Page 86 of The Guy in the Alley

It was important to be confident, right?

Running a hand through my hair, I headed back out into the kitchen, and I made a beeline for the office. I just had to reapply some deodorant. We might have a lull in the service now, but it’d been a busy lunch rush.

I put on a new Clover tee while I was at it too, and then I had to read through our very brief chain of messages from today. To comfort myself—and to overanalyze.

He’d started it.

Cant stop thinking about a fucking Cubs fan.

He’d kept it light and funny, and I’d stupidly gone straight for matters of the heart.

That Cubs fan really liked it when u called him baby.

Luckily, his lunchtime response had unfrazzled most of my nerves.

Ill see you at five, baby.

“See? You got nothing to be nervous about,” I told myself. Except for the part where I really wanted Alvin and Elsie to like me.

Let’s charm the O’Clearys.

I left the office again and stopped by the kitchen. “Petey! We good on my Sox burn?”

He grinned. “Oh, absolutely. Everything will be ready in ten.”

Perfect. We couldn’t celebrate Ben’s birthday without taking a shot at the Sox.

I pushed the door open and spotted Ben next to the host’s desk right away. Since he’d picked up his family immediately after work, I didn’t have to feel bad about being in my work clothes too. And next to him, his mother and Alvin. The guy really took after his old man, only he was much shorter. He did look younger than his eighteen years; his features were still boyish but not overly so. He wore glasses too, and a curious expression.

I grabbed three menus from under the bar, then headed their way.

Don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous.

I was nervous.

As if on cue, I heard my sister making chicken noises in my head, and that actually helped. I’d never struggled to make friends. I was well-liked. Why wouldn’t Elsie like me? She looked like a sweet old lady. She kind of reminded me of my grandmother on Ma’s side. In appearance, at least. My grandma was a real introvert, and she only left her house in damn Milwaukee for Thanksgiving. But she was nice and looked the way a grandma should look, with the white hair, the big glasses, the glossy “but ergonomic” shoes, and the purse. Just like Elsie. She might even be shorter than Alvin.

Ben spotted me and fired off a sexy smirk, though I detected a hint of nerves too.

We were in this together, but I was going to let him lead the way. We’d barely talked, so I doubted he’d say anything about us to Elsie and Alvin.

That would be weird.

“Hey, guys,” I greeted with what I hoped was a charming smile. “Welcome to the Clover.”

“Alvin, Ma, I want you to meet Trace.” Ben took over the introductions. “Trace, this is my mother Elsie and my son Alvin.”

“It’s great to meet you both. Ben talks about you all the time.” I didn’t have to worry about social customs with Alvin; he stuck out his hand in a swift, almost militant move, and I shook his hand.

“Hi. You’re Dad’s friend,” he said. “He gets annoyed when Grandma asks questions about you.”

Oh really? I flicked a glance at Ben, who chuckled.

“And now I know why,” Elsie said with a quirk of her lips. “Nice to meet you, Trace.”

I shook her hand too. “You too, Mrs. O’Cleary?—”

“Oh, none of that. It’s Elsie. The Mrs. scares off potential suitors.”

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