Page 24 of Escape
“What?”
“Hey, I didn’t know you were staying.” That statement came from the waitress standing beside our table.
“Oh, hey, Lori. Yeah, I saw my friend coming in as I was heading out,” Josie explained. “So, I’m just hanging for a bit while he has some pie.”
“Perfect. Any idea what you’d like, or should I grab some menus?” Lori asked.
My eyes went to Josie. “What do you recommend?”
“They’re all good. We’ve got a wildberry, apple, cherry, and blueberry if you want a fruit pie. You probably wouldn’t be disappointed with the chocolate cream or banana cream. If I recall correctly, you don’t like coconut, so I wouldn’t recommend the coconut custard. We also have a lemon meringue.”
“Do you have a favorite?” I asked, ignoring the way it felt to hear her admit she hadn’t forgotten about my aversion to coconut.
“It’s a toss-up between the apple crumb and the wildberry. I think both are best when served a la mode, if you don’t mind adding some ice cream to the mix,” she said.
With a curt nod, I looked up at Lori and said, “We’ll have one of each, just as Josie likes them with some ice cream.”
Lori beamed at us. “Great. Anything to drink?”
“Josie?” I asked.
“Oh, um, just a cup of tea,” she murmured.
“I’ll have a coffee.”
With a nod, Lori said, “I’ll be back shortly.”
As soon as she took off, leaving me alone with Josie, my eyes were immediately on the woman sitting across from me. She seemed nervous, uneasy. And her eyes were staring out the window.
“Josie?” I called quietly, pulling her attention away from whatever she’d been focused on outside.
She brought her gaze to mine. “Yeah?”
“Do you want to tell me why you had so much trouble sitting down?” I asked.
Her throat bobbed with the deep swallow she took. “I… I hurt myself two days ago.”
I knew where this was heading, and I didn’t like it one bit. Doing my best to remain neutral until I had all the facts, I replied, “Really? Was it here at work?”
She looked away from me, her discomfort becoming more and more obvious with every second that passed. The time ticked by, and I felt myself growing more concerned. “No,” she whispered. “I was at home when it happened. I fell in my kitchen.”
“Are you okay? What did you injure?” I pressed.
“Just my ribs and my shoulder,” she confessed, her voice holding a slight rasp.
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but Lori returned. “Here’s your coffee and tea. I’ve got some cream here for you. And the sugar is on the opposite side of the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes with the pies.”
“Thank you,” I said.
The moment she was gone, my focus was back on Josie. “How did you fall? Did you get checked out by a doctor?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I’m okay.”
I cocked a brow. “You struggled to get into the seat. That doesn’t seem okay to me.”
Josie nervously bit her lip. I hated it, because I knew she was hiding the truth from me. The last thing I wanted to do was push her to the point she got up and walked out of here, but I was no longer willing to sit back and do nothing. When she flinched days ago, I could explain it away as being some longstanding trauma response. Watching her need to lower herself gingerly into the booth told a different story, and I wasn’t the kind of man who could pretend I didn’t see it.
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted as she reached up to grab her spoon for her tea.