Chapter 10
Flynn – Current Year
Normally, I was a fast eater, but not tonight. Tonight, I took my sweet time, savoring the waffle, bite by bite. It was surprisingly good – not as good as the ones made by my favorite place on the coast, but hey, I still knew a good thing when I had it.
Strawberry Supreme – that's the kind Anna had delivered to my table when I'd told her to surprise me. The waffle itself wasn't strawberry. It was vanilla, I guess – a big Belgian thing. But it was topped with fresh strawberries, strawberry sauce, and a shit-ton of whipped cream.
I'd just swallowed the last bite when Anna stomped up and slapped the bill onto my table, face-down.
As she turned to go, I said, "Aren't you supposed to ask if I want anything else?"
She stopped and turned around. With a smile that was more of a grimace, she gritted out, "Can I get you anything else?"
By now, it was an hour past closing time, and I was the only customer remaining. I'd been the only customer for thirty minutes now. Even Betsy had gone – after getting two more selfies and my autograph, supposedly for the kids.
I leaned back in the booth and gave Anna a long, speculative look. "If I said, 'yes,' what would you say?"
She frowned. "What?"
"Let's say I wanted some bacon, would you bring it?"
"That depends," she said. "Do you like it microwaved?"
I wasn't picky. Bacon was bacon. But I wasn't going to let her off that easy. "Not anymore, I don't."
She crossed her arms. "Well, there ya go."
I didn't know what that meant, and it wasn't worth asking. I wasn't here for bacon. I was here forher.
The whole time I'd been eating, I'd been watching her from the corner of my eye. She'd mopped the floor, refilled the condiments on every table, and then she'd waited with obvious impatience for me to finish eating and get the hell out.
I almost smiled. I was finished, all right, but I wasn't going anywhere, not yet.
I gestured to the opposite seat of my booth. "Sit."
"I can't sit," she said. "I'm working."
"Bullshit."
"What?"
"Everything that needed doing, you've already done."
"Yeah," she said. "Everything except going home."
Now, I did smile. There was a time when Anna's home had been a riverfront mansion with a four-car garage and a guest house bigger than the waffle joint.
And where did she live now? In a cheap two-bedroom apartment over the laundromat. She was living with her mom, her sister, and a boat-load of debt – more than six figures total.
Oh yeah, I'd done my homework.
Her rent was overdue, and her mom still thought she was queen of the city. As far as the sister, she was taking classes part-time at a state university located an hour south. Like most kids with no money, the sister commuted back and forth, when she wasn't working a menial service job of her own.
To Anna, I repeated, "Sit." And when she didn't, I added, "The sooner you sit, the sooner I'll leave."
With a sound of impatience, she finally slid into the booth across from me and asked, "Is this gonna take long? Because Michael reallydoeshave class in the morning."
"Michael?"
