Page 40 of Tasty Cherry

“I’ll know for when the next guest asks.”

“You can always ask old Bertie if you need.”

“Thank you. Especially for watching out for me.”

He leads me back out to the lobby, where Jessica is waiting on a family. “We all need a little looking after here and there.”

“You think these rumors about Sebastian will go away?”

His lips tighten. “That’ll be up to the two of you. If you keep looking at each other the way you are now, then there’s going to be no end to the talk.”

I know exactly what he means.

The trouble is, I don’t know how to stop.

16

SEBASTIAN

When I get home in the evening, I feel exhausted from the day in a way that isn’t usual.

I sit on the sofa, a beer bottle in hand, trying to shake my unease.

Arya comes in with an armful of slippery plastic packages, leaving a trail of them behind her.

“You’re molting,” I tell her.

Alfalfa sniffs at the packets, then flops on his bed by the fireplace.

“I know. I have to prep the craft for tomorrow’s class.” She dumps the packages on the coffee table and retraces her steps, picking up the ones she dropped.

I lean forward and turn one around. Inside is a piece of thick paper covered in rainbows with dots of dry paint that the kids will spread with wet brushes. I remember doing similar art when we were young.

“Need help?” I ask her.

“No, I want to put a couple of stickers in each packet.” She adds to her stack. “Why the dark circles under your eyes? Trouble sleeping?”

“Long day.”

“How did it go with Walk of Shame Girl?” I told Arya about Mila at the restaurant last night.

“Rough. I think everybody knows something happened between us.”

Arya pries open a packet and drops two smiley cloud stickers into it before sealing it shut again. “It’s a big hotel. How did you even see her?”

“Raya assigned her to the front desk, and you know how Mondays are. A big exodus. We all ended up working closely for hours.”

“Yikes. Did you talk?”

“Not alone. I escaped as soon as I could.”

She opens another packet. “And that stressed you out?”

“That and Maverick.”

“Oh. Him.”

Arya is not a fan of Maverick. He was the bane of her existence growing up when Uncle Roger would bring his nephew to barbecues and birthday parties. She’s only a year older than him, and he gave her hell.

---