“How’s it going?” Bill asked. Somehow he’d sneaked up behind her, so close to her that she could smell his tobacco breath. “You got this under control?”
“Sure. Is our bacon nitrate-free?”
“Who the hell wants to know?” Bill asked.
Before Isabel could formulate an answer, Evan swooped in. “Those women at table twelve wanted me to tell you to forget the bacon, just do avocado,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “And the pretzel bread.”
Oh my god, I love you, she thought. “Oh,” she said casually. “Perfect.”
Bill grunted and stalked off toward the kitchen, leaving them alone.
“Um, did they say what their order was by any chance?”
“Cobb salad and the pasta special. Which is vegan, by the way.”
“Thank you,” she said, and let out a deep breath. “This is so crazy. I feel like I’m at war.”
“It’ll be over soon,” he said. He put a hand on Isabel’s shoulder, and she almost jumped from the electricity that shot down her arm. “And you’re doing great. My first day doing this I almost dropped a bowl of chili in somebody’s lap.”
Isabel laughed.
“As long as you don’t scorch anyone’s balls, I’d say you’re crushing this.”
“Thanks,” she said, still aware of his hand on her arm.
“What do you say to some ice cream when we’re done?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Sounds good.”
Before she could say anything, he bolted in the direction of a table. She watched him check in on a couple of customers, feeling a new burst of energy. He likes me, she thought. He definitely likes me.
“Hey, Amelia,” Rory said, wheeling her chair far enough out of her cubicle so she could see Amelia huddled over her cell phone, furiously texting someone. A tall iced coffee sat on her desk, slowly creating a puddle. “Amelia. Hey.”
Amelia put down her phone and looked over her shoulder. “What’s up?”
“I just watched your short.”
Amelia’s quizzical face relaxed into a smile. “Yeah?”
“It’s really good.”
Amelia got up from her chair, took Rory’s arm, and walked her into an empty conference room down the hall. She shut the door. “You think so?” she asked. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how you did that. The editing’s awesome.”
“It’s just Final Cut Pro.”
“I couldn’t make anything look that good on Final Cut Pro.”
“Sure you could.” She folded her arms. “Do you think I have a shot?”
“I would say you do. But I haven’t seen all of them.”
Rory didn’t want to say that she hadn’t expected much when she clicked on Amelia’s film a few minutes before. But almost as soon as Amelia’s film started, she found herself waking up—and forgetting the hour and a half of terrible, muddled, badly edited rip-offs of Godard and Scorsese and Spielberg and Rohmer that she’d just sat through.
“I love how simple the story is,” she said. “The little girl trying to find the flower she dropped in Central Park. It’s so cute. And so beautifully shot. And I love that you didn’t even need to use dialogue. So many of these other films are so cluttered with stuff. They’re hard to watch.”
“So you think I should say something?” Amelia asked breathlessly. “ ’Cause I’ve been trying to get up the guts for days.”
Rory thought for a moment. “Let me say something to Nina. That way you don’t have to speak for yourself.”
“Really?” Amelia exclaimed. “Oh my god. That would be so cool of you.”
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think it was good.”
“And hey, if there’s anything I can do for you—”
“It’s really nothing,” Rory said. “Let me see what happens.”
Nina was alone in her office, going through a pile of what looked like gilt-edged invitations. Rory knocked on the door.
“Yes, Rory?” Nina said, smoothing her dark hair.
“Hope I’m not interrupting, but I just saw a short I really liked. I think it would be a great option for the last slot.”
Nina touched her fingers to her forehead, as if she were warding off a headache. “Yeah? Which one is it?”
“Flower Child by Amelia Daniels. She’s actually an intern here.”
Nina looked up. “She is?”
“She sits next to me. I think she’s Luis’s intern. But of all the ones I’ve seen, it’s definitely the best. I was really impressed.”
“Huh,” Nina said, playing with a gold bangle around her wrist. “I’ll have to look at it. And by the way, I have a question.” Nina cocked her head. “Do you think the Rules would be interested in being on our board?”
“The Rules?” she asked, slightly blindsided.
“Well, I know that they’re big supporters of the arts, and I’m thinking, what if we were to invite them to the opening night party? It’s going to be a very star-studded crowd. I can put them at Alec and Hilaria’s table.”
“Alec and Hilaria?” Rory asked.
“Alec Baldwin and his wife,” Nina said testily. “If they care about that sort of thing. I mean, I can seat them anywhere they like. And if they have a good time, then maybe they’d want to be involved with the festival on a more regular basis. What do you think?”
Rory hesitated. There was something manipulative about this. Now the comments Luis had made the day before about knowing the Rules made sense. “I’m not sure what sorts of… causes they’re into. But I can check.” As soon as she said it, she knew that it had been a mistake.
“Great,” Nina said. “And I’ll take a look at Amelia’s short. You did say it was Amelia’s, right?”
“Right.”
When Rory got back to her desk, Amelia was waiting for her with an expectant look on her face. “So? What’d she say?”
“She said she’d watch it.”
Amelia stood up and threw her arms around Rory. “Thank you!” she shrieked. “Oh my god. That’s amazing. Can I buy you lunch? Or anything you want?”
