“That’s insane.” Joe swirled his wine absently before taking a drink.
“That’s the biz.” I replied with a shrug. “And look what I have to show for it. A family that doesn’t know me and a beat up food truck with a new paintjob.”
“Hey.” His tone was scolding, as it always was whenever I got down on myself. “Your dad got it, Molly. Where do you think you learned to work so hard?”
“I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.” I stared at my half eaten plate and then looked back up at him. “Dad used to get such bad headaches that he’d have to go lay down in his office sometimes. I’m sure if he’d slowed down long enough to go to the doctor he’d still be here with us. Maybe if I’d been here I could have talked him into getting a checkup.”
“Maybe.” Joe’s leery tone spoke volumes. He tossed his napkin onto his plate. “Hildebrandts can be a pretty stubborn bunch.”
A small smile crept onto my face. Sharing a history like Joe and I did made shorthand of many conversations.
He cleared his throat. “Are you glad you went with the truck idea instead of working for someone else?”
“Oh yeah. It’s cool to control everything. The menu, the hours…but on the other hand being responsible for all of it is nerve wracking. It was stressful enough when it was just Stacy and Dirty S. Now I have three more employees relying on me.”
“But look how far you’ve come already.” His hand was on the small of my back and when he ran his thumb delicately along my spine, I shivered.
I nodded. “It’s overwhelming. I’m glad we had the second truck ready. The article in The Chronicle has brought in all kinds of new business.
“You have good instincts.” He nodded at our waitress as she took our plates away.
I sipped the last of my wine, distracted by the thought of the ever growing lines of customers. “Sometimes I do.” I sighed and glanced up at him. “I just don’t want to let anyone down. The pressure just wears you down, you know?”
“Hmmm…” He brushed my hair off of my bare shoulder and planted a soft kiss on it. My breath caught and I glanced around nervously. Joe seemed to be a little more generous with his affection each time we went out. “I think I can help relieve your tension.”
I was thrilled to see our waitress return with the check.
Last night it was my turn to pick, and we’d gone to see a movie at The Ritz. I figured he’d want to see the latest sports team/coach-with-a-heart-of- gold movie and he thought I’d want to see a romantic comedy. We’d both came prepared to concede to the other’s wishes and had a laugh when it came out that we both really wanted to see the comic book blockbuster. We gorged ourselves on Junior Mints and gourmet popcorn and agreed we gave the film two thumbs up. As we exited the theater hand in hand, I noticed Charlie the Plumber waiting in line for the next show.
“Joe.” I whispered, signaling him with my eyes. He glanced over and turned back to me.
“Maybe he didn’t see us.” He replied quietly.
I looked back at Charlie who gawked at us in amazement and held up a hand in greeting.
“He saw us.” I sighed.
“Ah well.” Joe soothed me with his confident demeanor as he nodded at Charlie nonchalantly. “It had to come out sooner or later.”
I inhaled deeply. “I wonder if he’ll wait till after the movie to call Mac.”
On both occasions we ended up in bed together. I was just as guilty as he was about that outcome. It wasn’t like it was just sex anymore. He was trying hard …but I was worried he was forcing things…pushing himself and the pace of our…whatever it was we were doing. So far I’d kept quiet, afraid to speak up and jinx things if I was way off base.
I was far too tired to be thinking about things with Joe, especially with an un-caffeinated brain. My phone buzzed and I snatched it up.
It was a text from Draven.
We got an offer on the house. It’s our asking price.
I sighed as the weight of the world vanished from my shoulders.
Take it.
My cool response was uplifting, and I took a big sip of my coffee and opened my car door. My phone buzzed again.
I can’t believe it’s finally over.
I rolled my eyes.
Me too
.
I was in no mood for small talk with him and I was about to put my phone into my purse when it buzzed again.
Sorry things got so ugly. I miss you sometimes, Doll.
My face burned and I could barely type I was so furious. His whore of a wife had just born him a kid and here he was hitting on me?
Fuck you, Drae. How’s the family?
I tossed my phone angrily into my purse. I swallowed another large drink of coffee as I climbed up into the truck and nearly choked to death when I saw Stacy sitting on top of my workspace with her legs wrapped around Dirty S. He had his hands up her shirt and their mouths devoured each other’s. I tried to back off the truck without them spotting me. The top step creaked and I was busted.
