Page 29 of Here's to Yesterday

6

“What time doyou get offtonight?”

I jump at the sound of Tucker’s voice and spin around to get a look at him. He’s in his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt with an open flannel over it, so I know him being here can’t be for a specialoccasion.

I squint at him. “Why?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Kinda wanted to show yousomething.”

Show me something?“Like?”

“Part of the reason I don’t ever take those businesscards.”

“I thought it wasn’t your story,” I saysuspiciously.

“It’s not. But this is only one part of it. It’s a two-parter. Only one is up for grabs tonight,” he tells me, rocking back on his heels once. Then a small smile forms. “Plus, you’re apparently my manager, so I figured you had the right toknow.”

I laugh at this. “Do you have amanager?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. Never needed one. But feel free to keep pretending. You’re anatural.”

“Are you gonna pay me if Ido?”

“Not a chance,” he says on a chuckle. “So?”

“Sowhat?”

“Is it a date? Tonight afterwork?”

My heart rate picks up at the mention of a ‘date,’ and I’m not surewhy.

Either way, itshouldn’t.

“Not a ‘date,’ but yes. I get off at eleven. Is that cool?” Iask.

He gives me a full smile now. “Yep.”

I turn around and start clearing off the table, assuming our conversation is over. But I assumeincorrectly.

“You okay with me staying here? Or is that toostalkerish?”

I want to laugh at his not-so-subtle reminder of my bitch attack the other day, but I don’t. Because having him stay here for the next two hours makes me nervous ashell.

And again, itshouldn’t.

But I find myself nodding an affirmativeanyway.

“Cool. I’ll be overthere.”

I turn to see where he heads off to and quickly move toward him, placing my hand on his arm. He turns at my touch, coming mere inches from bumping into me. He looks down to where I’m touching him and then back up at me. I notice how different his eyes are. Darker, deeper, and somehow morebeautiful.

Removing my hand, I take a stepback.

“Um, you don’t want to sit over there. Clarissa’s working tonight,” I tell himquietly.

Clarissa is…well, she’s a bitch. For no reason. She’s mean and spiteful. And she’s a huge flirt. Like going home with a different guy each night and sometimes not making it out of the parking lot. Okay, so she’s more than a flirt, but I’m not into talking trash aboutpeople.

Last year when I met Tanner, Tucker, and the gang, Clarissa would not shut the hell up about them. She would constantly go on and on about how hot they all were and how theyallwanted to “fuck her so bad” each chance she got. She’d occasionally include Hudson in this little spiel of hers when she knew Rae was into him. But she didn’t care. Each time the guys came in we’d have to secretly divert her attention so she wouldn’t end up with their table since there aren’t sections here at Clyde’s. It’s all first come, first serve. And that’s crap news when you work with a horndog likeClarissa.

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