Page 199 of June First
That hope came in the form of forgiveness.
And that forgiveness came in the form of Andrew Bailey.
36
FIRST LIGHT
BRANT, AGE 27
My lips stretch with amusement as I watch Wendy walk out of the restaurant kitchen, her hips swaying, her burgundy hair swinging.
“I wish Miss Nippersink would funnel her fiery tenacity into her hostess duties,” Pauly mutters under his breath. He’s talking to me, but he’s really talking to Wendy.
She stops, spins back around, and marches over to where Pauly and I are standing. She jabs a long nail at Pauly’s chest. “You think you’re such a big brute, you know that? Everyone here is afraid of you, but not me. No, sir, I can see right through your surly exterior and…” Her finger snaps up to his eyes. “And furrowed brow of scorn.”
I hide my laugh.
If Pauly is entertained, he doesn’t show it. His stance remains surly. His brow remains furrowed. “You underestimate me, Stellina.”
“You have a parakeet named Petey. Only softies would name a bird Pe—” Wendy falters, her head cocking to the side. “What did you call me?”
“Nothing of consequence.” He shoos her away with the flick of his wrist, almost looking like he might smile. “Carry on, now. I am not paying you to ruffle my feathers.”
“Ooh, so you feel ruffled,” she snipes, planting both hands along her hips. Wendy’s eyes cut to me with a haughty smirk. “Did you hear that, Brant? He’s admitting to having actual feelings.”
“Feelings of contempt, yes,” Pauly corrects.
I lift both hands, palms forward. “I’m staying out of this.”
“You’re frazzled right now. I can see it,” she claims, taking a step closer to Pauly and squinting her gaze. “Look, your left eye is twitching.”
He frowns. “It is merely an instinctive reaction to your irksome personality. I cannot help it. Just as you cannot help being irksome.”
“I am not irksome.”
“You are a bother, I assure you.”
Wendy’s lips purse. “Fire me, then. I dare you.”
“I will not. The customers tolerate you for unknown reasons, and it is simply not worth the time it would cost me to find and train your replacement.”
I watch as they stare each other down, Wendy holding her own and Pauly towering over her with two muscled arms crossed over his sizable chest. He’s lost quite a bit of weight over the past year after joining the gym with me. I’m there every morning as a way to keep myself distracted, because mornings are hard waking up alone—especially once you’ve experienced how it feels to wake up beside the one you love.
Pauly told me he needed to start putting his health first. He’s forty-five years old and lost his older brother to a heart attack this past winter. We grew closer after that, as I could relate to his loss on a highly personal level.
Honestly, I consider him a friend.
And as an observant friend who’s pretty damn good at reading the room, I’m almost positive he has the hots for my ex-girlfriend.
Interesting.
With a dramatic sigh, Wendy takes a step back, rolling her neck. “Face it, Pauly. You’d miss me.”
“I absolutely would not.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she says, floating away in her black pantsuit and silver name tag, then waving her hand dismissively. “And don’t call me spirulina. That stuff smells like fish.”
“Stellina,” he chides to her retreating back.