Toeing off my shoes, I sank into a chair and put my feet up on another, flexing my arches. It was my third double that week. I wasn’t complaining, though. While Lacey had insisted on taking student loans for the tuition her scholarships wouldn’t cover, there were still a ton of other expenses. I wanted her to focus on her studies and not worry about a part-time job to make ends meet.
Eddie, the cook, stuck his head in the door. “You want something to eat?”
One of the benefits of working at the Cedar Creek Diner was a free meal during my shifts, provided that meal was the blue-plate special. It was Thursday, which meant meatloaf, and I’d already scarfed down as much as I could manage during my first shift. That was to say, not much.
I held back a grimace. “No, thanks.”
He eyed me. “I’ll make you a grilled cheese.”
“No, wait—” He was gone before I could voice my protest. I didn’t want him to end up on Sharon’s shit list because of me. She wouldn’t fire him, but she would make his next few shifts miserable, especially while she was in the middle of another effort to quit smoking.
Ten minutes later, when Eddie brought me the sandwich, my stomach let out a loud rumble. He grinned, revealing a missing incisor. “See? Uncle Eddie knows what’s best for you.”
I took a huge bite of the buttery crust and sighed in appreciation as melted cheesed oozed into my mouth. “Thanks, Eddie. I’ll hide the evidence.”
He shrugged. “It ain’t no thing. Sharon don’t scare me.”
“She’s quitting again.”
The grin fell off his face. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Like I said, I’ll hide the evidence.”
“Thanks.”
I still had a few minutes left on my break, so I used my phone to pull up notes for the microbiology course I was taking at the local community college. It was kicking my butt. I wasn’t stupid, but between the double shifts at the diner and a part-time cleaning job, I was usually dead tired. To my mortification, I’d fallen asleep in class last week. The noise of everyone packing up to leave woke me, and I’d found drool on my textbook. Drool. It was not my proudest moment.
The RN program took full-time students two years to complete. I was slogging along in my fourth year. My limited time and finances combined with the course schedule hadn’t allowed me to go any faster. It was just as well. I sure as hell didn’t want to work dead-end jobs the rest of my life, but I was also starting to wonder if nursing was the right career path. At that point, it didn’t matter. I’d come too far to change course.
As I stood to leave the lounge, my shoe caught on the chair, and the tape I’d used to secure the heel came loose. Damn it. Luckily, I’d brought the black electrical tape with me, just in case. Using my teeth, I ripped off a strip and reattached the heel. I should have replaced the shoes weeks ago, but I hadn’t wanted to spend the money or the time driving to Richmond, which was where the closest decent shopping was.
After taking a moment to wash up in the restroom, I tightened my apron and refilled the pocket with a handful of pens, a valuable commodity in my line of work. When I emerged from the lounge, a sizable crowd was gathered in the front corner of the diner. Odd for a Thursday, but whatever. I’d take it. More customers meant more tips.
Taking my order pad out of my apron, I plastered a smile on my face, preparing to greet the newcomers. Except most of them weren’t sitting in booths or at tables. What the hell? Should I try to seat them or something? It was too weird.
A voice drifted through the din, stopping me in my tracks. No, it can’t be. But it was. I’d have known that voice anywhere. It haunted my dreams and trespassed in my waking thoughts. A flood of memories rushed through my mind—that voice saying “I love you,” singing to me, and at the end, being filled with coldness and anger.
Gabe.
The sea of bodies parted, and my breath caught at the sight of him with his tousled hair, soulful green eyes, and a mouth that was made for sin. Tattoos. He has more tattoos. It was a stupid thought, because I already knew about his ink, courtesy of the millions of images circulating of him. But the new version of him—Gabe Gable—had never seemed real. To me, he was still Gabe Gagliano, the love of my life, my salvation and my ruin.
Someone bumped into me, and I snapped out of my inertia. I have to get out of here. I slowly started to backpedal, not wanting to take my eyes off him while simultaneously praying to God he didn’t see me.
