Page 56 of Stroke of Fate

Right. I’ve avoided this topic for days, but I guess time’s up.

I raise a brow. “So, you’re forcing it out of me by luring me to a fake dinner date?”

“No, dickhead, I’m wooing it out of you by getting you to meet me for dinner. And we’re eating, nothing fake about it.”

“Fine, but can I at least look at the menu first?” I grab the laminated card off the table and scan the various options.

“You already know it by heart,” he mutters, plucking it from my hands.

“Only because your ass has been so persistent about eating here all the time. What’s up with that, anyway? Didn’t realize you were such a fan of this place.”

Since returning from summer break, Mack has insisted on eating here whenever we decide to grab a bite. Sure, the food’s good, but he won’t even consider going elsewhere.

“What’s not to like?” He shrugs, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. “Good food, affordable, and cute servers.”

Speaking of servers, I notice Macy walking up to our table over Mack’s shoulder. I thought she looked oddly familiar at the party, and now I realize it’s because I’ve seen her around before but never connected the dots.

Her narrowed gaze burns into Mack’s back the closer she gets.Huh. That’s not the usual reaction he gets from girls.

“Hi, Levi,” Macy says before glaring at my best friend. “Levi’s friend.”

Mack shifts in his seat and mumbles a quick hello.

“What can I get you guys started with?” Flipping open the notepad in her hand, she taps the pen, keeping her eyes glued to the paper.

A strange tension lingers in the air, and when the silence stretches on, I quickly jump in with my order since it’s clear Mack isn’t going to speak up.

“Water for me, and we’ll have the guacamole and chips to start.Thanks.”

Once she has it written down, she stiffly turns to Mack, tight-lipped, and waits for his response.

Mack runs a hand through his hair, almost like he’s…nervous?

“I’ll have a root beer float,” he mumbles, causing Macy’s hazel eyes to narrow into tiny slits.

“We don’t have that on the menu.” There’s a hint of boredom in her tone, but how she’s gripping the pen in her hand is worrisome. She looks like she is contemplating stabbing him with it.

The fuck?

I give him a questioning look, but his attention is solely on Macy. I feel like I’ve stepped into a parallel universe. One where Mack drinksroot beer floats,and his charm is resistant to females.

His following words earn him a glare from her. “I know you have it.”

“Non-menu items aren’t for customers,” she says through gritted teeth. “So, what’s it going to be? Root beerorice cream?”

Mack laughs, the sound coming out awkward and forced

“Fine, Coke is good. Thank you.”

Without another word, she turns and leaves.

“What the hell did you do to piss her off?” I say, watching Macy stalk off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Nothing,” he waves me off like it’s no big deal.

Having had front-row seats to whatever that was, it seemed very much like a big deal. And something tells me we won’t see her for the rest of the night.

My suspicions are confirmed when someone else brings us our drinks.

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