“Oh-my-God!” Stacy cried out. She blushed to her hairline, pushing Sanchez away as she pulled down her shirt.
“Uh…shit…sorry!” I blurted, and turning, I bolted down the steps. I went for my car, unable to process anything but the need to flee.
“Wait! Molly!” Stacy called out after me. I climbed in my car anyway. My temper flared white hot and I needed to leave. As much ugly history as I had with my brother, I didn’t want him being screwed over, especially by someone he met through me.
“You two seem to have this all under control.” My voice was far from snark-free. I’m going back home and going to bed. Later!”
“Molly!” Stacy yelled, grabbing the car door before I could slam it. “Mac and I broke up.”
“What? When?” I realized just how pissed I really was when I noticed my hands were shaking as they gripped the steering wheel. I’d always had strong opinions about cheaters, but after the whole Draven/Elaine business I was hypersensitive.
“The day after Thanksgiving.” She teared up, managing to walk the line between sad and humiliated. “Mac and I agreed it was for the best. We had a lot of fun but it wasn’t really going anywhere.”
“I didn’t know.” I mumbled, unsure how to feel about things. I was sad to think of Mac alone, but knew he had a decent head on his shoulders. The smallest part of me leapt with joy for Sanchez…but I couldn’t push aside my concerns that this would be another flash in the pan for Stacy. Mostly, I just couldn’t believe how out of the loop I was since I was so damn focused on Joe. I was a shitty friend and an even shittier sister.
“Molly.” Sanchez appeared next to Stacy and put his arm around her. It was a bold statement from him, and had it been anyone but Sanch, I might have thought it cocky. His voice was firm and strong. “Please don’t be mad. I promise nothing will happen on the truck again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t.” I popped out of my car and got as far into his face as I could, seeing that he’s about a foot taller than I am. “This is a place of business, not the backseat on lover’s lane.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” They said in unison. I half expected them both to salute.
“Now, Stacy. Get in there and scrub down that counter that you just had your ass all over. Dirty S, I’m feeling whimsical. Today’s special is the Sunday Brunch Wrap. I have three roasted hams in the trunk of my car. I need you to run to the store for potatoes and cheese. And I want to make a dessert today. Mini Derby Pies. So I need pecans and chocolate. Here’s the list.”
“If we’re doing Bacon Cheeseburger Wraps today, we’ll need more dill pickles.” Stacy called from inside the truck.”
“You heard her. Go.” I waved him off and climbed onto the truck. It was considerably roomier than the first Wrapgasmic. I was a little jealous that I’d be stuck running the old truck, but it made sense financially to have this larger, more visible truck on SoCo where there was so much eye candy. Plus Sanchez could use the headspace a lot more than I could. Stacy was polishing the steel counter to a high gloss, her pale pony tail shimmying from the frantic motions.
“Hey.” My apprehension came through in my voice.
“I’m sorry, Molly. I mean it.” She sounded like she was sniffling, but I couldn’t be sure. “We just got carried away.”
I heaved a sigh. “I know. Can I ask you something without pissing you off?”
“You can try.” Stacy quipped, turning to face me.
I didn’t crack a smile at her joke. “Is it necessary to screw up our workplace when you can pretty much have any guy you want?”
Her face fell and tears sprung to her eyes. “Don’t make me choose.”
“I’m not making you do anything, Stacy. I’m not a fascist. I’m just asking
why
Sanchez?”
“He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met, Molly.”
“Yeah. Me too. I’d like to keep it that way, wouldn’t you?”
“Look. He and I discussed this. I’ll be on truck one and he’ll be on truck two. If it goes bad, it shouldn’t affect our jobs. Satisfied?” Her tone was clipped and her posture told me she wasn’t backing down.
Blinking rapidly, I folded my arms. “It seems y’all have it all figured out. Great.”
“Not all of us can bury our feelings like you do. What can I say? I follow my heart and I’m not apologizing for it.” I felt like she’s slapped me, and it must have shown because she stepped forward and took my hand. “Sorry. That was a shitty thing to say. It’s just that…you can’t let what happened with your ex keep you from trying again, ya know?”
