Page 22 of Loaded

“It’s a side, technically,” Bea says. “Hipster fries.”

“Hey.” Matt frowns. “I’m not a hipster.”

“I’m not usually someone who’s angry,” Bea says. “But our angry broccoli’s still amazing.”

“Just try the fries,” I say. “You might have a new appreciation for hipsters.”

Matt grabs an impressively large handful. I swear, it usually looks like the kid can unhinge his jaw. After he pops them in his mouth, his eyes light up. “Wow.” He should not be talking with his mouth full, but he’s barely more than twenty. “These are amazing.” He’s already reaching for more. “What’s that little pepper?”

Bea’s smiling. “It’s a shishito pepper. They’re really fun, I think.”

“Is it citrusy?” Matt asks. “Or grassy?”

I reach for some to see what he’s talking about, but he deflects my hand while simultaneously stuffing another pile in his mouth.

“I think we may need another plate,” I say.

She’s still smiling when she walks off.

A few minutes later, she returns, carrying three plates rather impressively. No tray. She sets the fries down first, shifting the now-empty plate she brought Matt, and then she sets the scallops down in front of me. I’d forgotten I even ordered them. I was kind of looking forward to her picking something for me again.

When she sets Matt’s plate in front of him, his eyes widen. “What’s that?”

“That is the forty-ounce tomahawk,” she says, picking up the empty fry plate. “And it also happens to be the single largest and most expensive thing on the menu. Since your friend clearly called you over to cover for his earlierfaux pas, I figured you’d enjoy sticking it to him on the price.” She gives a little half bow and walks off.

Well played, Bea.

“She is feisty,” Matt says. “The bad news is that she knows your grand gesturewasa grand gesture.”

She doesn’t seem that angry, though. It makes me wonder whether it was the fact that I was pursuing her or my method that upset her. She seems a little shy. Maybe it was more that her coworkers knowing about something like that would be horrible for her.

Matt wastes no time slicing off a huge piece. Before he shoves it in his mouth, he asks, “After you strike out, mind if I take a swing?”

I throw a scallop at him.

I do regret throwing it after I take a bite. They’re not quite as good as the burger Bea picked for me, but they’re the best scallops I’ve ever had by a wide margin. I can’t decide whether it’s because I’m a burger guy, or whether I just liked that she picked it.

I’d probably eat Matt’s weird old meat if she brought it.

Which is why I can’t just give up, even if she really is gay. Or worse, if she’s already decided she doesn’t like me.

6

BEA

Jake’s awake when I get home, reviewing his new script.

I ought to tell him that Easton showed up again. He’d be even more upset than I am, but for some reason, when I open my mouth to say the words, nothing comes out.

It’s really more of an Emerson conversation, but I can’t exactly call and badmouth Easton to his new brother-in-law.

“Tips good?” Jake asks when he looks up.

I shrug.

“My director wants to move filming up. I’d be starting two weeks earlier.”

“You’re leaving again?”