Page 79 of Don't Make Me Beg
Thankfully, Hazel slides a drink across the counter, saving me from having to come up with a response. I blink down at the drink, realizing I never even ordered.
I take a cautious sip. The cinnamon-sweet warmth hits my tongue, and a soft smile pulls at my lips. “Hazel, I can’t believe you remembered.”
“Oh, come on now, dear,” she says, handing me a warm pastry wrapped in wax paper. “You really think I’m too old to remember something as simple as chai tea? Now here, get something on your stomach. You’re going to need fuel for all that strenuous work ahead of you.”
I don’t even have to look to know it’s my favorite apple tart.
Before I can reach into my pocket, she’s already waving me off. “It’s on me.”
I start to argue, but there’s no winning this. She’s got that stern look in her eye, and I’m already outnumbered three to one.
“Thank you,” I say, before digging into my delicious treats. My eyes nearly roll back in my head the moment the warm, flaky crust and sweet apple filling hit my tongue. By the look of pride on her face, my reaction must be plenty of payment enough.
I make my way outside, where I find Big Dan waiting for the signal light. “Well, hey there, Scout. You’re up mighty early this morning.”
I give him a polite smile, covering my mouth as I try to swallow the giant bite of pastry I just shoved in my mouth. “Just getting a jump start on the mural, before it gets too hot.”
“That’s not a bad idea at all. You know, Dr. Drizzle says we’ve got some rain in the forecast.” He gestures to the cloudless sky painted in cotton candy blue and pink, then leans in and whispers behind his hand, “The whole meteorology thing is a crock of shit if you ask me. I figure there’s a fifty-fifty chance of them being right, however they predict it. But you can’t tell my wife that.” He rolls his eyes as if freshly annoyed at the reminder of his apparent competition. “I think Dr. Drizzle knows what he’s doing, wearing those fitted suits with his ankles peeking out, his hair gelled and styled like a Ken Doll…”
I have to bite my lip to hold back my grin at Dan’s early morning confession, thinking of Mr. Kingsley’s identical complaint. If the local meteorologist’s thirst-trapping during his weather reports is your biggest issue in life, maybe things aren’t too bad? When we get to the traffic light, we each go our separate ways.
“I’ll be seein’ you around, Scout. Good luck today and watch out for that storm!” Dan calls over his shoulder with a chuckle.
“Will do. See you later, Big Dan.” I wave him goodbye as I round the corner, stopping in my tracks when I see the now solid white brick wall that appears to have already been primed. There’s a tarp on the ground with gallons of paint and an assortment of paintbrushes and smaller cups ready to go.
I blink up in confusion just as the phone in my pocket vibrates with a text.
Luka
Thought you could use a head start. Break a leg today.
I quickly text him back.
When did you do this?
Luka
Hank left me a message yesterday telling me he was dropping everything off, so I arranged for Roman and Guy to meet him and get everything set up.
You’re my wife, Scout… Trust me, it’s not a big deal.
I’m your fake wife. And yes, it is!
You made them prep the whole wall, Luka! I can’t imagine how long that must’ve taken…
Luka
Fake. Real. Doesn’t make a difference in how I plan on treating you. So get used to it.
There should be at least two coats of primer, so you should be all set to get started.
I really don’t know what to say…
Luka
How about, “Thanks, Luka, you’re the best husband ever, and I was totally thinking about you when I tried to get myself off this morning…”
And you just ruined it.
