs erratically and lowers his fist. “I think I’d like to come in for a drink since my lady is.”
“My shift’s over. Do what you want.”
“Oh, you’re leaving? Maybe I’ll stay out here a while then.”
He grins, stepping closer, then reaches out and tries to touch my shoulder. I take a step back, spinning away, take the woman’s other arm, and, with Lacy, help her toward the entrance.
“I’m right behind you, ladies,” Cillian says, laughing, and there’s nothing we can do. He’s threatened me, though, hasn’t he, his hand in my face?
Cillian marches to the bar and hammers it with his fist. “Good man! A drink!”
After we’ve helped the woman sit down, I take out my phone. I wonder if I’m using this as an excuse, but I call him anyway. Maybe it was just dirty talk, but I know who my protector is, who my man is. He won’t let anything happen to me.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Max
I’m starting to feel like I’m in a Charles Dickens novel, experiencing one of those “ubiquitous and troubling coincidences.” This is too much: first, Jane’s relation to Ellie, and now Kelly is with her high school bully. It’s like some force, some impulse in the universe, wants to challenge us to see if we’ll fight for our love.
Ben drums his fingers against the dashboard as I pull into the restaurant’s parking lot. With his other hand, Ben holds Petey, but he’s shaking him because he’s so nervous. My body feels primed, just like in the crack den. The rage triggered in me the second I heard the concern in Ellie’s voice.
“You’re scaring the dog,” I tell him.
“This is my fault. It’s in the blood. I was an addict once. Remember?”
“You got clean.”
“It’s my fault.”
I groan, bringing the car to a stop. There’s nothing I can say to him. Taking Petey from him, I cradle the dog to my chest as I walk across the parking lot. I slip into the restaurant.
