Page 84 of You Spin Me

“Yeah, well, when you’re a target, that’s a survival skill. What’s the bad news?” I lift my glass. “No more late-night beers for Cal?”

“You haven’t sat on that stool all week.” He juts his chin at the bags of to-go containers on the bar next to me. “You pick up the food and skedaddle out of here. I figured you had something better to do with your time. Or someone better to hang out with than me.”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” I can’t stop the cocky grin that takes over half of my face.

Phil crosses his arms over his chest, tatted biceps bulging. “So what happened? She break up with your sorry ass?”

“She’s busy tonight. Soyouhave to deal with my sorry ass.” I lower my chin and raise my crooked brows. “What is it you need to tell me?”

Elbow on the bar, he blows out a breath. “I think it’s actually good news. I’ve been talking to some people at St. Francis House. It’s a homeless shelter over in the Combat Zone,” he clarifies. “Anyway, we’re expanding what you and I started here. They’re talking to the health department, and I’m recruiting other restaurants. They’ve got a van and volunteers ready to go.”

It’s selfish, but it feels like Phil’s taking something away from me. “You think Walt and his buddies are going to deal with the health department? Or people demanding that they pray before they can eat?”

“The social worker at the shelter said they’ve had success with making contact—like you’ve been doing—by bringing meals. Then they turn the trust they’ve built up into helping these guys get off the street. At the very least, giving them a choice. They don’t have to go to church or anything.”

“That’s hard to believe. I mean, it’s called St. Francis.”

“I think they’re good people with good intentions. More important, they can feed more people than you and I can alone.”

I take a sip of my beer. Rationally, I know he’s right, but delivering food made me feel… worthwhile. Not a good reason to stand in the way of the guys getting a chance at something better, though. “Guess I’ll have to hang up my superhero costume.”

“You don’t have to be the lone caped crusader, Cal. You can help in other ways. Talk about it on the radio, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“And now you’ve got a girl to spend your nights with.”

“Until she gets tired of hiding in the shadows with me.”

“Or maybe you’ll get tired of hiding in the shadows?”

I gesture at the empty bar. “You’re one to talk.”

He rolls his eyes. “Drink up. I’m ready to close up.”

“I’ll miss you, Phil.”

“Maybe you’ll come in some night at a normal time.”

“Yeah, and maybe the Sox’ll win the World Series again someday.”

He sighs, a dreamy look on his face. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Break the curse of the Bambino.”

“Got to have hope for the impossible, huh?”

“Shut your mouth.” He snaps a bar towel my way. “And get out of here with your last delivery. The van’s taking over Monday.”

Chapter23

We’ll return to part forty-four of this Saturday’s Million Dollar Movie,Elvis meets Costello, right after this.

JESS

I totally feel like a teenager right now. For one thing, after getting Cal on the line, I stretch the phone cord to its limit and hunker down in the pantry so I can have a little privacy, like I did growing up. And two, I have that giddy feeling in my tummy about talking to a boy, one I don’t think I’ve had since I was twelve.

When did I get so fucking cynical about romance?

“So, tell me. Did you want to be a DJ since you were a kid?” I ask.

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