For the Love of Ash (27 page)

Maggie

Wednesdays I didn't have class, but I had work. Jet was riding me hard today, and for the middle of the week, the breakfast rush was busy. The regular crew was sitting at the bar as they ate their scrambled eggs with hash browns and bacon.
 

This one guy, Artie Fowler, flirted with me regularly, and I actually looked forward to his visits. He was at least ninety, bald with those brown spots on his head like polka dots.
 

"Maggie, girl. Looking real pretty," he would say.
 

"Artie you always say that," I'd say back.

"I don't lie, Miss Pretty. You look good every day."

"Thank you," I'd answer. Then he'd go back to his food and eat with the newspaper up in front of his face. He didn't have any friends who stopped by like most of the others.
 

It was strange how men were just as cliquey as teenage girls in high school. There was a group of five older men who'd meet every Friday and shoot the shit at the bar. Two of the guys came almost every day and sat together. Some days they wouldn't talk; some days they didn't shut up. But they always came.

By the time I took a breath, I saw that it was already twelve-thirty. I looked around the restaurant and noticed the thinning crowd. The lunch rush in the middle of the day was never busy. Jet worked the place by himself unless it was a weekend when one of us would come give him a hand.
 

I started to clean around the restaurant. Mary Ellen was the other waitress who was on with me. She was in her early forties, beautiful with shoulder-length brown hair. I figured she could cover the rest of the tables while I made more coffee, wiped down tables, and refilled all the condiments.

It wasn't a fun job, but I loved the people I worked with. I didn't mind making my paycheck from here because it was a loving environment. Everyone knew my situation and didn't judge me. They all had their own problems.

I suspected Jet used to deal drugs in New York City due to the scars on his body and his attitude, but he wouldn't share much. I didn't blame him. Mary Ellen was a recovering alcoholic and divorcee who didn't have much going on. She was clinically depressed, and I found myself trying to lighten her up on a daily basis.
 

We had two high-schoolers who worked at night, but they were normal as far as I could tell. Catty—but normal.
 

"Can you handle the crazy crowd?" I asked Mary Ellen sarcastically as I started to take off my apron. There was now only one elderly couple in the entire place. I looked behind me through the rectangular window that opened into the kitchen and saw Jet sitting with his feet up, comic in front of his face, behind the stove.

"Go change, brat." She swatted me on the butt as I walked by her, and I jumped from the sting. I had brought a change of clothes today since I was meeting Luke. I didn't want to smell like fried pig and coffee beans all day, although I knew from experience how hard it was to get the tips of my fingers to stop smelling.
 

I didn't want to dress up since we were just meeting at Starbucks, so I changed into dark-washed jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt that matched Luke's eyes. It wasn't too cold yet, but with Halloween around the corner, I was bracing for snow.
 

I laced up my tan knock off Sorel's and ran a brush through my hair. I was lucky that even after having it up all morning, there wasn't a crease. It was a pet peeve of mine, that one little wave from a too-tight ponytail.
 

Anyway…

I had brought my makeup bag with me, but as I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought that I shouldn't put any on. I hardly ever wore more than concealer when I had a zit and a swipe of eyeliner to accentuate my eyes.
 

I felt like if I put on mascara and blush it would be overkill. So I stayed in my comfort zone and only put on a little bit of brown eyeliner and called it a day. I lugged my bag, now filled with my work clothes, and walked back out into the main restaurant.
 

It was a ghost town. The couple had already finished and was gone. Mary Ellen was leaning through the window to the kitchen, jabbering with Jet who looked like he hadn't moved a muscle.

"I'm heading out," I said as I looked at the large circular clock on the wall. It was quarter to two, and despite Starbucks being a mile away, I wanted to be there on time, early even so I could mentally prepare.

"Have fun on your date!" Jet yelled towards me. I didn't mention anything about a date, so I spun towards him with wide eyes.

"How do you know I'm going on a date?"

"Please. You're so spun up; I don't know what else could be the reason."

"He's right," Mary Ellen agreed, and I shot her a glare. Traitor!

"Whatever. Later, jerks." I threw up my middle finger as I walked out of Prime Time. They hooted and hollered, wolf-whistling towards me as I made my dramatic exit. I loved them.
 

I sat in my car and watched Luke pull up two spots down from me in his black truck. I crouched down so that he wouldn't see me, leaning back so my face was shielded by the door. When he jumped out and ruffled his hair in the mirror, my heart flip-flopped.
 

He walked into the building, and I straightened myself up. The entire front of the coffee place was glass windows. They had Halloween decorations on the glass, little cut-outs of ghosts, witches, and haunted house silhouettes.
 

I pushed out a large breath and decided that I had to go in. I had my backpack with me, with all of the things I needed for the project, and I slung it over my back.
 

My fingers were already itching to grab ahold of something and spin it around. It was a bad habit. I decided to smoke a cigarette really quick to calm myself down before I faced Luke. I walked around the side of my car and lit up, hoping that my Honda would hide me from Luke's gray eyes. I didn't want him to know I was here yet.
 

"A smoker, huh?" Busted.

"What's it to you?" I asked back defensively. I didn't know why his tone bothered me so much, like he was judging me, but it did. He reached forward before I could react and took the cigarette from my fingers.
 

"Hey!" I yelled. He threw it to the ground and stomped on it, putting it out and spreading the tobacco across the pavement. "Those cost a lot of money, you know."
 