Even as part of me wanted to forget stealth, to turn tail and run, another part wanted to stay in his presence. I was drawn to him—he was the flame, and I was the damned moth.
“All right, people,” Sharon’s voice boomed directly behind me.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Either find a table and order something or scram. I’m running a business, not a fan club.”
Gabe’s head turned in Sharon’s direction—in my direction. His eyes locked on mine, his expression registering surprise for a fleeting second before morphing into something I didn’t recognize.
The lack of recognition struck me like a knife to the heart. I’d known Gabe Gagliano better than I’d known myself. It was how I’d been able to manipulate him in the end. But Gabe Gable was a stranger to me.
My cheeks burned, my vision blurred with tears, and my breath didn’t come.
“Leah,” Sharon said, “are you just going to stand there, or—”
I untied my apron and shoved it at her. “I can’t.”
Then I fled the diner like the coward I was.
Chapter 2
Gabe
“Aww, come on, Miss Sharon,” a girl whined, but I had eyes only for the woman fleeing.
Leah.
I watched her as she streaked through the exit, the bell above the door swaying due to the force she’d used to open it. I felt… I didn’t know what I felt. Numb. Once upon a time, Leah was my world, my everything. Now, she was nothing more than a part of my past.
Except when she broke my heart, she took a chunk of it that I would never get back.
I glanced over at Tyler, who was wearing a careful nonchalant expression. Damn him. He knew she worked at the diner, likely even knew she’d be there. Cedar Creek was small, so I knew I’d see her eventually. But I hadn’t wanted there to be an audience for our ill-fated reunion, though it wasn’t much of one. She’d scurried away like she was the one who—
Exhaling, I shoved all my thoughts about Leah into the corner of my mind. Though I was in my hometown, I was still surrounded by people. I’d learned the hard way to keep my emotions in check when in public.
Sharon put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at the girl. “Beth Ann, I know you are not talking back to me.”
Beth Ann’s eyes widened, and she scurried away with one last reluctant look at me. The rest of the crowd dispersed, as well, most of them heading toward the exit. Then Sharon’s gaze landed on me, and I had to do my best not to squirm as memories of being chewed out while working one summer as a busboy came to mind.
“Hi, Miss Sharon.” I used the tone reserved for talking to reporters and other people I wanted to win over. Which apparently doesn’t include record execs.
“Don’t use that sugar tone with me. You can’t sweeten me up.” She shook her head. “Figures the first thing you do when you come back in town is cause a ruckus in my diner.”
“I’d hardly consider this a ruckus,” Tyler protested.
Sharon poked a bony finger in his direction. “Don’t try me, Tyler. You might be an officer of the law, but I changed your diapers.”
Tyler sank lower in the booth, his shoulders hunched. “That was, like, twice,” he muttered. I would have laughed, but I couldn’t be sure she hadn’t changed my diapers too. Sharon was an institution in that town.
“Hmph.” Sharon turned on her heel and strode away.
Shaking her head, a server stepped up to our table and pulled an order pad out of her apron. I didn’t recognize her, but Tyler seemed to. Her name tag read “Tamara.
” “Don’t mind her,” she said. “She just quit cigarettes yesterday.”
“Damn it,” Tyler said. “That needs to come with a warning label.”
“I know, right? What can I get you to drink?”
Tyler ordered a soda, and I did the same, though I really could have used a beer. I’d gone straight to Aunt Rose’s house when I got into town, but she wasn’t home. I hadn’t warned her I was coming because I didn’t trust her not to try sweeping how dire her circumstance was under the rug. So I’d called Tyler, and he’d met me at the diner.
I looked across the table at my friend. In high school, his hair had been long, but it was cut close to his scalp in a military style. He’d also finally lost the baby weight that had clung to him through his teen years and put on pounds of solid muscle. The real kicker was the police uniform, though. I would never get used to that.
But I’d changed, too, for better or worse.
“Did you catch the guy?” I asked.
Tyler looked confused.
“The guy who vandalized the Stop & Shop.”
