“Mm,” I agree, eyes catching on her blue, which barely contain the irritation she feels, my hand in her hair serving to soothe only me.
A pity.
I don’t remove it as I reply, “Don’t ride your bike home. It’ll be dark by the time you’re on your way, and it’s not safe. Catch the bus or, if the bus isn’t running, call me. Yes? Promise?”
She grinds her teeth, nose scrunching. “Promise,” she grits. “Not that I need to, since, again,I’m not stupid.”
Stupid or not, she is pretty. And pretty women are not safe in the city. Intelligence has nothing to do with it. Is it too much that, for peace of mind, I remind us both of the precautions she’ll take? I don’t think so.
“If you’re done,” she sniffs, tugging her braid from my grasp, “I have togo.”
I nod. “Remember. Safety. Bus. No biking in the dark.”
She rolls her eyes, shooting down the hallway to the office, where her backpack is. “Goodbye, Salty!” she calls. “Don’t screw up my register while I’m gone!”
The door to the employees-only area swings shut after her and I return to the counter, busying myself with cleaning and reorganizing her drawer as I listen for the sound of her leaving out the back, which comes quickly in the form of a door slamming.
Carla arrives not long after that, and I return to the kitchen, where I prep for tomorrow’s menu and accept a delivery from our supplies guy before helping close up shop. As I leave, I eye the bright, sunny sky and will it to hold its summer sun long enough for Elodie to not even have to worry about the sunset.
Unfortunately, the sun’s never been much good about listening to me.
Chapter Eleven
Ooo, wow, look at all this room for character growth!
Elodie
Roman is going to kill me, and I can’t even blame him.
I started out fully intending to keep my promise, mostly because my promise was basic common sense, and thus I did not believe it would require all that much effort to fulfill. I forgot, of course, that life is life, and even something like common sense doesn’t have a whole lot it can do when faced with the space where rocks and hard places meet.
I did catch the bus, just like I said I would. I mounted my bike to the front rack, climbed aboard all smiles, and spent thirty minutes in the seat behind the driver learning about his wife, his children, and his pet iguana. Benloveshis iguana. I learn a lot about them during the ride, to my utter delight. They’re incredible. They have an actual, literal, third eye that they can use to detect light.
Light that it would not be detecting now, as the sun begins to set on my back, which is no longer on the bus.
Because the bus. Broke. Down. Right outside of the city, where the suburbs start and other buses have no reason to be this late in the day. Rescue was not coming anytime soon, even with Ben calling for help, bless his sweet, iguana-loving soul.
So after sitting for awhileon the sidewalk next to plumes of smoke from the bus engine, I figured that we were only fifteen more minutes from home, right? And the sun wasn’tactuallysetting yet. Just almost.
I could totally make it.
As I pedal my bike in the dusk of August, racing the sun, I know that past me is a stupid, stupid dum-dum, and I’m totallynotgoing to make it.
Roman’s going to be so mad at me.
Because fifteen minutes by bus? Is not at all fifteen minutes by bike. I don’t know what I was thinking, but now the dusk is getting duskier, and I’m nowhere near home, and there aren’t enough streetlights, and it’sscaryout here.
I should call Roman. I know I should. It’s just…
It’s just nothing, Elodie. It’s just your health and safety. Stop being a prideful dummy and call for help. Safety trumps pride.
I pedal harder, eyes roving for a safe place to pull over. I find my safety in the form of a—completely useless—bus stop. Two lights flicker under the shelter, lending a sense of not-quite-security to the bench as I sit, pull out my phone, and dial Roman.
It rings once before he picks up. “Elodie? What’s wrong?”
The gruff tones of his voice have me slumping on the bench, relief coursing through me even as I know I’m going to be in a different sort of trouble soon.
“I’m so sorry,” I start. “But the bus broke down and it’s getting darker and I need a ride and—”
