“Please get that shit ready so I can be done with those little pricks.”
He nods once and gets down to business, handing me three double cheeses and an order of fries five minutes later, his copper cheeks red from the heat of the grill.
“Don’t look at the pickles too closely and you won’t hurl, babe,” he crows, winking slyly as I grab my tray and load it up. Chances are those pickles aren’t the only thing green on the burgers.
“Christ.”
By the time I’ve delivered their order and eaten more shit, it’s noon and coming up on my break.
“Take it now, toots,” Viola yells at me, tossing a bottle of water in my direction from her place behind the counter. “Lunch rush’ll start in about ten minutes.”
With a heavy sigh I chuck my apron at her and beat feet to the back, my muscles relaxing only when I get outside to the picnic table overlooking the little stream that runs behind the diner.
There I enjoy my cold bottle of water and the turkey sandwich Nic makes me every day.
It’s also where I go, every day, to think about the fact that I’m married to the richest, most powerful man in New York City, and that one wrong move on my part will have him breathing down my neck so fast my head will spin.
Funny that despite three months and so many miles later, I still can’t outrun the pain of it. I feel raw inside at Beau’s betrayal and even rawer knowing that I’d bared myself, my fucking heart and soul, to Vincent, and he’d used that weakness to get what he wanted.
I can’t say that Beau had sold me or that Vincent had bought me, that…I can’t even figure out what it is that they’d done, but I know that I’d been nothing more than a casualty in a deal, a goddamned business deal, and that I meant so little—
“Yo, Lil, your lunch regulars are arriving, doll.”
“I’ll be in in a minute, Vi!”
After a thumbs up and a wink to let me know that the brats have left, she turns back and leaves me alone. I need, hell, I don’t know what I need anymore, but an hour’s worth of sleep after last night’s marathon painting session seems like a luxury that I can’t afford right now.
This is why I don’t think about Vincent often—or as often as my pathetic brain will allow—because I know that if I fall asleep anytime soon, I’ll be dreaming of him and waking up with tears all over my pillow.
Bastard.
“Hey, Doolie, what’ll it be today?” I ask five minutes later.
My regulars all grin up at me—Doolie especially—with their wrinkled old faces and sparkling eyes.
“Just the usual for us, honey. And a kiss from the sweetest girl in Georgia.”
“Sorry, Dool, I’m afraid I have to hold out for a ring and babies. Wouldn’t want to give the milk away for free. Who’d buy the cow then?” I tease, watching them crack up at my usual line.
Truth is that I’d sunk so low that a little flirting from seventy-year-old Doolie makes my goddamned day. Every day.
The thought makes me sadder, and a whole lot mad, and it takes my best efforts to get through the lunch rush without crying or throwing shit around to soothe my temper.
By the time five rolls around, I’m dead on my feet and praying for relief.
“Ah, honey, go on home. Tash’ll be in soon enough to take over. You look plain beat,” Viola murmurs, eyeing the dark circles beneath my eyes that no amount of concealer can hide.
“Thanks, Vi, but I don’t think that’ll make much differnec. Too early to turn in.”
Not that that’s the problem. I’m avoiding home like the plague because I know that no matter how tired I am, I’ll end up in front of the canvas. It’s become my own personal enemy since I arrived here.
All I paint now is dark shit, sometimes ending with a canvas filled with black swirls from corner to corner. I can’t face it tonight without losing my shit and I know it, so picking up another shift, despite my exhaustion, is what I’d planned to do.
“Get your sweet ass home and to bed, Lilly Tom, or I’ll get you there myself. And have Nic cook you up a nice burger before you leave,” she orders, giving me the stare that I’ve come to recognize as her ‘do not gainsay me or I will fuck you up’ look.
There’s no arguing, so I toss my apron at her, grab my tip jar, and skip to the kitchen. When I get there Nic already has a burger and side order of fries wrapped and ready and is wiping down the grill.
“You eat that when you get home, Lily darlin’. You’ve dropped too much weight recently. Oh, and take this, my mama said it’ll put you to sleep in a wink.”
What he gives me turns out to be a medium sized bottle of clear liquid. When I turn the cap off and take a whiff it leaves me spluttering.