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I take the package from his palm slowly and unwrap it gently, almost like wanting to prolong this bizarrely touching moment we’re having inside of the grocery store.
“I opened a bag of chips halfway through shopping once,” I tell him.
“I knew you had a wild streak in you.”
I chuckle at that, taking a bite of this peanut butter and jelly concoction in my hands. I chew thoughtfully, the salty bite from the peanut butter playing against the sweet jelly wrapped in a doughy, still slightly frozen, piece of bread. He stares at me, anticipating, waiting for what will surely be a mind-blowing experience.
“It’s not bad.”
“Not bad?” He sounds appalled. “This is the greatest culinary invention in history, probably only second to twice baked potatoes.”
I snort. It’s not bad. But what’s even better is the thought of it. The sincere way he offered me one, the experience he’s pushed me to have, gently, carefully. Sweetly.
“Thanks, Logan.” My face hurts from how much it’s been smiling, stretched into a joyful grin.
“Anytime, Julie,” he says tenderly, as his face mimics mine. I’m starting to really like the sound of my name on his tongue.
I hold the remaining sandwich in my hand, not clamoring to eat more, but not wanting to throw it away either.
“Want to split the rest?” I offer.
“I’ll never say no to an Uncrustable.” We laugh as I tear it in half and pass a piece over to him. He finishes the rest in a handful of bites, smiling while he chews. His eyes light up when he smiles like that. Small crinkles at the corners, and his face softens even more. He is handsome. And fun-loving, and good-spirited. All the things that are evident in his face now, though not necessarily always. Out-of-studio Logan is much looser around the edges than in-studio Logan. Though I can’t say I hate either one.
“So. Tara’s leaving. That must be hard,” I say.
“It’s alright. It’s life.” His voice sounds tight.
“I guess so. Will you find a new partner? How does that work?”
He hesitates before answering, and I worry I’ve overstepped. “Um. Not sure. Sometimes it takes a while to find somebody you can vibe with. It’s not so easy.” He shrugs.
“Oh. That makes sense.” Except I don’t know how much sense it makes. My grandmother danced with my grandfather the majority of her career. But maybe he’s right. There’s certainly a connection that needs to be had.
“Alright, well I’ll see you Thursday, then,” he says.
“See you Thursday,” I nod and wave my goodbye, walking toward the bread aisle and feeling his eyes on me the whole way there.
Chapter eleven
Julieta
“The limes go onthe other side. No, not there. Other side.” T’s voice sounds clipped, all business, as I walk up to the bar. “Hey Trevor, can you show Gavin where the boxes go in the back?”
As I sit down on the barstool, I notice the new face behind the bar. Tall, lean and polished. They walk to the back, chatting quietly, and I notice T prepping glasses and garnishes for the night with her stoic, resting bitch face.
“What’s going on?” I hedge.
Delfi slides up next to me then.
“Fucking Steve, that’s what,” she retorts. “Brings in his buddy as a new hire, and has me train him for a position thatIwant.”
My eyebrows lift in hearing this.
“What a fucking surprise. Steve and his bullshit strike again.” She huffs out an angry breath, moving bar glasses around with force. “Why thefuckam I still here?”
Trevor and the new hire walk back over, just as a couple settles in at the bar. T moves to making our usual drinks andgreeting the couple. As she comes over with our orders, the new hire slowly moves in.
“Hi, I’m Gavin,” he says, stretching his hand out for a handshake. All those sharp edges: a sharp jaw, taut cheekbones are juxtaposed with warm eyes and a soft demeanor as he introduces himself. There’s something strangely familiar about it.
