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“Perhapsyourclientele will.” She turned her attention to the register. “As you can see, we’re still open here, and it’s just after lunch, so if you’re not going to purchase anything, I need to get back to the order I was fulfilling.”
“Right,” I said, understanding this was my signal to leave. Anya was done with me, and I had other things to do anyway. I took a few steps backward to the exit. “It was nice to see you, Anya.”
“Nice to see you too, Robert,” she said, but her voice was flat, and she wasn’t even looking at me. Whatever was on her computer screen had her full attention. I said goodbye and made a quick exit.
What was that about?I knew that we hadn’t been the best of friends during high school, but we’d always been civil with each other.Hadn’t we? Had she had a crush on me back then that I hadn’t known about?
It wasn’t until I was in the car, a few blocks away, that I realized she never thanked me for getting her out of the vault. Looked like one person in New Burlington wasnothappy I’d come back.
CHAPTER FIVE
ANYA
No, I didn’t thank him for rescuing me. Yes, I knew that was rude. But would anyone blame me?
I needed help getting out of the space and spent about a half hour stuck in there trying to figure out what to do next. My options were few. I didn’t have my phone, there wasn’t an emergency phone line in the vault, there were no windows, and ventilation came from a small grate in the ceiling that didn’t have enough room for me to crawl through.
So, I had to wait. Wait for a customer. Wait for someone to come by. And wait for help to arrive.
Just didn’t expect that help to come in the form of Robert Kilgore.
He never came to The Green Frog. He wasn’t a customer. He was—at best—my rival.
Still, there he was, helping me.
And I wasstillseething about it four hours later as I waited for my microwave to ding, signaling my Lean Cuisine fettuccine Alfredo casserole was cooked. A sad dinner, for sure. One full of sodium and preservatives and not healthy in the slightest, despite what the packaging said.
Sometimes, I was too tired to cook. Even if I were the most accomplished chef, I doubted I’d want to whip up something fabulous each night for one. Sadly, skills in the kitchen ended with my dad. Mom tried and often created delicious meals, but Dad was the master chef of the house. His sudden death over a decade ago surprised both Mom and me.He was too young to die at fifty-five. God, I miss him.
So, Lean Cuisine it was for tonight.
My parents had both expected me to marry straight out of college, but life had a way of throwing curveballs right at you when you least expected it. In this part of the Midwest, where most people were on their first or second kid by this age, being single in my early thirties without a long-term relationship to speak of made me an anomaly.Or fussy. Take your pick.
Keeping The Green Frog going didn’t really count as amajorprofessional accomplishment, no matter how I dressed it up on social media...and despite what Gwen told me on the days she was lucid.But hey, who’s asking anyway?
I knew should have gone to Ohio State instead of Kenyon College, but the allure of a small liberal arts school in a progressive town had been too much to resist. Try telling an eighteen-year-old they’ll regret their theater degree once they leave school. They might hear you, but none of them will listen.
