Page 66 of Moth
Chapter Fifteen
The shop is still closed, and Mr. Zhang isn’t inside when I enter it. I’m left alone with my thoughts and forced to replay the events of last night over and over again.
Work is my only salvation. I finish documenting and shelving new inventory, letting the tasks consume my focus. After, I file the insurance paperwork to finally work on replacing the window. Then I clean the shop from top to bottom without even taking a lunch break. Once I’m done, I clean it again…
It’s like time is racing up to me, and it’s time to leave before I know it. Too soon. My cell phone is still off in my bag, and whenever I think of going home, my breathing hitches. I can’t. Not yet.
Food seems to be the only thing worth dragging me from the shop in the end. I head toward a familiar restaurant with my head low, jumping at any figure who resembles Branden. My only consolation is that he hates this part of town enough to avoid it, even if searching for me.
Or so I hope.
Still, I nearly run inside the restaurant the second it comes into view. Inside is a pleasant dining room with red walls decorated with elegant accents of gold.
“Hannah?” Mara stands behind the hostess counter, though wearing a far more modest black dress than her outfit from earlier. “Finally come to take me up on that free food?” She winks. “Have a seat, and I’ll join you.”
I take a booth at the back, and minutes later, she saunters over with a plate piled high with assorted veggies and rice.
“It’s on the house,” she declares, sitting across from me. “Where have you been? I tried texting you.”
I pause with a forkful of food near my mouth. “My phone is…dead,” I say. “My charger broke.”
“Oh, that sucks.” She sighs, leaning back against her end of the booth. “I was just looking for reassurance, anyway.”
I choke down a bit of rice. “Reassurance?”
She eyes me warily, biting her lower lip until she can’t contain herself any longer. “Am I fat? Ugly? Anything that might not attract a total douchebag on the first try?”
“What?” I fumble with my fork, dropping it. Diving under the table for it gives me the chance to hide my expression. I struggle to regain control of my lips, forming a neutral line. When I do, I haul myself upright, but Mara isn’t even looking at me.
“I am, aren’t I?” she declares with utter horror. “I’m a total cow.”
“Of course, you’re not! What are you even talking about?”
“Rafe!” She slumps forward, pouting. “I went to his shop in my fuck-me jeans. Don’t judge me,” she adds, shooting me a plaintive glance. “But he didn’t even bite. No ass grab or nothing!”
“Maybe he was tired?” I blurt. “I mean, if you went early… Besides, why do you even want a guy like that? You’re too good for him.” My voice breaks. What does that say about me?
“Yeah, I know.” She sits up, beaming, but her eyebrow arches as she eyes my chest. “What on earth are you wearing?”
I glance down and feel the color drain from my face. What am I wearing? An oversized man’s dark T-shirt with an obscure rock band logo printed on it. “I…um, it’s thrifted. I had a bleach escapade when I did laundry. Most of my stuff is wrecked.”
“That sucks!” She shrugs in sympathy. “Well, I have some stuff for you to have if you want. You can definitely have my fuck-me jeans, for starters. They have failed me for the last time.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.”
While I clear my plate, she dashes off, presumably to the Chan apartment that I assume is above the restaurant. After a few minutes, she returns with a pink duffel that she offers to me with a reverent bow.
“My much-loved but woefully out of season babies,” she says. “May you treat them well.”
She walks me to the doorway. “I plan on aiming for Rafe again tomorrow,” she declares with a wink. “Charge your phone by then. I’ll text you and let you know how it goes.”
“Why do you want to be with him anyway? You said he goes through skanks. He doesn’t seem like the boyfriend type.”
“Duh!” Her eyes widen as she follows me down the block, ensuring we’re out of earshot of her parents. “Bad boy sex is the best kind of sex. No emotions. No strings. And then I get to brood about it for many a novel when I’m a future bestseller. It’s a win, win, baby! Besides, my dad would kill me if I actually dated him.”
“Why?”
