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“Looks like you got me wrong then.”
“So what do you see in Mr. Fancy Pants?” he asks, creasing his forehead curiously.
“Um, let me think… He’s handsome, has a stable job. He’s dependable and charming. Should I continue?”
“Well, I hope he lives up to your expectations.” Squealer smiles, kicking his boot off the curb and taking the weight of his bike between his thighs.
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” The words sound far too hopeful for my liking, and he must sense that because he shakes his head and laughs at me.
“If that’s what you're looking for, darlin’,” he glances over his shoulder toward the diner where Mark’s meeting with Roswell, “Have at it, sweetheart.” He kick-starts his engine, revving his throttle loudly before I have the chance to come back at him. Then he pulls off, turning his bike in the street and heading in the direction of his club.
I was planning on picking something up for lunch from the diner so I could eat in my office, but seeing as that’s where Mark and Roswell are gonna be, I decide to head over to the deli. I can grab a pastry and think over what the hell just happened. Somehow, I have a date tonight. I can’t remember the last time I dated someone. Maybe I should just cancel it. Roswell's sure to have Mark’s number. It might be a little awkward next time he comes into the station, but no more than it will be if I go ahead with this disaster of a date. The bell rings on the deli door as I step inside, and I search the small seating area for somewhere I can sit. I’m out of luck until I see Abby sitting in the corner alone, her red hair tied high on her head while she rests her chin on her fist and flips through a brochure.
I order a pastry and a coffee and watch the girl from the corner of my eye. I can’t quite place my finger on what’s wrong with her, she looks overwhelmed by what she’s looking at. And I see an opportunity.
After Debbie hands me my pastry and coffee with a friendly smile, I head over to the table to join her.
“Abby, isn’t it?” I ask casually, and the girl looks up at me expectantly.
“You mind if I sit here? It’s kinda rammed.” The girl nods back at me like she’s grateful for the distraction.
“Sure, take a seat.” She quickly shifts her stuff off the table into the bag on the floor.
“You looked kinda into something. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“It’s fine, you're actually doing me a favor. All this is mind-blowing.” She lifts up the college prospectus.
“You thinking of going back to school?” I ask. Then silently curse myself for the slip of my tongue, how would I know she used to be a student at Colorado College. I’m just a stranger to the girl.
“Yeah, I kinda fucked it up for myself the first time.” She offers me a downturned smile, not seeming to notice my error.
“So, what are you looking at studying?” I ask, trying to pick the mood back up. Being friends with Abby could be the key to getting me answers, it’s also something positive to focus on.
“That's the problem. I have no clue.” She laughs at herself. “I’ve got three colleges all within traveling distance, and I’m not feeling all that inspired.”
“Then maybe you're not ready yet. You have time before the start of the semester.”
“I guess I’m just feeling unsuccessful right now,” she confides, sighing heavily.
“How come?” I blow the steam off my coffee and narrow my eyes, genuinely interested in what she’s got to say.
“Well, I’ve been talking to this guy online. Don’t judge.” She holds her finger up and smirks. “He just seems so put together. He’s got a good job, earns good money. I’m kinda wondering what he’s gonna see in me.”
“What’s there not to be interested in? You're gorgeous. I don’t know you all that well, Abby, but you seem like a nice girl.”
“You're just being kind. I’m a total bitch.” She looks up at me through her lashes before we both laugh.
“How long have you been speaking to this guy?” I ask, my cop head coming on.
“A few weeks now, we’re hoping to meet up soon. He’s just busy with work, and he’s not local, so…”
“Just be careful. You tend to hear some real horror stories doing what I do,” I warn, she obviously likes the boy she’s talking to, and I know she’s been through a lot. I don’t want to be the one who kills it for her.
“I know, and I appreciate the concern,” she smiles.
“Enough talking about me. How are you settling into town?” she asks, tucking the prospectus into her bag.
“I’m good, it’s strange adapting to a small town when I’m used to the city, but it’s growing on me.”