“All I did was say that I liked it,” Rory said. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high.”
“Oh please,” Amelia said, waving her off. “I’m just so happy I didn’t have to say something myself. I hate having to push myself onto people. The world’s most overpriced turkey sandwich is on me, ’kay?”
Rory shrugged. She felt uneasy, but she wasn’t sure why. “Sure.”
At three forty-five, the last two customers finally paid their check and walked out the door, and Isabel leaned against the bar, breathing a great sigh of relief. Her feet ached as if she’d run a marathon barefoot, and her arms felt rubbery from carrying so many trays. But the day had been a triumph. Only two people had complained about her to Bill, and to her enormous surprise she hadn’t dropped anything, except a leather checkbook holding several credit cards that had gone flying under different tables.
Bill ambled over to her. “So, you can’t take an order to save your life, and you seriously pissed off one of our best customers,” he said, shoving a stack of trays on the bar, “but all in all, you did okay.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“So, take this again,” he said, giving her the menu once more. “And actually look at it this time.”
“Okay.”
Bill shook his head at her apparent idiocy and walked away.
“Good job, rookie,” Evan said, his eyes lit up and smiling. “Not that I didn’t think you could handle it, but not having any time to actually train… I’m impressed.”
“I told you I was a quick study,” she said.
“Yeah, you definitely are.” He paused a moment, studying her face. “So. What’ll it be? Chocolate-chip ice cream or a shot of vodka?”
“What about both?” she joked. She flashed him her biggest smile. She wasn’t sure whether it was the way he was looking at her or the immense relief coursing through her body, but suddenly she wante
d to grab Evan and kiss him right here and now.
“First, lemme show you how to clock out,” he said, taking her hand.
She slid her hand into his. “So someone is actually showing me how to do something around here?” she teased.
“Believe it or not.”
He pulled her toward the back of the restaurant, past the kitchen and the line cooks cleaning up. Bill seemed to be in his office with his door closed. A small room marked STAFF ONLY was right off the hall. They stepped inside. She’d been inside the staff room for a few minutes before the start of lunch service. It was a tiny room, only big enough to hold a narrow bench, a few lockers, and a clumsy-looking machine on the wall with an old-fashioned clock built into it.
“Which slip is yours?” Evan asked, gesturing to the row of slips slotted into tiny cubbies next to the machine.
Isabel leaned in close to him as she pulled out her slip. Her arm brushed his, sending a small shock through her system.
“Okay, you dip it into the machine,” he said. “Here, I’ll show you,” he said, taking it from her. As his fingers touched hers, she couldn’t resist holding on to the slip, allowing their hands to make contact for as long as possible. She looked up at him, holding her breath.
He smiled and leaned in closer to her. When his lips pressed against hers, soft and rough at the same time, she remembered all that she’d been missing these past nine months.
Dry spell officially over, she thought, as her hands circled his neck.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As soon as she could hear Rory’s dilapidated car chugging its way up the gravel drive, Isabel sprang from her chaise by the pool, shoved her feet into her flip-flops, and ran to the back door.
“Hey,” Rory said, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you,” Isabel said, grabbing Rory’s arm and dragging her into the house. “Right now.”
“Can I at least go to the bathroom?” Rory asked.
“No,” Isabel said, dragging Rory down the hall to her room. She opened Rory’s door and ushered them both inside.
“Okay,” Rory said, sitting down on her bed and kicking off her flats. “What the hell happened?”
“I kissed someone,” Isabel said. “That guy I told you about. We kissed.” She let out a small shriek.
Rory jumped. “Okay,” she said tentatively. “That’s good.”
“God, I feel like such a dork,” Isabel said. “Look at me. It’s like I’m in sixth grade all over again. But I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“All right, back up. Start at the beginning. I thought you had work today.”
“I did,” Isabel said, tossing some hair over her shoulder. “And you were right—waitressing is hell. But luckily, Evan—his name is Evan—he works there, too.”
Rory stopped massaging her heel. “Wait. Evan works at the restaurant? Is that why you got a job there? Because of him?”
“It’s not why I got a job there,” Isabel said, bristling at Rory’s tone. “But it’s where I got the idea. He was telling me how much fun it was to work there and how cool the people who worked there were, and I was totally looking for something to do anyway and—”
Rory put her head in her hands.
“What? What is that for?”
“Nothing,” Rory said, shaking her head. “Go on.”
“Anyway, so, I had this feeling that he liked me after our coffee date,” Isabel said, pacing the room, “which I haven’t even told you about, by the way, but it went really well, and then today, at work, which was a nightmare, he was so sweet and was constantly coming up to me and saving my butt—seriously—and then when lunch was finally over, and he was telling me how well I’d done, he took me into the back to show me how to clock out and he kissed me. Right there. Right in the back!”
Rory’s face was blank.
“And it was a really good kiss. You know, I wasn’t sure how it would be, or what would happen, but it was really good.”
“That’s great,” Rory said, her face still blank.
“Why aren’t you happy for me?” Isabel asked.
“I am happy for you,” Rory said, standing up. “I’m just letting it all sink in.” She went into the bathroom and emerged with a hairbrush in her hand.
