Page 15 of Clean Out of Luck

I just shake my head. “Oh no, I’m a regular. He knows I always get the same thing.”

His fingers drum on the table. “Maybe we should’ve gone somewhere else, then. I didn’t realize you came here so frequently. Do you want to go try that tapas place around the corner?”

I glance at the chips and salsa in front of him and his excessively large margarita—three-quarters gone—then down at my horchata. I just slipped my straw into the glass and took a big sip of it. I can think of nothing more mortifying than getting up and leaving a restaurant as if I’ve just randomly changed my mind. Not to mention, the whole reason I wanted to come here was that I am comfortable here. It makes dates less awkward if I feel like I’m in a safe environment. And since this is a family-run restaurant, I’ve gotten to know Victor and his whole family. I like this place. I’m going to support them.

“That’s okay. You’ve already ordered your drink, and you’ve probably already had a chance to read the menu,” I say, hoping he won’t make an issue of this.

“Okay, as long as you’re happy here.” He smiles, and I wonder if maybe I was jumping to the wrong conclusions.

He picks up his menu again and starts flipping through it. My phone chimes. I should ignore it, but Allen seems intent on the menu, so I pull my phone out of my purse and check the text.

WADE

Just tell me his name, and I’ll look him up on Facebook real quick.

SCARLETT

Please go away.

WADE

Just one little quick search.

SCARLETT

No. No. Stay out of my business.

WADE

I just want to know that you’re going to make it home safe.

Allen clears his throat loudly. “Everything okay?”

I glance up from my phone and see that he’s finished his margarita and is spinning the glass rapidly. It makes a warbling sound with every revolution.

“Why don’t you figure out what you want to order?” I ask. “I already know what I want. I was just texting a friend.”

His eyebrows shoot up, reaching toward that overly gelled hair. “A girlfriend?”

I shake my head. “Just a friend. He’s just making sure I made it safely to my date.” I smile as much as I can to cover the white lie. It probably wouldn’t be good to tell him the person I’m texting wants to run a quick background check on him.

“Oh, okay. I thought maybe you were bored on our date.” He smiles tightly.

Well, this is fun, I think to myself. Nothing is flowing well between Allen and me tonight. I’m nervous and checking my phone, and Allen thinks I’m being rude.

“No, I just don’t want him to worry about me.” I set my phone down next to me.

Allen looks down at his margarita, his eyes wide as he realizes it’s empty. “The staff here isn’t very on top of things, are they?” He points to the empty glass as if someone’s just walking around with a pitcher of margaritas, ready to pour into empty glasses. “I’ll whistle for the waiter.”

“Oh, gosh, please don’t do that,” I mutter. “It’s a busy restaurant. He’ll get here as soon as he can.”

“I’m paying for good service here,” Allen says. He proceeds to wave at Victor, who’s at the front door greeting new customers. Then he even yells, “Hey!”

I grab my phone, flip it over, and text Wade.

SCARLETT

Allen Chapman.

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