Page 22 of Midnight Oil

Suzy took a deep breath. "My mom's. For as long as I can take it, anyhow."

I picked up the duffle and carried it out of the room. There was no sense in me trying to make myself a fine, upstanding, gentleman. That ship had sailed. Hell, it had sailed and sunk at sea. Now I was losing the one woman who I was certain could be my port, my person to come home to.

We headed to the door. Thankfully, Ginger and Ellie, who were not always the sharpest, took the hint and cleared out. I opened the door. The food delivery guy was standing on the porch with dinner, just about to ring the bell. Our quiet, romantic night in had been blasted to pieces. I pulled a twenty out of my pocket and tipped the guy and told him he could have the food too. I knew my only dinner tonight was going to be a few beers and a long night in bed staring at the ceiling counting how many ways I deserved this.

The kid looked stunned, then shrugged as he headed back to his car with the bags of food. I walked Suzy to her car. I briefly considered not handing over the duffle but desperation never looked good on me. Even though I was feeling a good dose of it as I watched her open the trunk of her car. She avoided looking at me, and I was somewhat relieved. It was hard to look into her pale blue eyes and think I wasn't going to see them peering over the pillow at me in the morning. I'd grown way too used to having her next to me. The big bed was going to feel pretty fucking lonely without her.

I placed the duffle in the trunk. By the time I shut it, she was already climbing into the driver's seat for a quick getaway. I grabbed the door to stop it from closing. It seemed to take all her will, but she finally lifted her face to peer up at me.

"Suzy, once you feel like your head is clear and you know what you want, I hope you'll come back to me."

She blinked away new tears and nodded as she pulled the door shut. I stood on the driveway, like a damn fool, watching, waiting and hoping she'd turn her shitty little car around. But she drove off, around the corner and out of sight. And out of my life.

Nineteen

Suzy

“Suzy," Gene, the assistant manager called over the radio at my station. "Time for your break."

Tonight was one of those nights where I couldn't wait to step away from the dining area. A party of twenty hyped up, drunken frat boys had landed in my section, the blue section for the night. It was always the luck of the draw, which server ended up with the most boisterous and rowdy crowd. Unfortunately, tonight I was the one with the short straw.

Down below, Peter, the jousting announcer, tooted his bugle and called out that the Red Knight had entered the arena. I'd learned a week after walking out on Quinn that he was an impossibly hard man to forget. The fact that we worked at the same place definitely didn't help matters. As hard as I tried not to, my gaze swept down to the jousting arena as the crowd in the red section cheered and whistled for their hero. He was still holding his helmet under his arm as he trotted Archer to the center of the field. His long hair was drawn back, away from his face. I could see his profile perfectly. I'd already memorized every line of it and seeing it made my throat ache.

Before I managed to pull my gaze away, he turned his face in the direction of my table section. Our gazes locked like magnets until I forced mine away. As I hurried to the door that would take me to the break room, one of the fraternity members, a thick necked idiot who had been handsy and rude all night, called to see where I was going.

"Hey, wench, where are you going? We need more ale."

I ignored him and rushed out the door to the break room. I had ten minutes of quiet and solitude which would hopefully give me enough time to recuperate from the last few seconds where Quinn and I locked gazes. We had both been expertly avoiding each other, not too big a challenge considering he spent most of his time on the side with the horses and theater team and I spent mine in the kitchen and dining areas.

I'd left his house that night, chastising myself for immediately falling head over heels for the guy when I knew he was a player. I blamed it on my vulnerable state of emotion, my breakup with Tate and losing my place to live. I was mostly sore about the last part. In fact, I'd hardly given Tate a second thought since I walked out on him. I was relieved to have him out of my life. But giving up my independence and moving right in with Quinn had been a big mistake. I was immediately dependent on another man, albeit a much better man than the first. Everything had moved with ridiculous lightning speed, and when the two women showed up, it was like a dose of reality. I asked myself what the hell I was doing moving right in with the guy. I'd cut off his busy social life and I'd cut off my own independence all with one stupid decision.

I checked my phone for the first time since my shift had started. There were two texts from my mom, one to remind me to lock the back door when I came in and the other to let me know she had washed the sheets on my bed. Mom had resisted learning to text for a long time but now that she used it, she found the most comically inane things to text about. But she had been there for me the night I came home from Quinn's. I spent a good hour sobbing into my pillow so she a baked my favorite lemon cupcakes. My mom always knew how to make things better with butter and sugar.

Brenda, one of the other servers, came in looking about as worn out as I felt. "Hey, Suzy," she said with low energy as she tromped to the employee refrigerator and pulled out a yogurt. Brenda had amazing curly blonde hair that she occasionally streaked with color. Tonight it was a wide swath of pink at the front. She had pulled the pink strand back and twisted it in with her gold hair.

She pulled out a chair and plopped down. "I've got the most irritating family sitting in my section tonight. 'Get me some more barbecue sauce please. Can I have another soda? This meat is too cold'," she said in a squeaky, annoying voice.

"I'll trade you the annoying family for my table of rude frat boys."

"Ugh, no thanks. They are usually the worst." She peeled open her yogurt. "Did you hear the terrible news?"

I sat up a little straighter. "No, please don't tell me they're cutting hours again."

Brenda looked up from her yogurt. "What? No, that wasn't the terrible news." She sat forward. "Are they cutting hours again?"

"Not that I know of, I just thought that might be your terrible news." I glanced at my phone. My break was almost over.

Brenda relaxed back with her lime yogurt. "No, that's not the news. Everyone is heartbroken. Quinn turned in his resignation." She shrugged. "Not sure why but he's probably going to work for that rich brother of his."

I blinked at her, trying to sort out my own feelings. They were pretty easy to sort. I was feeling despair. I would never see him again. "Is this certain or just a rumor?" I tried not to show how devastated I was by the news, but apparently, I wasn't doing a great job of masking my emotion.

"Jeez, are you all right?" Brenda asked. "You look kind of pale. Of all people, I didn't think you'd care one way or the other since you were one of the few women in the place he didn't date at one point or another. Although, I guess I saw you two talking occasionally."

"Yes, we were friends," I said weakly. I stood up from the chair but my legs were like jelly. Quinn was leaving. I'd never see him again. The weight of that reality sat on my chest like a lead ball as I willed my feet forward and headed back to my station.

The jousts were in full force down below the dining arena. It could just have been my dark mood but the noise echoing through the massive room seemed extra thunderous. The fraternity table had taken their enthusiasm and noise level up a few good notches as well. The one whose groping hands I'd had to avoid all evening spotted me the second I stepped back through the door.

"Hey, there's the hot serving wench," he yelled loud enough that I could hear him over the booming din of the crowd. "We need another bottle of ketchup." To prove his point, the jerk lifted the bottle and squeezed it in his meaty fist. Ketchup sprayed everywhere.

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