by C. J. Birch
But in the end, he was right. She couldn’t give him up. She was a glutton for that one percent of love and affection he gave her. At night when she’d had a bad day, she swore he could sense it because he would nestle into her stomach and purr up a storm.
She rooted through her drawers for a clean bra, shoved her arms through it, and ran into the bathroom still zipping up the back of her uniform. She opted for the fastest hairstyle she knew how to perform, which was taking a hair elastic and pulling her hair back into a ponytail a few times until she got a messy bun. It was less neat than she liked, but she didn’t have time to comb her hair.
By the time she made it through the door, she was ten minutes late. Vic rushed past her as she entered. “I have to go. Jack didn’t pick up Megan, and she’s been sitting around waiting for someone to get her.”
Lauren stepped into the kitchen to hang her jacket on her hook. Ramiro was showing Hayley his fridge, something he took great pride in. Every new line cook and server got Ramiro’s mise-en-place speech.
“If everything has its place, it makes everything run fast and smooth because you always know where to find something if you run out or if you’re cleaning up after.” They both had their heads stuck in the giant fridge at the back.
Hayley was wearing grey skinny jeans that hugged her ass like they were tailored for her. As soon as Lauren realized what she’d been doing—checking out Hayley’s ass—she pulled her eyes up. Too late. Ramiro smirked and pointed at her as if to say, I saw that.
Lauren ignored him as she grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist, heading for the front.
* * *
By seven o’clock the place was pretty dead, which was unusual for this time of day. Lauren sent Luna home early and tried not to worry it was a trend. It could be the cold weather. Today the air had that hint of snow on the wind. Part of her was thrilled. She loved Christmas, but the end of October was way too early for it to snow, not that it hadn’t before. It just shouldn’t. She had definite ideas about when snow was allowed to show itself and when it should stay the hell away. The week before Christmas was acceptable, but the week before Halloween was not.
Lauren stepped into the kitchen to tell Hayley she could head home for the evening but stopped when she saw what they were doing. Ramiro was sitting on a box full of tomato sauce with his cast propped up on Hayley’s knee. She had a Sharpie in hand drawing an intricate design. Her whole face had transformed with intense concentration. Her lips were pursed, revealing two dimples, one on either side of her face. And every so often her nostrils would flare. She was so absorbed she obviously didn’t notice Lauren approach.
“Pollyanna’s tagging my cast.” He chucked a thumb toward Hayley with a face that said, Get a load of her.
“Okay. I give. Why Pollyanna?”
Ramiro stared at Lauren like she’d worn the day’s special instead of her uniform. “Hayley Mills? You never watched Pollyanna when you were a kid?”
Lauren shook her head.
“I worry about what kind of childhood you had.”
“What about the The Parent Trap?” asked Hayley.
Lauren stepped closer and peered down at Ramiro’s cast. What had looked like a geometric design turned out to be a giant dragon cooking a little mushroom guy in a frying pan. “The one with Lindsay Lohan?”
Hayley frowned. “No. The original, with Hayley Mills.”
“My family wasn’t big on movies when I was a kid.” Lauren pointed to the drawing. “That’s really good. Are you an artist?”
“Thanks. It’s Bowser cooking Toad on the grill.” She grinned. “I’m pretty good at copying stuff. Nothing serious.”
“When you’re done, you can head home.”
“Home?” Hayley looked like she’d just found out eggs were the by-product of a hen’s menstrual cycle.
“We’re dead out there. No need for both of you to stick around.”
Hayley nodded and returned to her drawing, but she seemed a lot less enthusiastic than Lauren would expect. Maybe it had something to do with money. Getting let go early would mean less hours and less money. Maybe she should’ve let Ramiro go early.
The bell rang, and she turned toward the front. It was too late now to change her mind. She’d give Hayley an extra shift next week to make up for it. Ezra never minded giving up a shift. He made money as a part-time DJ for his brother’s wedding-entertainment company.
Later, after Hayley had left, she went back to grab some scraps for Jerkface. “Can you make me up a doggie bag for Jerkface?” He went crazy for their haddock from the fish and chips (minus the deep-fried coating). They didn’t sell a lot of it, and the helpings were pretty big, so there was usually some left over from the day.
Ramiro pointed to the fridge. “I’ve already made a bag up. Is it really a doggie bag if it’s for a cat?”
Lauren opened the fridge and noticed the bag. He’d drawn a cat with whiskers on it. “A catty bag just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“True. And speaking of segues, what’s up with you and Hayley?”
Lauren turned around, almost dropping the bag of fish. “Me and Hayley?”
“Don’t give me that face. You were checking her out.”
“I was not.”
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Yuhuh.”
“I’m her boss.” It was the first thing that popped into her mind to say. Not, I don’t date women, or I’m not interested in women, even though those things were also true. Weren’t they?
Ramiro simply smirked and went back to wiping down the griddle.
Lauren shook her head and left the kitchen. Even if she were into Hayley, which she wasn’t, dating was so far off her radar at the moment. And she didn’t date people she worked with. She didn’t date women.
Ramiro stuck his head through the window between the kitchen and the front. “Admit it, though. You think she’s hot.”
