Page 75 of Time for Change

With all-knowing eyes, she lifts her chin and answers, “Yes, please.” There’s a hint of defiance in her voice, but not enough for anyone else to pick up on it. Maybe I’m imagining it because I feel guilty. I have been running around with her dad when she’s not living with him, doing dirty deeds in practically every room—except the kids’ bedrooms—of their house.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” I state after Garreth walks off. “I’ll grab your refills.”

My heart is pounding in my chest as I leave to top off their drinks. I set Gianna’s glass in the dirty bin and head to the bar for a new one. Just as I get there, my phone vibrates.

Walker steps up to the bar with a smile.

“Another kiddie cocktail, please,” I tell him, digging my phone from my pocket and touching the screen to reveal Jack’s newest message.

Jack:Your ass looks so fucking hot in those pants, Sweets. I can’t wait to get my hands on it again.

I turn off the screen, hoping no one around me saw the naughty message from the man in the other room I’ve been sleeping with.

“Here ya go,” Walker says, placing the drink on my tray and flashing a quick smile.

I stop and grab a fresh glass of ice water and take both drinks to their table. “Two fresh drinks,” I say, setting them on the table. “How’s the food?”

Christian grins from ear to ear, ketchup smeared on both cheeks as he replies, “Good!”

Chuckling, I turn to Gianna. She’s not eating, just watching me intently. “How’s yours?”

“Fine,” she quickly replies, dipping one of her fries in a blob of ketchup and slowly chewing.

“It’s all delicious. Thank you, Stevie.”

I nod. “Well, holler if you need anything else.”

I spend the next fifteen minutes trying to avoid Jack’s table, all while continually stealing glances at it to make sure they’re doing okay. When they finally push their baskets back, I know they’re finished with their meals and it’s time for me to check them out.

“All done?” I ask when I reach the table.

“It was all great,” Jack says, reaching for Christian’s basket and stacking it on top of his. “Gi, hand me yours.”

“Why?” she asks, curiously.

“So it’s easier for Stevie to collect our dirty dishes. This way, they’re already stacked,” he informs his daughter.

Her eyes narrow once more. “We’ve never done that before.”

My heart rate kicks up as I watch their exchange.

“Maybe not, but we should. It’s the polite thing to do.”

She slowly hands over her mostly empty basket, her eyes racing to me. “Interesting,” she mutters while he takes the basket from her hand.

He turns and gives me a smile. “That’s all for tonight,” answering the unasked question about dessert. We don’t get too many ordering it, considering the meals are so hearty and filling, but it happens on occasion.

My throat is so dry, I can barely get my next words out. “I’ll be right back with your check.” Then I collect the baskets from the center of the table and take them to the dirty bin.

I quickly take care of the computer work, slipping the bill inside a black folder and retrieving an ink pen. “Here you are.” He pulls his wallet from his jeans and picks up the bill. When I return, the folder is positioned at the edge of the table, so I hurry off to run his card.

Once it’s complete, I drop the folder back at the table for him to sign and finish collecting the dirty glasses. “Thank you for dining with us this evening. Have a great night,” I tell them, offering a genuine, happy smile.

Jack does the same, our eyes lingering just a bit longer than appropriate. “You as well,” he replies, slipping his card back inside his wallet and signing his name.

“Bye, guys,” I say to the kids, earning a big cheeky grin and wave from Christian and another gaze of scrutiny from Gianna.

Is it just me or does she know everything?

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