Page 62 of Devious Gambit

Annoyingly, I was blinded by my feelings for Mr. Ed. I could only see him and no one else. I was completely aware that I was setting myself up for a fall, yet the thought of him coming over tonight filled me with joy and trepidation. I liked the man. I liked his body, his smile, his hands, his scent, his voice, his humor…hot dang…I obviously lost a few brain cells along the way, because I had a sneaky feeling I was about to be hoodwinked.

Me: I’ll make dinner.

SexEd: Risky.

Me: I promise I’ll refrain from using arsenic.

SexEd: So kind.

Me: I’ll ring when I get home from work around 3.30pm

Mom: The kids will be coming home from school then. What about tonight?

Me: Got plans. But thinking about visiting him in the pen.

Mom: Talk to me first.

I paused to think it over before I answered. I really needed to talk to her, so I might do it with Mr. Ed there. Not ideal.

Me: Ok. I’ll ring you tonight about 8pm.

Mom: Make it 9pm, after the kids have gone to bed.

Me: 9pm it is.

Me: I’m so sorry, I’m busy tonight.

Hayden: When are you free next?

Again I had to pause to think this one over. It would be nice to catch up with Hayboy.

Me: Saturday night?

Mr. Ed would be either partying to celebrate a win, or getting drunk to grieve a loss. Either way, I wouldn’t be invited to his jock/cheerleader/sleasy gathering, because I’m not part of his tribe. Besides, I’d hate it with a vengeance and likely leave two minutes after I got there.

My break was over and I stepped back inside Stads to clean the tables and fill the salt and sugar containers on each table. Larry had gone into the office out the back to do some paperwork, leaving only Lise, Gretta and me in the restaurant. It was the in between time, when lunch was over and it was too early for dinner. There were three tables with patrons on them and a few takeaways served, but mostly it was slow going.

“Hi Rhys,” a quiet voice spoke to me as I bustled past a table of three female students.

“Oh hi,” I said back, not knowing which one spoke to me. I recognized two of them as fellow English Literature classmates, but had never spoken to them until now.

“Have you finished the assignment on The Canterbury Tales yet?” A girl with a bob of untamed dark curls, pulled back with a pink headband, spoke to me.

“It’s quite hard to read without the translation,” I admitted, “so it’s slowing me down a little.”

They all exchanged glances and smiled in agreement. We all had that in common, scaling the difficulties of interpreting the 15th century English language. “That is to seyn, that telleth in this caas…” one girl recited in a deliberately funny accent, and we laughed.

“My name’s Becca,” the girl with the curls introduced herself, holding out her hand for me to shake. “This is Janey and Chelsea,” pointing to the other two.

“I’m Rhys,” I said.

“Yeah, we know.”

“Oh right. How?”

“We share the same classes.”

“But I didn’t think anyone knew my name or noticed me.”

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