“Hot? Not the word I’d use.”
“Granted she’s not conventionally good looking, but even you have to admit she’s cute.”
Lauren began pulling the condiments from the booths, getting ready to close for the evening. “Why do you care so much what I think of her?”
“When was the last time you even dated? I’m just worried you’re too focused on work and your dad. It doesn’t have to be Hayley, but maybe you should let Lucy hook you up with someone.”
“The last time Lucy hooked me up with someone, I was so bored I finally understood the phrase ‘chew your own leg off.’”
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
Lauren placed a tray of salt and pepper shakers on the counter in front of her. “He spent most of the night talking about his hobbies, one of which included extreme ironing.”
“What—”
“Apparently you iron things in extreme places like on a raft in the middle of a river or while rock climbing.”
He mimed plugging in something. “How—”
“I don’t know. I didn’t let it get that far. It would’ve given the false impression I was interested.”
“So you gave up?” Ramiro hobbled out into the front and took a seat on one of the stools. “You’re not still—”
“No,” she said loudly, waving him off. “I’m not hung up on Ben. I’m just…” She shrugged and took a seat on the stool across from him. She played with one of the napkins, looking for a way to put into words what she felt. It had been years since her divorce from Ben. The heartbreak—his—had been too much for her to take, so she’d decided not to date until she was sure what she wanted.
“I’m tired of going through the motions.” She gazed back up at him. “I’m waiting for the jolt, the one that says this is the one we’ve picked out for you.”
Ramiro turned on his stool, spinning back and forth. “You believe in that shit?”
She leaned over and punched him lightly on the arm. “Yes.” She laughed. “I do. And so do m
ost people. They’re just afraid to admit it, especially in this city. It doesn’t mean I think it’ll last forever, but there’s someone out there for me.”
“And if it never happens? You’re just going to live alone for the rest of your life?”
“I’m not alone. I have Jerkface.”
* * *
It was well after ten by the time Lauren made it upstairs to her apartment. She’d scrubbed the bathroom extra hard since she knew Luna hadn’t the night before. As soon as she opened the door, Jerkface’s accusing eyes were staring up at her. “Rats. Sorry, Jerkface. I forgot your scraps. Tomorrow, I promise.”
He turned, strutting away, and flicked his tail at her, usually a sign she’d committed a cardinal sin. Lauren groaned. She had two choices. She could either spend the night with a pissed-off cat, who, on a good day, was temperamental, or go back down to the diner and get his scraps. He jumped up on the counter and hissed at her.
“You know what, mister. I’m not going to let you bully me into giving you your way. You’re just going to have to be happy with tuna from a can tonight. Deal with it.” She discarded her jacket and flicked off her Merrells. The kitchen was still a mess from her earlier project. She spent the next twenty minutes cleaning up and opening a can of tuna for Jerkface. He sniffed at it, then swatted it way.
She shrugged and went into her bedroom to change into sweats. At least three episodes of The Great British Bake Off were waiting for her on her PVR, as was a glass of pinot.
Wine in hand, her feet up on the coffee table, she clicked on the TV, and Jerkface jumped up on the console. He paced from one end of the TV to the other, blocking her view. When Lauren tried to remove him, he hissed again and swatted at her.
“You are evil. I don’t know why I put up with you.” But that was a lie. She couldn’t throw him out. No one else would want him. He was too much of a jerk. “Fine. You win. I’ll go get your stupid scraps.”
She jammed her feet back into her Merrells and threw on a jacket. She pulled the keys for the diner from her pocket and slammed the door behind her. He was getting more impossible to live with. At least she didn’t have to go far.
The night air bit at Lauren’s face as she descended the stairs at the back of the building. She wrapped her jacket tighter. A mama raccoon and three babies darted across the alley in front of her. Like Jerkface, she hissed at them. The bane of her existence. Two years ago they’d somehow found a way into the narrow space between the walls from the roof and used some of the wiring for nests. Aaron had been furious at the cost of the repairs, like it had been Lauren’s fault the building was slowly falling apart. It was over a hundred and fifty years old now. Maybe that’s why Aaron had wanted it inspected, because he was assessing repairs. Maybe the Leafs would win the playoffs this year.
She unlocked the door and disabled the alarm before it started squawking at her. She knew her way around this place so well she didn’t even bother turning on the lights, plus, the lights from the streetlamps were enough to give her a hint of where everything was.
On her way out of the kitchen, she stopped cold. Out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen something move, and when she slowly turned her head to the end booth, she noticed a sizeable lump on the bench.
Lauren searched for something to use as a weapon, but all she could find was a roll of Saran Wrap from under the counter. She raised it like a bat ready to swing and approached the lump.
She almost dropped the roll when she saw the blue hair peeking out from under the blanket. It was Hayley. What the hell was she doing sleeping in the diner? And how the hell had she gotten in?
Chapter Thirteen
Hayley jerked awake and screamed. Startled, Lauren screamed too.
“What are you doing in here?” Lauren dropped the Saran Wrap to her side. “How did you even get in?”
Hayley sat up, pulling the blanket with her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to sleep in the park.”
