Page 9 of Honeyed
I know that not broaching the subject with Alana is not an option anymore. August needs help desperately. And if she won’t take it from the Ashtons, and can’t get a scholarship, then I’m her last lifeline. I’ll marry Alana, get the money Arthur left to me, and make August take it for college. I’ll create a goddamn scholarship for all I care. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make August feel okay with accepting it.
She has to get out from under that roof, that control and manipulation. Before something happens that I’ll regret for the rest of my days.
Before I talk myself out of it, I walk swiftly to the front of the restaurant. The overhead lights have been turned off, and nothing but the glow of the neon red Hope Pizza sign and the hostess stand lamp illuminates the dining room.
Alana sits at a table in the middle of the room, and I watch her stack pile after pile of money from the night. Her curls are piled on her head and stuck through with a pen, and even without seeing her gorgeous features, I know they’re screwed in the concentration of counting.
“If I interrupt, will it throw off your count?” I joke, sitting down next to her.
Being this close after our icy interactions the last couple of months warms something in my soul.
“You already know it will, jackass.” She scowls, her mouth always resembling that of a sailor’s.
“Why isn’t Patrick doing this?” Everyone knows Alana’s weakness is money and accounting.
“I let him go home with his wife. Aren’t I so selfless?” She flutters her lashes like she’s some angel.
That tone might be sarcastic, but to me, she’s both an angel and selfless. Those who know her know Alana would do anything for those she loves.
“The most self-sacrificing human I’ve ever met,” I joke back, even though I mean it.
When it’s just the two of us in the dark at closing time, like it’s been so many times, I think about what this place would be like if we took it over one day. If we were partners in life and in business, like her mother and father. As a kid, I used to watch Thomas and Leona fold napkins together after everyone finished their shifts, and I thought that maybe that could be Alana and me someday.
That was before her father sat me down and had the talk that shifted my entire mindset.
Hope Pizza is situated on Newton Street, the main drag in our little Delaware Valley river town. The water whooshes past our stone patio out back, and the cobblestone sidewalks are filled with locals and travelers alike on warm weekends. Now that we’re getting into spring, tourists and those seeking a taste of small-town charm will be all over Hope Crest. And since we’re known nationally as one of the best pizza restaurants in the country, that means big business in the coming months.
Before Arthur’s funeral, I thought I might take off this summer. Find a temporary replacement. Decide what my future holds now that I’m not so sure about that solid footing I stupidly relied on.
But that was before. Now, sticking around and forcing myself into the one thing I’ve been avoiding seems like my only way forward.
“You want to come over for a drink?” I can’t keep the insecurity out of my voice.
Alana coming to my apartment after work for a drink is something we’ve done so often, it usually wouldn’t be a blip on the radar. We’re best friends; hanging out together is a no-brainer.
But after our fight and the fact that we’ve always been in love with each other, but I won’t give in, things have been tense and awkward. Her walking over to my place with me, up the stairs, and pulling drinks from a beer I’ve handed her all seems foreign now.
“Yeah. Is that okay?” Case in point, she’d never ask me if it was okay under normal circumstances.
“Of course.” I swallow, knowing how difficult it will be to get her alone in my space.
Especially with the terms of Arthur’s will hanging over my head. How the hell am I going to bring this up without her doubling over into hysterics?
We finish the closing tasks in tandem, checking the kitchen equipment, shutting the lights, and setting the security system Thomas upgraded after Cass was attacked in the alleyway last year. Then we silently take the short walk to my apartment located just down Newton above the flower shop.
“I forgot how good it always smells in here,” she says, shrugging out of her coat and placing it on the brown leather dining chair she always opts for.
My apartment works for me; close to work with a landlord who is both a friend and a decent person, not to mention keeps the appliances and maintenance upgraded to today’s standards. Leona helped me pick some better-looking pieces of furniture when I moved in three years ago, and it’s not so much a bachelor pad as it is a cozy place to settle on nights and weekends.
One would think you couldn’t get lonely in seven hundred square feet, but as Alana moves to my fridge and grabs her own beer, I realize just how much I’ve missed having her here.
“Sometimes Bonnie sneaks up and puts a vase or two in here. It’s nice,” I agree, following her lead as I grab a beer too.
Motioning to the couch, we both sit far enough away that neither of us touches the other.
“This is … nice.” Even Alana seems to grimace at her own words as she takes a gulp from her bottle.
“You said that already.” I smirk because, damn, this feels strange.