Page 23 of Ripped & Shipped
“Hey, my peeps! And a special welcome to all of you who showed up to watch me eat a meal with Drake! You are the reason I lived on green drinks for the past twenty-four hours. If you could hear my stomach growling, you’d know how very, very much I love you!”
The count on the screen says 5k. Five thousand people are watching me and the number keeps growing. Comments roll in so fast it looks like a ticker tape. I shout out to a few people, calling their name and welcoming them before I get back to the business at hand. People are saying how much they love me, but also how excited they are for tonight’s meal.
I take a breath, securing my confident smile.
Then I say, “There’s been a slight hitch in our plans. But do not fear. The show must go on! Am I right? Sooooo … Drake had to tend to some family stuff. Everyone’s fine. Don’t stress. But he was detained and that means we have to reschedule this awesomeness for another week.
“We will bring you a meal between me and the fab-u-lous DrakesDaMan in the coming seven days. It will be twice as epic. Trust.
“But I’ll tell you what I’m going to do! Since you all showed up to watch me and Drake and we had to postpone, I’ve got a few special things I’m going to do for you!”
I’m scrabbling here, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The viewer count is at 7k now. That’s seven thousand people watching me try to salvage my reputation.
“I’m going to do five giveaways! That’s right! Five twenty-dollar Amazon gift cards will be given away tonight to five lucky followers. All you have to do is like this video, tag a friend, and follow me. For an extra chance to win, put your choice of what I should eat tonight in the comments. I’ll scan the first hundred comments that come in and choose my feast from your suggestions.
“And while we’re at it, what do you think of this amazing dress? The full pic is in my stories, and also in the post before this video. Life may have its ups and downs, but we can always dress the part. Am I right? So, go like, follow, comment, tag, and don’t forget to pick my meal.
“And most of all, put the YOU in fab-YOU-lous tonight!”
I shut the camera off and sag back against the cool vinyl of the booth. I’m staving off the tears threatening to run down my cheeks. I did the best I could. Now all I need to do is scan my comments, order what they choose, and then drive home to tally entries in the spontaneous giveaways.
Looks like I’ll be pulling an all-nighter. I close my eyes and squeeze them shut to help myself keep it together in public. My job here isn’t done. I still need to make it through a meal—alone.
When I open my eyes and straighten from my slumped position in the booth, I see him.
No. No. No.
Of all the people, at all the places in the world, what is Chris St. James doing at a Big Boy outside Columbus tonight?
CHAPTER11
Chris
It’s been a long day.Wednesdays always are. I’ve gotten into the habit of popping by this diner whenever I’m out this way, unless a friend asks me to stay for dinner or I’m not that hungry. Being single and working from home, there’s a strange comfort in eating out, even if I’m still technically alone.
Amber greets me at the hostess stand. She bats her eyelashes almost imperceptibly. I smile back with a reserved grin that hopefully lets her down gently.
“Shawna’s station?” she asks.
“I’m a creature of habit,” I confess.
I glance toward the back of the restaurant. Casing my surroundings is second nature. I’ll never lose some of the instincts I developed in the Army. I sit at the back of the room, my eyes capable of seeing every exit. My own escape strategy mapped out before I settle in. I look for suspicious people whenever I’m in an unfamiliar setting.
I don’t expect to see what I see when I look at the far corner booth.
Ella Mae.
What on earth is she doing here? As if my day hadn’t been draining enough.
I don’t even realize I’m stopping dead in my tracks until Amber pauses and looks quizzically over her shoulder at me.
“Are you okay, Chris?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m just going to make a pitstop. I’ll find a table for myself after I wash up in the restroom.”
“Okay. Whatever you want. Just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right here. You know where to find me.”
She smiles at me—an invitation written all over her face.
