Beach Rental(7)

“Pardon?”

“Discussing the weather. We aren’t past that yet.”

His smile faltered. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

She’d blabbed so much personal business on the Friday night drive she could hardly blame him for asking, but being asked was different from volunteering info.

They ate in silence. Ben sat across from her, biting into his grilled cheese sandwich, lips trying to snare a great glob of yellow cheese that had squeezed out. He had a good appetite. She took it as confirmation he was recovering from an illness. He’d said something along those lines when they met, hadn’t he?

His eyes were beautiful, but somber. She judged him to be in his late thirties, about ten years older than she. He was too thin and had an academic look, like a professor or something.

She dealt with her own grilled cheese sandwich while considering whether to re-start the conversation. She’d come across harsher than intended, but he’d handled the rebuff well.

“You seem better today than you did the other night.”

He jumped at the opening. “I am better. You were a lifesaver.”

“Someone else would’ve driven you home.”

“You were the one who was there when I needed a hand. My Good Samaritan.”

“I was there, it’s true, but not coming to help. I was running away from a job. I stumbled over you. Literally.” Sammy would never take her back as a server and that suited her fine. She was tired of arrogant men, including the jerk at the party who’d looked through her as if she wasn’t there. She should shake it off. That sort of thing had never bothered her before. Pride wasn’t something she concerned herself with, but then again, maybe it had always bothered her and lacked only a trigger to set it off.

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. Cobwebs. I usually eat alone. You don’t owe me anything, not even thanks. It was a good deal for both of us.”

He nodded. “You work for a caterer and at the grocery store, too?”

“Grocery store, yes. Caterer, no longer.”

“Not married?”

“No. On my own. Always have been.”

“No family?”

“Enough with the questions.” She spoke sharply.

“Just making conversation. Does any of this strike you as providential?” He wiped crumbs from his fingers with a crumpled napkin. He looked up, appearing chagrined. “Sorry, I know you don’t understand.”

“I understand the word.”

“No, I didn’t mean that, nor that it was providential you grew up in foster homes.” He shuffled the salt and pepper shakers around. “What I’m trying to say is… It sounded good in my head when I was thinking it out.”

“Why are you here?”

“Would you have supper with me tonight?”

She knew she was being stalled. “I have to work the evening shift, but even if I didn’t, why would you buy me another meal?”

“I’ll meet you wherever and whenever you say. Timing is important to me. Forgive me for seeming secretive or mysterious.”

What kept her here, talking? Him being a gentleman despite her barbs?

Most people had two sets of manners. One set—the pretty, on display set—they reserved for neighbors, friends and maybe their co-workers. The attitude they handed out to the help reeked. Maybe Ben had only one set. He seemed authentic and his interest in her was intriguing.

“I’m off at four, but I have to be back at work by six.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside of Singer’s.”

“Just meet me here at the restaurant.”

****

This time Juli felt less awkward and more in charge. She’d decided to take the meal at face value. It was just a meal, after all. Not a commitment. No one could make her do anything she didn’t want.

Ben said, “I used to be involved in several businesses, but I’ve been making changes.”

She chewed her cheeseburger.

“I was in business with my cousin, that is. We’re about the same age. We’re good friends.”

Juli gave a little grunt, but offered nothing more as she took a long sip of iced tea.

“I have a sister, but she lives in Ohio. We lost our parents several years ago.”

This time, she did speak. “I’m sorry.”

He left openings for her to question him or to offer information about herself, but she didn’t—deliberately. Finally, he, too, fell silent until the end of the meal.

“Could we take a walk?” Ben asked.

“What do you want from me?”

“Please?” He looked around at the filled tables. The supper crowd was building.

This was her neighborhood. Her turf. She didn’t feel vulnerable here and she was curious. One walk and then they’d be done. Afterward, she’d send him packing.