Page 27 of A Future To Remember

He blinked at me, confusion clouding his pale features.

I pointed to my head. “Amnesia.”

From the kitchen came the smell of cooking beef, and Levi’s attention seemed split between me and the scent of what was probably a hamburger.

I hoped it was his dinner.

“For real, you’ve got amnesia?” he asked.

“Yep. For real. My past, including my name, is a total blank. I’m calling myself Maddy because I like the way it sounds.”

There was a sad sort of twinkle in Levi’s eyes. And for a moment, his expression appeared almost…envious. “How’d you end up here then?”

I shrugged. “No idea. I woke up in the hospital a couple of weeks ago with no idea who I was, where I was, or how I got there. They were hoping my memory would’ve returned by now, but it hasn’t.”

Levi pointed to my casted arm. “Maybe you were in a car accident?”

I knew that was unlikely the case, but I nodded all the same. “Yeah, maybe.”

The smell from the kitchen continued to intensify and started to smell less liked cooked beef and more like charred beef.

I didn’t say anything, but Levi must’ve noticed it too, because his attention switched over to the window at the top of the back counter, where we could both just make out the back of Gus’s head while he worked the griddle.

I pointed to the window. “Did you order something to eat?”

Levi frowned. “Yeah. A burger.”

“You like it hockey puck–style, huh?”

“What?”

“You know, like a hockey puck. Well, well, welllll done.”

To my surprise, Levi’s face crumpled. He simply looked sad.

“Order up!” Gus barked from the window as he slid a plate under the hot lamp.

Levi simply looked toward the window, eyeing the plate like he was afraid it might bite him.

I got up, grimacing a bit, walked around the counter, and took down the plate, then lifted the top bun to stare down at a completely inedible hunk of charred meat. Coloring the plate was only a thin slice of lettuce. No onion. Tomato. Pickle. Or fries. Every burger I’d served tonight had had those on the plate. Along with a side of slaw.

Something angry roiled inside me. It took only one look toward Levi to know that he didn’t like his burgers anywhere near this burnt offering, and he’d no doubt been hoping for fries.

The kid had worked his ass off for the past five hours. I knew that Wanda had promised him only thirty bucks—fifteen to clean up the lunch dishes and fifteen more to clean up dinner—less even than minimum wage. And, yeah, I wasn’t on her payroll at all, but I was getting room and board plus tips out of the deal.

Turning back to the window, I said, “Um, Gus?”

The cook was busy scraping the griddle, shoving shards of blackened meat into the well that collected the residue from everything fried on top of the griddle.

“Yeah?” He had his back to me, and I waited for him to look at me over his shoulder. “What’s up?”

I held up the plate with Levi’s burnt burger, smiling at him for all I was worth. “Wanda said she’d comp my meal, and, after smelling your cooking all night, I’m starving! Could I have one of these?”

He grinned. “Sure. How you want it?”

I pointed down to the bun, obscuring the lump of inedible meat beneath it. “How’s this one cooked?”

Gus’s grin faltered just a hair. “Well done.”