“I’m not their mom, Moe. You need a sign that says ‘no alcoholic beverages sold before a certain time’ if you don’t want to sell it this early.”
He rolls his eyes. “Why do ya always have to be so practical?”
I laugh and steal a French fry. “Put a cork in it, and get my drink.”
He chuckles. “Flip these pancakes and I’ll make it.”
Frowning, I step up to the grill. “I’m not qualified to do this. What if I mess them up?” When he returns, he sighs at the mangled pancakes, and I shrug. “I tried. And you need a bartender.”
After I drop off the mojito, the bell rings, and the noise in the room doubles with cheers. Jinxy, Mav, and Dax strut in, and Jinxy charges around the room with his arms in the air like a heavyweight boxer who knocked out his opponent.
I approach the group as the door opens again and Tiffany and Sheryl join them. “It’ll be a wait for one of the booths.”
Tiffany rolls her eyes, but Dax smiles and says it’s not a problem. Jinxy throws his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, cutie. How’s it going? Did ya see me kick ass yesterday?”
I cough from the fumes. “Jinxy, are you already drunk this morning, or is this from last night?”
“Yes.” He shrugs, wobbles, and leans on me, the weight of him almost throwing us both to the ground. Fortunately, Dax reaches out and keeps us upright.
The group waits outside, and I’m finally able to seat them. They want a round of drinks, and I wrangle another waitress to make them because our orders will fall behind if Moe steps away to make that many beverages.
When I serve them, Jinxy practically chugs it. “I’m still celebratin’.”
“I can see that. What can I get y’all to eat?”
The five of them are seated in the circular booth. Tiffany’s all up in Jinxy’s business right now.
He waves his drink at me. “We owe you, Abby Cadabby.”
Abby Cadabby? Isn’t that a Sesame Street character? “You owe me, huh?” He’s drunk. I hope he’s not driving today. I’ll pull Dax aside later and make sure.
“You’re single-handedly responsible for the Broncos going to the championship game.”
I whip out my pen and notepad to jot down their orders. “Okay. Humor me. How did I manage this feat?”
“You did all the things to our boy.”
Dax elbows him hard. “Shut the fuck up, man.”
Tiffany has an evil smile on her face. “Don’t tell him what to do. Spill the beans, Jinxy, baby.”
He practically purrs at her. “Just saying that Abby should get the credit for fuckin’ Nick senseless so he could relax and focus on football.”
I glance around, embarrassed to be having this conversation in the middle of the diner. Lowering my voice, I ask, “He told you I fucked him senseless?” Nick’s friends saw us together several times, but I’d never imagine he’d speak about our relationship so crassly. Unless he’s just using me for sex. I press my hand against my stomach and look at Dax. “Nick said that? He used those words?”
“Ignore Jinxy. He’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” But the sympathy in his expression makes me think there’s some truth to what his friend is saying.
Jinxy bangs on the table. “The hell I don’t. Our boy got his shit together ’cause Abby was putting out. C’mon. We all know he’s bangin’ his nanny. In fact, I told him he should. That it would help clear his thoughts and get him to chill the fuck out.” And then he adds, “She’s our little lucky charm.”
Lucky charm? I blink several times as I try to catch my breath. Not this again.
With a toss of her hair, Tiffany cackles. “That’s why you said to be patient because he’d be single come second semester!”
Oh my God. Is that true?
Have I been wrong about Nick all this time? Have I been sleeping with a man who talks about me like I’m some whore? Like I’m disposable? Like I mean nothing?
Was he stringing me along, putting off making any decisions about our relationship because he never planned to have one with me?
