Page 83 of Truck Stop Titan

Tango had absolutely no grounds to keep me under his employ. I hadn’t been with the company long enough to make any kind of impression, and the thin ice began to crack under the weight of my self-righteous rant.

When he didn’t order me to pack my belongings and leave, I picked up a cotton swab, squirted goopy gel on the tip, then continued poking his face. After a long silence, I asked, “So, how does the other guy look?”

Theother guyobviously being Dane, considering Tango’s outburst. I worried about his current state of health, assuming he was the reason Tango looked like he’d survived a tangle with a grizzly bear.

“He was uglier than sin to begin with. I might’ve improved his looks.” Tango started to crack a smile, then mumbled, “ouch” under his breath, bringing a finger to the cut on his lip.

“All right. I’ve done all I can do.” I leaned back, inspecting his wounds. “Let me know when you need more ice.”

“Thanks, Moriah,” he mumbled, pressing the cold bag to his face.

I gathered the garbage and turned to leave. Halfway through the door, I heard, “And I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Back at my desk, my phone lit up with a string of unopened texts. All of them from Slade.

Mimisw/metoday.I’lltakehertoherappointment

BTWDaneisajackass

Mim and Rocky are so cute together.He’s teaching her to use the milkshake machine.

Mim let Charlie pick her up and set her on the counter.I almost cried

Did I mention Dane is a jackass?

Tango is a jackass too

I’m venting. Sorry

I’ll bring Mim home after dinner if that’s ok

I responded with: That’s perfect thank you so much

I didn’t question why Mim was with Slade. I trusted her completely. Dane, on the other hand, had some explaining to do. But that would have to wait until after work.

I released a frustrated breath and shook off the bad vibes. Had to be a full moon. Everyone was acting off kilter.

To prove my point, the senior Rossi sauntered toward my desk, all crisp, clean lines, sharp angles, and uber-confidence, singing “Downtown” by Macklemore and carrying a coffee mug that read “Billion Dollar Grandpa.” He paused mid-rap and offered a panty-melting smile. “Morning, Miss Peterson.”

“Good morning, Mr. Rossi.”

“Tango in?” He gestured toward the closed door.

“Yes.” I considered the courtesy of a warning, then decided it wasn’t my place.

Mr. Rossi paused, sliding his free hand into the pocket of his trousers. “How are you settling into Whisper Springs?”

“Fine, thank you. I love this town. So charming.”

“And your niece? She’s well?”

“Better every day.”

“Good to hear.”

“Mr. Reynolds treating you well?”

“Mr. Reynolds?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

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