Her Independence Day
Page 23
I snatched the cookie out of her hand and took a bite myself. “Not everyone deals with breakups by becoming a Tinder Queen.”
“Speaking of…” Simone got out her phone, then held it my way. “Check that out.”
Her May calendar was basically a grid of black times and multicolored names. Although the times only spanned weekdays, the names crammed nearly every square there was, many with two or even three per.
“How?” was all I could say.
“Careful planning, girlfriend,” Simone said.
I smirked.
“Can’t see how you even have time to pee, with a schedule that insane.”
“Oh, I can pee,” Simone said matter-of-factly, grabbing the cookie back and taking another bite.
“But still…”
“I do end up canceling on a few,” Simone admitted with a reflective smile.
I looked away, shaking my head. “Yeah, still way too much. Besides, these men-less past six months have been good for me. I got this new job-”
“Met me,” Simone agreed, suddenly darting up on tiptoes. “Table three needs you.”
No sooner had I turned to go than did she grab my arm. “Hang on just one hot minute.”
Scanning my face with a concentrated frown, she brushed at my chin, then nodded expertly.
“Got the crumb - you’re good now.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re whale-come.”
I paused, glaring at her. “Don’t even.”
She pointed behind me with an evil grin. “Table three whaley needs you.”
“Whale, thanks for that,” I said, rolling my eyes and hurrying off.
Table three just needed ketchup, as it turned out, while I was way overdue for a break. Walter’s policy was: don’t bother, unless you’re about to pee your pants or keel over from hunger. But after seven hours on my feet and barely any sleep, I was going to give my legs a break.
Simone managed to slip in the back as I sat there. “Still so bummed my shift ends at seven. Otherwise I could go join your hot cop date.”
“It’s not a date,” I said. “And I can wait.”
She shook her head. “Whitestone Lanes is all the way in Flushing. No way I could get there in time.””
At my raised brows, she said huffily, “Of course I Googled it.”
“Don’t you have like, seven Tinder dates then anyway?”
“Now that you mention it,” Simone checked her phone, nodded. “I do have two.”
“And you look thrilled about it.”
Simone shrugged. “I’ve been to Wildair four times by now. The waiters all know me by name.”
“Everyone knows you by name.”
“Yes, yes,” Simon said dismissively, as if it made no difference in the world that she was such a chatterbox that she’d befriended everyone on the floor of her apartment, all the cashiers at the grocery store, and a bunch of our regulars.
As if on cue, someone knocked on the glass and Simone brightened, waving.
Once they were gone, though, she joined my scowl. “Damn Walter.”
He was the one who’d actually had windows installed in the break room, so that employees could never feel at ease, never knowing when he might saunter by, grinning in that used-car salesman way of his.
“So you have to tell me everything that goes down tonight,” Simone continued, somehow another cookie in hand, taking a bite out of it.
“You mean the thrilling tale of how he hands over my wallet, I say thanks and leave?”
“I mean, whether you make up your mind when you see all three of them there and what happens when you figure out you need to get laid.”
“Yeah, sure, will do.”
Although really her words were buzzing around in my head. Although it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen good-looking guys in the past six months, it felt like I was awakening from a hibernation. Like the attraction I had for them was on a different plane from normal, one that moved directly from mind to body, took over both.
I scowled. Whatever. It didn’t matter. This year, I’d promised myself, was for my career. No more wasting time. Although Simone was right, I hadn’t been honest about why nothing could happen with them…
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