I felt the air leave my lungs. I wanted to strangle her for bringing up Draven, but she looked so sincere and she did have a point. Joe wasn’t perfect but he was
damn
close. And he was
nothing
like Draven.
“So you think I’m a slut. Well, I’m not. I may date a lot of men but I do it
one
man at a time. I’m looking for the right one. I don’t play games. And I
never
want to look back and say ‘what if’.” She dropped my hand. “If you ask me, you and Joe could be really good together, If you both weren’t so busy being stupid.”
“Stop talking before you say anything else you’ll regret.” I snapped, handing her the menu for the day. Apparently she dug deep and found her good sense because she clamped her mouth shut and snatched up the chalk and the sandwich board.
I somehow kept my temper in check throughout the lunch rush, and with all the praise from happy customers the mood in the truck was downright fun again by the time the crowd thinned out. I was taking a break with a well-earned glass of sweet tea when I heard Stacy’s flirty greeting.
“Hey there, what can we get you today?”
“I’ll have the special.” A male voice replied.
Sanchez and I whipped together what I hoped would be the last special of the day. Stacy passed the plate out the window.
“You must be Molly.” I heard him say.
“Nope, but she’s here. Just a sec. Molly!” She called, and after another long swallow of my cold drink, I switched places with her at the window. A poised, well-dressed gentleman in a suit stood with his hands in his pockets. He wore designer glasses and had longish gray hair.
He was chewing his first bite of my wrap when I spoke.
“Well? What do you think?” I asked, though the enraptured look on his face told me all I needed to know. Startled, he looked up at me with blatant curiosity.
Something about him was immediately welcoming and I grinned and stuck my hand out the window. “Molly Hildebrandt. What can I do for you?”
He grappled with his plate to return the handshake, eyeing the mural of tattoos on my arm in a manner that wasn’t new to me. “Will. Someone I know called your wraps ‘food porn on wheels’. He nailed it, pardon the pun.”
I laughed happily. It was the last thing I expected to come out of Mr. Straightlaced’s mouth. He grinned brightly in return. “I just wanted to meet the mastermind behind it.”
“Well, I’m glad you took a chance on us. I hope we didn’t disappoint.” I grinned broadly. I planned to rub the food porn comment in Mac’s face the next time I saw him. Like I told him when he bad mouthed my choice of business name, sex sells.
“Not at all. Joe was right. It’s delicious.”
“Joe Jensen?” My smile faltered and he nodded. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptivity and he seemed to examine me. I turned to Sanchez and Stacy. “I’m taking a break. It looks like this day is winding down anyway.”
I descended the stairs and came to a stop in front of Will. We seemed to have a wordless conversation as we stood toe to toe. It’s as if we both said ‘you’re not at all what I expected in a friend of Joe’s.’
“How do you know Joe?” I managed.
He smiled as if he’d expected me to ask that exact question. “We go way back.”
Something about the way he said it was off, like he was telling a private joke. He sat down at the nearby picnic table and I joined him. But then he smiled and the good natured expression took away most of my concern.
“So,” he said after he swallowed another bite. “You have a real talent for food. Have you ever thought about starting a restaurant?” I laughed and shook my head.
“Already went down that road Will. Trust me, this path is a whole lot more fun.”
“Well, you certainly seem to be enjoying yourself. That’s important. Not many people truly love what they do. Most are just collecting paychecks.” He looked at the stragglers at my window with a distant expression on his face.
“Yeah,” I flailed around for something to say. “Have you ever seen any of Joe’s carvings?” He shook his head.
“I have seen a few pictures but I have never been to his workshop.” I hopped up and motioned for him to follow me back to the door of the truck. Opening it I grabbed the spice box and brought it back out with me. His eyes grew wide and he gasped.
“Good lord! Did Joe make that?” I nodded.
“For my birthday. Isn’t it cool?” He gently set the box on a nearby table and began studying it intently. “I can’t believe that he has been working as a framer instead of doing this.” He stopped examining the box for a moment and looked up at me.
“With a talent like this you can only hope he would choose to do it more often.”
“Yeah. He has been through some tough times.” My arms inched up in a small shrug. “But I guess the fact that he is making stuff again is a step in the right direction.”