“It’s not a guy. It’s a woman,” Tyler grumbled. “Or at least that’s what we suspect. They’re the worst when it comes to this kind of thing.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
“Ain’t that the truth. You see Rose yet?”
I shook my head. “She wasn’t home.”
“Oh yeah, I guess she wasn’t. I forgot it’s bowling night.”
“What?”
“There’s a ‘golden league’ at the bowling alley.”
“That place was barely in business when I was here.”
Tyler leaned back so Tamara could place our drinks in front of us. “Joe started the senior league as a last-ditch effort to save the place, and it took off. Even my grandma goes.”
“Oh Lord, have mercy.” Tamara rolled her eyes. “My grandma goes, too—she’s on the Giggling Grannies team—and I get to hear all about the geriatric hookups. Did you know—”
Tyler put his hands up to cut her off. “I probably do not know, and I think I’m okay with that.”
Tamara winked at him. “Smart man. You can never unhear those sorts of things. Now, what can I get you?”
Leah
Even though my car was parked on the side of the road, my fingers still gripped the steering wheel. After nearly running a red light because I was so distracted, I’d stopped to collect myself.
That wasn’t me. I didn’t lose composure and run out in the middle of my shift. Of course, Gabe had never come in during my shift either.
Damn him. Except I couldn’t really be angry with him. If anyone deserved my wrath, it was Tyler. In high school, he’d been more Gabe’s friend than mine, but that had changed when Gabe left. Tyler knew I was working. What the hell was he thinking, bringing Gabe to the diner? Granted, there were limited dining options in Cedar Creek, but still.
Banging my head on the steering wheel, I groaned. I hoped my antics hadn’t lost me my job. The chance of finding another job with a schedule that allowed me to continue cleaning houses and taking classes was slim. Hell, the chances of finding any job in town had been slim ever since Cedar Home Manufacturing closed its factory fifteen years before. Even at a young age, I could feel the despair from the folks who had lost their jobs. At least half the families in town had been affected. Cedar Creek’s economy never recovered.
I would grovel. Sharon would forgive me. She had to, because I had no other option.
I was going to rip Tyler a new one when I saw him, the big jerk. As a rule, we didn’t talk about Gabe, but he should have known it was a bad idea to spring him on me like that.
Sighing, I shifted the car into Drive and eased back onto the road. If I stayed parked on the side of the road for too long, I’d be seeing Tyler sooner than I wanted to. Cedar Creek residents took their neighborhood watches seriously.
I got halfway down the block before having second thoughts and pulling over again. Before I could overthink it, I pulled out my phone and dialed the diner.
Sharon picked up. “Cedar Creek Diner.”
“It’s Leah.” Then I stopped. Perhaps I should have given a little more thought to what I would actually say. “I’m sorry.”
“Uh-huh.” Sharon dragged out the word slowly, as if it were an exhale of her beloved cigarette smoke.
“I shouldn’t have run out like that. It was unprofessional.”
Sharon cackled. “Unprofessional? Oh, hon. That’s the best one I’ve heard all day. The diner is a business, but we’re not exactly professionals.”
“Either way, it was wrong for me to run out.” Since my heart had stopped pounding and adrenaline had released its hold on my body, mortification had set in. Even if I managed to avoid Gabe while he was in town for what I hoped was just a short visit, I’d have to face my coworkers at the diner, the regulars, and whoever else had borne witness to my overblown reaction. The one person I wasn’t worried about was Tyler because he’d already seen me at my worst—he’d been there for me after Gabe left.
Exhaling, I tried to pull my head out of my ass. I generally wasn’t prone to overreacting, but that seemed to be all I was capable of that evening. Most people probably hadn’t noticed me. Everyone had been too busy gawking at Gabe.
“It was,” Sharon drawled.
“I can come back and finish my shift,” I offered, hoping she didn’t fire me but also hoping she didn’t take me up on it. I’d always figured I would have to face Gabe again one day, but I didn’t want it like that, when I was already ashamed and wearing my stained diner uniform. Again, I was probably placing too much importance on myself. He’d moved on. The pictures of him and various starlets that were always popping up in the tabloids were evidence of that. I didn’t have any claim on him or even the right to be jealous, not after what I’d done to him.
