Page 18 of Crash and Burn
"Yeah?" he asked, cocking his head at me.
"Pancakes!" I blurted out. "I'm craving pancakes. You in for diner food again?"
"Oh, sorry, I can't." Grant looked apologetic. "I've got other plans."
"Right. Okay. Sure. Next time then." I nodded my head up and down like a bobble-headed doll. "I better go put away all the cleaning stuff before the customers start coming."
I whirled around and scurried to the kitchen.
It was better this way, I assured myself, even as my inner voice called me a coward.
I'd corner him later, near the end of our shift. If I said something now, no matter what the outcome, good or bad, we'd both have to spend the evening at the bar working side-by-side. Better to do it near the end of the night.
Okay, then. After our shift. I was determined to do this.
I put the cleaning supplies away, smoothed down my hair and walked back out, ready to do my job.
It was a Sunday, which meant it wasn’t too busy, and I’d be able to leave before it got too late when we closed early. I took orders and delivered drinks with a cheerful smile and a perky tone, even with the more challenging customers.
Grant and Mike — or was it Matt? — took turns coming out onto the floor to help me do a brisk clean sweep whenever things got too messy. Mike complained the entire time, grumbling under his breath with a scowl. I wouldn't have been surprised if he left without the standard two weeks notice.
After a hectic evening, the crowd finally began to die down near closing time. There were only a few customers left. I started my usual clean up routine about a half hour early, eager to get it done so I had time to talk to Grant.
I looked over at the bar. Grant had ducked out from under it and was wiping down the bar stool seats from the other side. I usually got around to doing that last, but he was taking care of it for me.
He must have sensed eyes on him, because he turned to catch me staring.
"Thanks for lending a hand," I called out from across the room with a grateful wave, forcing down an embarrassed flush at having been caught mooning over him.
The doors opened, one more patron coming in. I'd have to put the closed sign up. It was past last-call.
"Hey there, I'm sorry, we're closing soon," I said with an apologetic smile.
"Oh." A tall, raven-haired woman blinked at me, her lashes long and thick enough to make me jealous. "I'm not here to drink, I'm looking for—" Her eyes shifted to look over my shoulder. "Grant!" she beamed.
"Hey Missy." Grant walked past me to greet her. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.
I blinked, taken aback.
Then she took his face in both perfectly-manicured hands and—
My jaw dropped.
— planted a loud, noisy kiss…
Right. On. His. Mouth.
I stared at Grant and this girl, Missy, as they sucked face.
It felt like I'd taken a blow to the stomach. No, it felt like I had no stomach at all. It felt as if all my internal organs had been blasted into pieces and the squishy, gooey chunks were spilling out through a hole in my gut.
She finally let him go with asmackof the lips and a satisfied smile.
It had probably only been a few seconds, but time had somehow crawled to a stop, as if I were watching a movie in hi-def slow motion, giving me the time to appreciate every… single… moment.
Oh my god.
Grant had a girlfriend.
