Page 1 of Wham Line
Chapter 1
“Bobby,” I said.“Validate me!”
Bobby, God bless him, only said, “Okay, babe.How?”
It was a cold February night on the Oregon coast, which meant it wasn’tobjectivelycold—I mean, most days, it didn’t even get down to freezing.But the damp and the gray skies and the wind cutting in off the ocean meant that itfeltcold, and as we crossed the parking lot, Mizzenmast glowed ahead of us with the promise of warmth.
Hastings Rock’s newest restaurant occupied a standalone building on a small rise in the heart of the tourist district.Its roof perched like a particularly ugly hat, and its plywood siding could—at best—be considered unpretentious.It had obviously been built at the creative intersection of architectural daring and very little money.And, in the year and change I’d lived in Hastings Rock, it had been home to a steakhouse, an all-you-can-eat-shrimp restaurant, and an artists’ colony.It was the kind of place that, somewhere else, probably would have been torn down to make room for someone’s expensive beach house because it had a prime location and looked out over the water.And now it was Mizzenmast—locally sourced seafood, farm-to-table vegetables, and a Michelin-star chef.
It was kind of a big deal.
Tonight was the soft open, and somehow, we’d gotten a table—all of us, Keme and Millie and Fox and Indira and Bobby and I—because of Nalini.Indira’s niece had been staying with us for weeks now, an extended visit that had never been fully explained.She had apparently gotten bored enough, though, to pick up a part-time job at the new restaurant.To our benefit, as it turned out.
Right then, though, I had more important things to worry about.“How?”
Keme snickered.
Fox snorted.
Even worse, Millie made a consoling sound and patted my arm.
Indira checked her watch.
Bobby gave Keme a quick look, seemed to do a mental backtrack—although how he had managed to tune out Keme heckling me on the drive over about my general lack of good boyfriend qualities, I didn’t know—and finally said, “You’re a great boyfriend.”
“Nice save,” Keme said, not quite under his breath.
I chose to ignore that.“See?”
“It doesn’t count,” Fox said.“You literally told him to validate you.”
“That’s a communication preference.Bobby appreciates clarity.”
“Name three things that make him a good boyfriend,” Fox told Bobby.
Bobby opened his mouth.
“I packed all those snacks for his lunches,” I said.
“Yeah,” Keme said, “but Bobby doesn’t like coconut.”
“And you opened some of the snacks first to sample them,” Millie reminded me.
I made a sound that can only be described asBetrayal—with a capital B.“I write him cute notes.I slip them in his pocket so he finds them later.”
“He slipped one in my pocket,” Fox informed the parking lot at large—I assumed that Fox, at a young age, had internalized the saying,All the world’s a stage.“Thankfully, Idohave, quote, ‘lion-like thighs.’”
“One of those notes ended up in my lunch,” Keme said.“It made me puke.”
“Wow,” I said.And the tone wasWow—with a capital W.
“You know,” Bobby tried, “I don’t think—”
“Oh, remember when Dash accidentally sexted me?”Millie asked (with, I must note, one hundred percent innocence).
Fox choked on their spit.
“It wasn’t a sext,” I whispered furiously, glancing around the parking lot.“It was a picture of a quesadilla.”I couldn’t keep myself from adding, “And I apologized.”
