Like I don’t know that.

“But he’s sitting with a bunch of old ladies. Is he...weird?” She tilts her head as though thinking about it.

“We already know he’s nice.” I feel defensive. “He’s the kind of gentleman who will take four ladies out for breakfast. That’s the kind of guy he is.” I know my tone sounds a lot more militant than it needs to. I try to modulate it. “They’re ladies from our apartment building. All of them have been recently widowed, and they kind of hang together. They have him watching their parakeet for some reason. I’m not sure why.”

“Interesting. Well that’s really kinda sweet. They’ve all lost their husbands?”

“Yeah. It’s almost like a widows club, only they upholster furniture. It keeps them busy, and they get to see all the people who go in and out of the apartment every day. That gives them people to talk to. And Pete is just that kind of guy.”

“I see. Someone has stars in her eyes, and is looking at Pete through rose colored glasses.”

“He’s a catch.”

“So he’s the one who sent you the just friends flowers?” Connie asked, finally processing what I said earlier.

I nod vigorously, still clutching my notebook. “What do I do?”

“Well if you don’t want to be just friends with him. Maybe you should tell him that.”

“I’m not making any more money now than I was before,” I cry out, frustrated.

“But we decided that didn’t matter. Money isn’t the driving force. As long as you guys can pay your bills, you don’t have to worry about making a whole pile more money. Some people waste their whole lives doing that.”

“I know, but you have to make enough to survive. And I’m not.”

“Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s making enough for both of you.”

I press my lips together, and try to pull myself out of my panic mode.

“Now, wait on them just like any other table, although you can flirt with Pete.”

“Flirt?” I’ve never flirted. I’m not exactly the kind of girl who flirts. I’m way too serious for that kind of thing.

“Sure. Bat your eyes, tease him a little, giggle, and laugh at all of his jokes.”

“I don’t have to force myself to laugh at his jokes. They’re funny. He’s got a great sense of humor.”

“Yeah. You got it bad. After fifty years, those jokes will get old,” Connie says, lifting her tray onto her shoulder and heading towards the door.

“He’s a good guy. Go after him. You don’t want to let good guys get away.” Connie pauses, and then she backs through the doors, holding the tray so they don’t slap it, and then disappearing as the door swings shut.

‘He’s a good guy, and you don’t let good guys get away.’ He sent me flowers. Although, they were just friends flowers. Maybe I’m putting the cart ahead of the horse, and he’s not really interested in me at all. That was the dilemma I was having before. Then he put his arms around me, and...I’m very confused. I’m going to have to talk to him about this. But, not now. I’m not going to talk to him in front of all the ladies at the apartment building. As far as I know they don’t gossip about us, but it’s possible that they do and they just don’t gossip with me, and I don’t want everybody in the apartment to know that I have a huge crush on the man who arrested me for indecent exposure and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me other than to just be friends.

I’ve had enough embarrassment in my life, I don’t need that on top of everything else. I try to calm myself, as I finish filling out the drinks, and set them on my tray.

I can do this. I can be calm, I can be cool, I can be collected, and I can not act like a simpering fool, who can’t do anything but stare at the guy she has a crush on.

I push through the door, and my determination lasts until I hit the table, then, as I’m setting the first glass of ice water down in front of Pete, my hand shakes, and, you know how you see something coming and you know what’s going to happen but you’re powerless to stop it?

Yeah, it was one of those times, because as I’m setting the glass down, my body is moving forward, and I can’t stop myself,and the glass ends up tipping, and Pete ends up with a lap full of ice water.

Chapter 24

Pete

I saw the water coming. If I had better reflexes, I might have been able to move to stop it. As it was, I was in the process of sliding out of the booth seat when it hit my lap.

Zoe squeals a little, and I know she didn’t mean to spill it on me. It was an obvious accident. I feel bad for her. Of course she’s embarrassed. But, as I’m throwing myself out of the seat, still in avoid mode, even though I’m soaking wet now, she moves toward me, grabbing the rag out of her apron pocket and like she is going to somehow dab it up.