Page 10
“No? Well, you don’t much look like a loan shark either. But here we are.”
His mouth curls almost reluctantly. “How long?”
“How long what?”
His chest expands with a deep breath, like he’s silently counting to ten. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Waitressing? Being poor? Or not being the girl you remember?”
“Looks like you. Talks like you. Still a pain in the ass like you.”
“Yet you seem to have lost your silver tongue.” I am not thinking about his tongue. Or the time in the back seat while parked at—
There was a time that Troy liked that Clara, ass and all. When he found her spontaneous and exciting. A time when he couldn’t get enough of her. In my car. The pool house. The boathouse. Once in the pantry. Anywhere. Everywhere. And it was glorious.
“How long?”
“Ten months. I’ve been waitressing for ten months. Weddings mostly. The odd corporate event.” Whomp-whomp. “Tending bar about the same.”
“You work in a bar?”
I wish I had it in me to laugh because, my God, his face. “I’m not sure if that was admiration or horror.” Probably disbelief. “But yes, I work in a bar. A dive bar, actually. Spit and sawdust, and . . . monosyllabic customers. I love it.” Sometimes.
“Because your dad cut you off?”
“Finally!”
“I guess he got sick of your shit.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you would think. You’d have to ask him.”
“That wasn’t a denial.”
“I’m sorry, were you under the impression I owed you one?”
“Oh, Clara. You owe me plenty.”
I wince because that one lands close to a nerve. But then my mouth is off and running again. “You’ll have to get in line. My landlord comes first. Living under a bridge isn’t on my bingo card for this year.” I hope. “And after my landlord comes my pharmacist—”
As his expression twists, I grasp how that sounded. How he took it. But I meant what I said—pharmacist, not dealer. His opinion of me could hardly get any worse.
“And then, of course, I have to eat. Tiresome, I know, but—”
“What about your trust? The one your grandmother left you.”
“I don’t come into it for another ten months.”
“Thirty, right?” I nod. “So you’re what? Treading water.”
An unhappy huff bursts out of me. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Hand on my knees, I push up to stand. “Gliding through life like a swan.” Serene on the surface, and my legs kicking like hell under the waterline. “I take it we’re done here?”
He studies my face, then gives a long exhale. “We’re done.”
My heart sinks like I was expecting more. Or something else, though I’m not sure what.
“I’ll ask Shanti if I can finish my shift in the back, and—”
“That’s not happening.”