"So stop smoking, save money." He grinned and pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arm over my shoulder. "Let's get a drink." I glared up at him, but the warmth and comfort from his arm around my shoulders shut me up fast.
 

I was assaulted by the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. I loved coffee—everything from the scent, to the rush, to the warm way it swam down my throat. Just thinking about it made me want to snuggle by my non-existent fireplace.
 

"What can I get you?" Luke asked as we stopped at the back of the line. It was the middle of the day so there weren't many people around. I didn't come here much—it was too expensive for my budget—so I perused the chalkboard, trying to read the mostly Italian words.
 

"Next!" the woman behind the counter called. I had no idea what I wanted, and I was hoping that it would just come to me like an epiphany. How did you just say, I want a coffee with milk and a ton of sugar here?

"I'll have a dark roast with half and half, please," Luke said effortlessly. He looked down at me, his neck craning down to see me since I was so much shorter.
 

"Um, can I just have a medium coffee with milk and sugar?" My voice was timid, a trait it rarely took on. Luke smiled at the woman behind the counter and handed her a gift card.

"You have only thirty dollars left on the card," she flirted, twirling a strand of platinum blonde hair around her pointer finger. I wanted to glare but held back because I had no claim over Luke.

"Thanks a lot," Luke said and turned towards me. He grabbed my hand and led me around the dark wood counter where there was a set of four stools set up.
 

"You two friends?" I asked as I sat down on the stool closest to the wall.
 

"Something like that." He looked behind the counter without elaborating further. I followed his eyes and saw a series of devices coated in shiny silver and puffing steam.

The barista was zipping around, alternating between the sink and the machines, her legs moving fast. She had a rag draped over her shoulder, brownish stains lining the edges.
 

"Hello?" Luke's hand waved in front of my face, drawing me back to reality. I shook my head and focused on him, his light eyes captivating me. I seriously needed to get it together.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

"One regular coffee and one dark roast for Luke," the barista yelled. She placed the two white cups in front of us, and stuck the stopper in the small oval hole.

"Let's go sit," Luke said. I followed behind him to a small circular table. Luke sat on one side, and I decided to sit on the other. Being close to him made me flustered, so I figured the most space between us would be best so my brain worked. I dropped my backpack on the ground and pulled the stopper out of the coffee.

I took a sip and immediately flinched backwards. The coffee definitely had no sugar in it. It was bitter, and kind of burnt. Luke laughed as I set the cup back down on the table.

"Not your taste?" he asked as he took a sip of his own.

"It's fine," I muttered.

"I thought you liked coffee. You always drink it in class."

"I'm a more Dunkin' Donuts kind of girl."

"I see."
 

"So, what do you say we get started on our notecards?"

"Relax. Let's do it later. I want to talk."

"About what?"

"You." My heart nearly stopped. "I want to know more about you, Sunny. So tell me."

"I don't really like to spill my guts on the first date."

"So this is a date," he drawled, winking at me. I glared and took another sip of the shitty coffee. "Seriously, give me something, Sunny."

"Well I heard you've been to jail." I shrugged, hiding behind my mug.

"One: That's not about you. And two: It's an exaggerated rumor." He rolled his eyes, both hands around the cup in front of him. His hands were so large, they covered most of the white.
 

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"I got in a bar fight. The guy hit me first, so I fought back. We both got put in jail until we sobered up. Neither of us pressed charges and that was about as far as it got. It really wasn't a big thing."

"You have a habit of getting into fights at bars?"
 

"I was a dumb rich kid who was finally out of the house. What can I say?" The way he said it almost came off as cocky.
 

"Are you violent?" I asked, cocking my head. I was genuinely curious.

"No." He paused. "Is that what you're worried about? I swear I'm not." He reached forward and grabbed my fingers, holding them in his hand. He squeezed them together.

"I just wanted to make sure."

"I'm not violent. But if a guy touched you like that again you can bet I'd make sure you're safe. I'd do the same for my sisters." His eyes were hard, honest.

"Is that how you view me? Like your sisters?"

"I think you know that's not true." His gray eyes locked on mine as he pulled my hand forward, lacing our fingers together on top of the table. Where his fingers touched mine, pulses of heat vibrated through my body, jolting me. I couldn't focus on anything but his eyes.
 

"How do you see me then?"

"You're beautiful." He paused and smiled. "Smart. You're loyal, especially to Asher. You're responsible and committed, maybe even a little overprotective. And you have this fire to you that I find so appealing." He bent towards the table and kissed my hand like a Prince would.
 

My hands had begun to sweat. I pulled it out of his reach and onto my lap, wiping my palm on my jeans. I hoped that he didn't notice.
 

"I think we should get started on the project." I looked down at my bag to hide my heated cheeks. My stomach was lifted, like butterflies were making me fly. I felt like I had no trouble in the world, and then all at once, guilt overtook me.
 

"Tell me a secret," he said as he took a sip of his dark coffee.
 

"We really have to start. We don't have too long before I have to get Asher." I made the mistake of looking up, and I caught the hurt expression on Luke's face.
 

"You're right," he said, recovering fast. He nodded with what seemed like a fake smile on his face.
 

"I'm sorry. It's just… I can't, like, move too fast, you know? I'm not used to juggling everything. I don't want to be a shitty parent to Ash. And then June said that her parents were never around, and it just freaked me out. And now I'm just rambling…" I shook my hand and dropped it in my hands.