It was for his own good.
But either way, he probably didn’t particularly want to see me either. Or maybe he was indifferent. That thought stung, and I couldn’t decide if that was better than him hating me.
“Don’t bother,” Sharon said.
My shoulders slumped, and I waited for her to tell me when I could pick up my final paycheck. Damn it.
“You’re cleaning out the deep freezer after your next shift. I’m talking elbow grease and a toothbrush.”
I grinned, grateful I wasn’t fired. “That’s fair.”
“Bring your own toothbrush.” Then she hung up.
I rolled my shoulders. Sharon could be gruff, but she was a good boss. Mostly.
Pulling back onto the road again, I vowed to make the grimy deep freezer shine.
Gabe
As great as it was to catch up with Tyler, I was anxious to lay eyes on Aunt Rose, so I didn’t linger after we finished eating. Plus, I was exhausted by the effort it took to keep my emotions off my face. Leah had always said I wore my emotions on my sleeve.
Damn it.
When I first left Cedar Creek, she’d been all I could think about, so I’d doubled down on my music, which meant that in a way, I had Leah to thank for my success. She’d inspired more songs than I cared to admit, making my thoughts of her nearly impossible to escape. Partying became my respite, which resulted in the aforementioned glory of my ass cheeks appearing in the tabloids. Sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll was a cliché for a reason.
Eventually, the partying took its toll on the thing I cared about most, my music. After a hard night of drinking, my voice was shit in the studio, which had been the wake-up call I’d needed. Not that I rode the straight and narrow all the time, but it was rare that I went on a bender, and I definitely kept my ass cheeks to myself.
I braked in front of Aunt Rose’s house, irritation rising at the sight of the empty driveway and dark windows. She was sick. She should have been home, resting, not gallivanting around town.
I had two choices—wait there or go and find her. I’d never been a patient man.
Remembering Tyler’s guess ab
out where she was, I headed in the direction of the bowling alley. The parking lot was filled with old-people cars, mostly aged Buick and Cadillac sedans. I scanned the space and found Aunt Rose’s beat-up Nissan in the corner. I sighed. I’d tried buying her a new car, but she’d refused. Stubborn old bat.
Even though it was warm, I shrugged into a hoodie. After the spectacle I’d created at the diner, I thought I’d try the incognito approach. Tucking my hands into my pockets and keeping my head down, I walked into the bowling alley. It was exactly as I remembered it, right down to the nicotine stains on the ceiling tiles, left over from when it was still legal to smoke indoors. The only difference was that the room was packed. Every lane was occupied by a group of seniors. I whistled in appreciation as one elderly man cast his walker aside and bowled a perfect strike. I’d never bowled a strike in my life—to be fair, though, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been bowling.
I skulked around the edge of the room, trying to be inconspicuous as I searched for Aunt Rose. Trouble was, the place was crawling with gray-haired old ladies wearing bowling shirts. I hadn’t realized we had so many geriatrics in Cedar Creek. Maybe they bussed them in from the nursing home in the next county over.
I finally caught sight of her in lane two, retrieving a hot-pink bowling ball from the ball return. I squinted at the back of her shirt, trying to make out the team name. Boomer Babes.
A bald man approached her and put his hand on the small of her back as he said something in her ear. Then, as she walked to the lane, he smacked her ass. Giggling, she playfully slapped his hand away.
If there had been one of those automatic hand sanitizer machines nearby, I would have stuck my face under it to sterilize my eyeballs. Jesus. Tamara must not have been joking about the senior shenanigans that went down on bowling night.
Aunt Rose threw a decent ball, or so I assumed, considering there was only one pin left standing. The bald man gave her a double thumbs up and left the seating area. As he limped past me, I caught a whiff of Bengay. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I stared after him as he returned to his own team, the Groovy Geezers.
Back To You (In Tune Book 1) Page 2