Page 19 of Glass Half Full
He’s sinking. This fearless, charismatic beefcake of a man is sinking beneath an ocean whose tides have tangled around my own limbs so many times before.
I have to help him.
It’s not a want; it’s a need.
“There’s a grocery store two blocks up.” I ignore their looks of surprise as I step around the corner. “DeeDee doesn’t seem to need me, and my shift is over in ten minutes anyway. I could go with someone and grab as much as we can. It would save you a few orders at least.”
They blink at me.
“I don’t really know, uh, how this all works,” I backtrack. “I’m sure grocery store potatoes are way more expensive. It’s just, um, when I worked at the pizza place and we’d run out of something, I’d always jump on my bike and go to the store so we could make it to the end of the day. Not that I have a bike to jump on, but...well anyway, I just thought, um...”
They’re still gawking at me.
“I sort of overheard your conversation,” I explain.
Yes, Dylan and Zach, I have been creepily standing in the hallway the whole time.
“Yo! Can someone check if Renee is locked in the walk-in?” DeeDee’s shout from up front echoes back to us.
“I should go.” I hold the container in my hands up. “Limes.”
The smooth talker strikes again.
I hurry to the bar, dropping the limes into their slot in the garnish station and thanking genetics for giving me dark enough skin to hide most of my blush.
“I thought you would need a scarf after being in there so long,ma belle.” DeeDee points at me with one of the soda guns before filling a glass of Sprite. “But you look like you’ve got a fever.”
Okay,someof my blush.
“Sorry I took so long.” I hurry to change the subject from the current state of my face. “The kitchen was crazy.”
“They’re alwayscomplètement fouback there. It’s a lot more chill in the front.”
I glance around to see all three sides of the bar packed two rows deep with customers eager to for alcohol. Clearly the definition of chill.
“You’re good to go now,” DeeDee informs me. “Mercifor all your help. You remember how to punch out?”
I nod. “Sorry again about the limes.”
She waves my apology away. “You did great tonight.”
I’m about to head for the back again before I add, “Oh and heads up, I think they’re about to run out of potatoes back there.”
She looks up from the rum and coke she just finished. “Non. You’re kidding me.”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Tabarnak,” she swears, “that is going to fuck some shit up.”
Dylan’s thoughts exactly.
I leave her shaking her head in disbelief and brace myself for entering the back of house again. It wouldn’t surprise me if Dylan and Zach were still standing where I left them, contemplating just how much of a creep I am.
What does surprise me is when I get two steps down the hallway and am met by Dylan stepping out of the office, looking much more happy to cross paths than he did by the fridge.
“Did you punch out yet?”
“I...no,” I stammer.
