The Boys Down South by Abbi Glines

23

scarlet

The breakfast rush was over and the lunch rush would begin in an hour. This was the most popular lunch place in town during the weekdays. I tossed the garbage in the dumpster and then stood there a moment. It was quiet out here. No one asking for more coffee, water, butter, jelly, etc.

Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out my phone to check it. Not that I was expecting anyone to call me or text me. Dixie had texted yesterday that she was home from her honeymoon. She wanted me to call when I had time. I hadn’t done that yet.

“Expecting a call?” Diesel asked, interrupting my alone time.

Rolling my eyes, I stuck my phone back in my pocket. “No.” I tried to keep speaking to him at a minimum. Having him around was annoying. He flashed his dimpled grin, and female customers of all ages went silly. Don’t get me started on the ‘charming everyone’ thing he was so good at.

I headed to go back inside, walking past Diesel and the bag of garbage he was carrying. I must not have gotten it all.

“Why do you dislike me so much, Scarlet?” he asked before I could get to the door.

“I don’t,” I lied.

“Yeah, you do,” he replied with a chuckle. “I can’t figure out what it is I did to you.”

Used his looks to get better tips, made terrible coffee, thought he could smile at me like he did everyone else and have me fall at his feet. “Nothing. You did nothing.” I made it to the door and my hand was on the knob when my phone rang. I paused, confused by the sound, because it was rare that I heard it.

It rang again.

“You gonna answer that?” Diesel asked.

I ignored him and took my phone from my pocket to see a number I didn’t have saved in my phone, but I knew all too well. My heart sped up and my grip tightened. Bray.

He’d gotten my new number.

I couldn’t talk to him. Not here. Not now. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready. I moved my thumb over the decline button and pressed it. Closing my eyes tightly, I took a deep breath then put the phone back in my pocket.

“I’m not him,” Diesel said, reminding me he was there.

“What?” I asked confused. Had he said something else and I’d not heard him?

“The guy. The one who made you so damn bitter and angry. I’m not him.”

I wasn’t bitter and angry. Bray hadn’t done this to me. I had. I made my own choices. I wasn’t a hurt female, protecting my heart. He was guessing and he was wrong.

“No, you’re not,” I agreed.

“Then why do you look like you would rather slap me than speak to me?”

He wasn’t going to let this go. I needed a moment alone. To get myself together over the fact Bray had my number and had just called me. But Diesel wasn’t going to give me that. Spinning around, I glared at him.

“No guy made me angry and bitter. I made my own choices and I am living with the consequences. And YOU annoy me. It’s not hate. That’s too strong of a word.”

He grinned. Like what I had just said was funny. “How do I annoy you? Please tell me and I’ll do my best to work on that.” He didn’t sound sincere. Bastard.

“That.” I pointed at his face.

“My face? It annoys you?”

“Yes! Your dimples and your grin. They flash and you get better tips and everyone talks about what a good guy you are. They completely overlook the fact you’ve been in prison. Freaking prison! That’s all okay though because you’re pretty. You can charm them. It’s annoying!”

It felt good to get that off my chest. I probably shouldn’t have said it out loud, but it still felt good. Now if I had a punching bag I could get some frustration out on then I’d be even better.

“You think I’m pretty?” He sounded like he was about to laugh.

“Is that seriously all you heard? You know you’re pretty. You use it like a weapon. It annoys me. We need to get in there and prep for the lunch crowd. I’m sure the new corn casserole Ethel was determined to change is going to cause a fuss with some of the regulars. We won’t have time once they all get here to get things together. I’m going inside now.”

Jerking the door open, I stalked inside and let it slam behind me. I liked the idea of it slamming in his face. Maybe it would mess up his perfect nose. Men shouldn’t be so pretty. It was wrong. Furthermore, it was hard to believe he was ever in prison. He didn’t look tough enough to survive that.

“You look ready for battle,” Ethel said as I entered the kitchen.

“Mentally preparing for the drama that the corn casserole will create,” I told her with a smile I had to force.

She laughed loudly. “That’s my girl. Get tough,” she said then looked around. “Have you seen Diesel?”

Ugh. “Yeah, he’s out back.”

She nodded then headed that way. I used that as my chance to escape to the dining room, without having to talk to anyone else. Cleaning the tables and setting them for the lunch crowd would give me time to get over Bray’s call. Since Diesel hadn’t given me a second of peace.

When the swinging door closed behind me, I stopped and pulled out my phone again to look at the missed call. Debated calling him back. Knowing I wouldn’t do it. Then wondered who gave him this number and why they thought he should have it.

A text appeared as I was staring at it, fighting the urge to call him back.

“I miss you.”

That was all it said. Bray could text three words and my chest tightened. My eyes stung with unshed tears and I had to lean against the wall and get myself together. It hurt. Simply because I missed him too. But if I didn’t keep away, I’d be hurt much worse than this.

I stared at his words a few more seconds then put the phone away. Dwelling on this wasn’t helping me heal. I wanted to tell him I missed him too. But that would only make it harder.

The door behind me swung open, and I closed my eyes briefly, took another deep breath to calm myself, then straightened up before moving off the wall.

“Don’t mind me. Continue to lean against the wall. I’ll take my pretty face and get these tables ready. I like to be as annoying as I can,” Diesel said. Did he ever go away?

“I’ve got it,” I told him and grabbed the soap bucket. “Go do something else.”

I didn’t look at him. “Can’t. Ethel told me to come help you.”

Great. Just Freaking Great.

“I didn’t tell her your annoyance with my pretty face. So she doesn’t know she’s not helping you out.” He was trying not to laugh again.

I took the bucket and shoved it into his hands. “Fine. Clean the tables. I’ll get the flatware.”

“Yes ma’am!” he said, taking the bucket and not complaining when some sloshed over the edge onto his shirt. I should apologize for being so aggressive. But I didn’t. And I walked away feeling guilty about it. Damn his dimples.