“Thanks,” Isabel said. “Now I need you to meet him.”
“What?” Rory froze with the hairbrush in midair.
“Because what if he’s bad news and I can’t see it? Like Mike?”
Rory sat down on her perfectly made bed. “Don’t you think you’d be able to tell this time?”
“I don’t know.…” Isabel flopped down next to her. “I mean, I think I’d be able to tell now, but I don’t trust myself anymore. I need a second opinion.” She grabbed Rory’s arms. “Please? You saw through all of Mike’s stuff. Right from the beginning.”
“A blind man could have seen through Mike’s stuff from the beginning,” Rory answered. “Fine. When?”
“I was thinking tonight.”
“Tonight?” Rory blurted.
“Yeah. We sort of talked about that I might go see a movie and that if I’m still out then I might text him after he’s done with the dinner shift—”
“So we now have to go see a movie?” Rory asked.
“No, we can just say we did,” Isabel said. “Duh.” She stood up. “I’m gonna go lie down. See you in a bit.” She left Rory’s room, feeling slightly hurt that Rory was so averse to her plan. And it didn’t help that Rory had been so unexcited for her about the news. It was so unfair. Last summer she’d practically done a jig when Landon asked Rory out. She’d never pegged Rory as the competitive type.
But it didn’t matter, she thought, taking the stairs two at a time. So what if she felt like an amateur? It was fun to feel this excited again. There was life after Mike. She knew that there would be.
Rory carried her paper plate over to one of the booths and sat down. The pizza joint was almost empty of customers, except for her and Isabel and a couple in their twenties with a toddler asleep in a stroller. The neon clock on the wall read 9:25. A radio played classic rock from behind the counter, where one forlorn employee halfheartedly stretched some dough into a pie.
“Don’t you think this is going to look a little bit obvious?” Rory asked. “I feel like I’m wearing a sign on my chest that says SECOND OPINION.”
“He thinks we were hanging out anyway,” Isabel said, sitting across from her. She lifted a greasy slice to her lips for a tentative bite. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it.”
Rory shrugged and took a bite of her sausage and onion. As much as she wanted to help Isabel avoid another dating disaster, part of her wished she could have stayed at home. That way she and Connor might have been able to regroup after last night’s dinner. Connor had talked nonstop with his St. Paul friends and Rory had sat at the end of the table, trying to seem interested in the time Nico almost got suspended for throwing a party in her room, or the time Caleb snuck off campus to go to a Phish concert. When Connor finally noticed that she’d gotten quiet he tried to change the subject to Stanford, but it was so obvious it made her cringe. Don’t, she wanted to say. Don’t make it worse. Then Augusta interrupted and turned the subject back to St. Paul’s, which had almost been a relief.
When they left she kept waiting for him to say something like Hey, I’m sure that was kind of boring for you or I hope you didn’t feel left out or Sorry our romantic dinner got hijacked by my friends. But he only talked more about his friends and their boarding school misadventures until she began to think that she probably had no right to expect an apology. Lately things with Connor had gotten so confusing. There seemed be a disconnect between what she thought he might do, and what he actually did. She hadn’t remembered that being the case last summer.
At her door she’d kissed him good-night.
“Long day?” he’d asked, smiling.
“Yeah, really long,” she’d said, trying to smile back.
“Okay,” he’d said, and kissed her again. Then she’d gone inside and shut the door.
Now she wondered if a little time alone with him tonight would have erased last night from memory. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a chance to find out. Isabel, still hyped up from her big kiss, had hung out with them in the kitchen during dinner, and then had bluntly told Connor that he wasn’t invited along on this fact-finding mission.
Connor didn’t care. “You guys have a good time,” he said. “I’m going to go to bed early.”
“But we should be back in an hour,” Rory said. “You’re going to bed before then?”
“I’m gonna get up early in the morning and run,” he explained. “You guys have fun.” He kissed her on the cheek.
So two nights in a row of not being together, Rory thought. She hoped this guy Isabel was so crazy about was worth all this trouble.
“Oh, wait, here he is,” Isabel said, wiping her hands with a napkin.
Rory looked over at the door. A tall, slim guy with messy blondish-brownish hair walked into the restaurant. He had the gentle quality and slightly awkward gait of someone who’d always been taller than his friends, which was a point in his favor, Rory thought. As he approached their table, he smiled broadly. And he’s not afraid to show that he likes her, Rory thought. Another point in his favor.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” Isabel said and gave a short little wave. She seemed nervous. “How was the dinner shift?”
“Man, if you thought lunch today was bad,” he said to Isabel, sliding into the booth next to her, “tonight was like the Attack of the On-the-Siders. Everything on the side. I think Bill needs to rethink his sauces.” He gave Rory a friendly smile. “Hi,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Evan.”
“I’m Rory.” She shook his hand and became aware that he had very attractive green eyes.
“You guys just saw a movie?” Evan asked.
Rory and Isabel both nodded.
“Which one?”
Rory waited for Isabel to take the fib.
“That one with Tom Cruise,” Isabel answered vaguely.
“Oh yeah? Was it good?” Evan asked.
Since Last Summer Page 8