Lauren remembered her asking for an advance a couple of days ago. “Why would sleeping in the park even be an option? Where were you staying?”
Hayley scrambled off the bench. “At the Palace Arms.”
“That place is a crack den.”
“It is not.” Hayley snatched her backpack from the booth and began stuffing her blanket and other belongings in it. “I’ll admit it’s not ideal, but it was all I could afford. I just moved here, and I don’t know a lot of people.” Her eyes filled with tears.
For the moment Lauren wasn’t concerned with why it should bother her that Hayley had been staying in that hellhole. All that mattered now was making sure she had somewhere to go tonight, and then they could figure things out tomorrow. “You can’t sleep here.”
“I know. Don’t worry. I’m going.” A tear spilled down her face, and she swiped it away.
Lauren grabbed Hayley’s arm, stopping her from rushing out. “I’m not kicking you out on the street. I’d be the biggest jerk in the world if I did that.”
Hayley stopped and looked around, obviously confused. “You’re not?”
“I have a spare room upstairs you can use until we find you somewhere more suitable.”
Without any warning Hayley burst into tears and threw her arms around Lauren’s neck. A thank-you might have been thrown in there, but Lauren couldn’t be sure because her world had suddenly gone white. It had been a long time since she’d hugged anyone, like really hugged them. Hayley was warm and soft, and she smelled like Dove soap and baked bread, two of Lauren’s favourite scents.
She rubbed Hayley’s back in slow, comforting strokes, feeling the impressions of her spine through her sweater. They stood like that for several minutes, pressed together, until Hayley pulled away before it got awkward.
“I’m sorry,” Hayley said. “God, this is embarrassing. It’s just been a really hard few months. My first week in the city I got laid off from the job I had lined up, and then I couldn’t find another one. And things just sort of snowballed from there. And then my rent got stolen….” She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and took an unsteady breath.
Lauren reached over and removed a few napkins from the dispenser on the counter and handed them to Hayley. “Here. Geez. You sure are one for keeping things close to your chest.”
Hayley shrugged and blew her nose. “I didn’t want to bring everyone down. I mean, it didn’t seem so bad at first, but everything kept getting slightly worse, until all of a sudden I was homeless and sleeping in a booth at work.” She laughed, the sound slow at first, and then it bubbled up until it echoed through the empty diner. “Sorry,” she said when she could breathe. “I also laugh at inappropriate times.”
Lauren picked up Hayley’s backpack. “Come on. I was just about to watch The Great British Bake Off with a glass of wine.”
“Both of those things sound amazing.”
Lauren slung Hayley’s backpack over one shoulder and grabbed Jerkface’s scraps off the counter, where she’d left them. A part of her wondered if she should be worried about letting an almost-stranger into her home. After all, what did she really know about Hayley? But that part was swallowed up by the majority of her, which believed this was not only the right thing to do, but also something she had to do for so many reasons she couldn’t name.
* * *
Hayley opened her eyes to find two yellow-greenish slits staring at her from across her pillow and a furry paw resting on her lip. The sun cut a sharp line across its fur. Shocked, Hayley didn’t move. Lauren had mentioned she had a cat the night before, but said cat had streaked for Lauren’s bedroom the moment Hayley had appeared.
Lauren had offered her a glass of wine, but she’d been so exhausted, and the thought of a real bed after sleeping on that bench was too tempting. She’d passed on both the wine and the indulgent TV.
Hayley hated cats.
They were assholes who didn’t give a shit about anyone but themselves. They didn’t play fetch or come when you called, and when you made it home from a long
day, they didn’t rush you at the door. If they deigned to appear at all, it was because they were hungry or thirsty. She’d had several exes who would argue all those points, but she’d never met a cat who wasn’t evil through and through.
But how to extract herself from this situation without getting swatted? Hayley blinked a few times, and the cat refused to budge. Hayley inched backward. The paw stayed on her lip, and almost in slow motion, the claws extended. She ducked, but not fast enough to stop her lip from getting caught. The sharp claw ripped through her bottom one.
“Shit.” Hayley scrambled off the bed and out of the room faster than she could remember ever moving.
Lauren was in the kitchen making coffee and wearing a very thin, very short, black robe, revealing long, muscular legs. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, and even though she didn’t wear a lot of makeup, seeing her like this made her look even more pale.
Hayley averted her eyes from the welcoming sight. More than ever she had to tamp down this crush. Lauren was her boss and apparently her new temporary roommate.
“I met your cat.”
Lauren turned to Hayley, who was still in the ratty sweats she’d been wearing last night. The cougar that adorned the bottom half had faded, and the C and P from Casper Falls had been torn off at one point, so it looked like it said AS ER FALLS COUGARS along the neckline.
“Oh no,” Lauren said as she noticed Hayley’s lip. “That’s Jerkface.” She grabbed a few sheets of Kleenex and handed them to Hayley.
“Jerkface?” Hayley dabbed at her lip. “Then you’re aware of its—”
“Poor behaviour and manners in general? Yes, my cat is a jerk, but I can’t give him up.” She shrugged as if it were obvious why. “I’m sorry he attacked you.”