Deal

Chapter 4

“Hey, sweet cheeks.” Even before my eyes locked with his, I knew exactly who’d spoken to me. And the very idea of his ever-amused expression made me grimace. Seriously? I thought incredulously, catching his brown eyes. It’s a freaking Monday! Doesn’t he have anything better to do? Like work? As I continued toward table 25, albeit much more slowly now, Lucas leaned back into the booth with a crooked grin and continued, “Why so glum?”

“Oh, no reason,” I lied cheerily, plastering on my brightest grin. Eyeing the empty space around him, I asked, “No Alex or Jason?”

“Nah,” he responded, leaning forward now and grinning wider. “Disappointed?”

“Immensely,” I replied and he snorted. After my first night waiting on him, there really was no use hiding my annoyance. Though I knew it was what he was looking for, to get a reaction out of me, I was never all that good at hiding my emotions; even if I tried to remain composed, he’d get a reaction out of me eventually. Might as well give him what he’s looking for out front. Maybe he’d leave me alone quicker. “Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”

He looked at me thoughtfully and I found myself shifting awkwardly. After a moment, he closed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, and replied, “Hmm… I’ll just have a water.”

Great. I frowned. At least if he’d ordered four alcoholic beverages like last time, I would presumably make enough money in the tip that waiting on him wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

“Of course,” I forced a smile and spun around to walk toward the bar.

“Don’t forget a lemon!” Lucas called after me. I could almost hear the amusement that was undoubtedly evident all over his face. Clenching my jaw, I continued my strut toward the bar.

When Tuesday rolled around, I had barely made it five steps down the stairs to greet Mason and throw my purse and jacket in the Employee’s Only room at the start of my shift, when my attention locked on to the familiar pair of chocolate brown eyes and crooked, toothy grin. I stared at him incredulously – he was here again? – and Mason chucked at my reaction.

“Looks like you have a fan,” he exclaimed, winking at me. “He won’t let anyone else wait on him.”

I grimaced, breaking eye contact with the devil-incarnate. “Oh wow, aren’t I so lucky?” Mason chuckled and ruffled my hair, much to my added annoyance.

“I can think of worse things,” he commented, leaning back against the counter. “I mean, I’m straight and even I’ll admit he’s pretty damn good-looking.”

“Oh, stop!” I cried, covering my ears as he laughed. That was the last thing I needed to hear right then.

“Yo, sweet cheeks!”

Correction: that was the last thing I wanted to hear right now.

Mason smirked at him and nodded toward Lucas with a wink. “Looks like you’re being summoned.”

“Fuck you,” I growled, storming off toward Lucas’s table and leaving Mason in a fit of laughter. As I reached the corner booth, I plastered on a grin and spoke through my teeth, “I would really, really appreciate you not calling me that.”

Lucas tilted his head to the side feigning innocence, an expression I’d come to realize was a signature of his. His dark eyes stared up at me in masked amusement as he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweet cheeks.”

“You’re unbearable.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. Not that I wanted to, but given the situation I was in, it was wildly inappropriate. I felt my face and ear heat up and I unconsciously moved my hand to cover my face in a feeble attempt to hide my embarrassment. However, Lucas merely raised his brows and gave me a crooked, interested grin. His eyes trailed across my face and looked me up and down, and I felt myself want to grow smaller and smaller as I grew redder and redder.

Finally, he leaned forward and gave me a curious smile. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

Images flashed through my head immediately, memories I had long since forgotten of. The spring semester of my junior year at Lakeview High. I was in the girl’s bathroom, sitting on the off-white tile floor holding my high school best friend, Andi, as she bawled her eyes out in the crook of my neck. Crying and crying without any hope of stopping anytime soon. The more tears that spilled down her cheeks, the tighter my balled fists became until I couldn’t take it anymore. I was livid. I was out for blood. And before I knew it, I was tugging Andi outside and scanning the halls, scouring every face for his disgustingly perfect one. When I finally caught sight of it, I noticed he was casually leaning again the wall next to the school store in the lobby area, acting as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just broken my best friend’s heart, not to mention the hearts’ of many other of my friends over the course of the last few years. Before I knew it, I was stomping toward him with Andi dragging behind me, silent but still tearing up. When we were only a few feet away, we must have entered his peripheral vision because he stopped what he was saying and turned his head toward us.

It was the first time Lucas and I had ever locked eyes. And it would be the last. Or so I had thought at that moment, four years ago.

I shook the memory from my mind. Lucas was no longer smiling, but studying me carefully and waiting patiently for an answer. Staring back blankly, I wasn’t sure how to answer him. Sure, I disliked him all through high school for what he did to so many girls. That was obvious, especially after that day. And I mean, I feel like I still hold a grudge against him for what he’d done. I know I certainly don’t like him at the very least. However, at the same time, it had been years since then. He was obviously still the same irritating flirt, but thinking about it now, it seemed even more irritating to dislike a boy based on events from back in high school. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, breaking my gaze from him.

“It’s not that simple,” I responded, deciding to keep a neutral response as I stared at a picture on the wall to my left to avoid looking at him. He snorted.

“That’s not an answer,” he stated, leaning back in his booth, arms crossed over his chest. I stared back at him, crossing my own arms over my chest.

“Why not?” I fought, my jaw clenching.

“Because you’re not giving a straight answer,” he responded. “The answer’s either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.”

I groaned. I haven’t even clocked in yet, and already I was having a difficult shift. Deciding to stick with sass, I countered, “Why do you keep coming to my table?”

Silence. From his expression, I could tell I had caught him off guard a bit. His eyes flickered back and forth between mine, as if he were trying to think of some excuse for my question. Finally, he responded by simply stating, “You’re an interesting girl, Camille.”

“That’s not an answer,” I mocked, and he chuckled.

“I’ll answer your question,” he said, leaning forward with a grin, “when you answer my question.” I groaned, and left without another word toward the door entitled Employee’s Only. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mason leaning back against the counter, watching me until I opened the door and was out of both their sight.

Wednesday and Thursday followed suit with the previous days. If Lucas wasn’t already at the booth, he would eventually arrive and would continue to question me and try to get some clear answer out of me. However, I was still stuck with how exactly I considered him, and I found myself dodging his questions and spending more time hiding behind the bar with Mason until he’d leave. He would only stay for a half hour, if that, before he’d leave almost without a trace, minus a couple dollars tip remaining on the table. And every time he left, Mason would pester me about him.

“Does he like you?” He’d ask, and my grimace alone was enough of an answer for him and he’d laugh before returning to his own customers.

On Friday, I’d decided to switch shifts with another waitress so I could get out early, or at least earlier than midnight. Like last week, I was beyond tired and just wanted to get the shift done as fast and early as possible so I could get some rest. As I stumbled through the front doors and down the stairs to put my stuff away in the employee’s room, all that I could think about was how dearly I wanted to be in my bed. My mind was so clogged with these thoughts, I hadn’t even heard Mason yelling at me until it was too late. One of the bussers must have left the restaurant’s mop and water bucket at the bottom of the stairs, because before I knew it I was tripping over it and landing face-first onto the hard ground. I felt wetness all around me in seconds. At first, I thought I had started bleeding all over, until I smelt the stench of dirty water and realized I’d spilled the bucket all over myself. As I grimaced, Mason rushed over to me and knelt to my side.

“You alright?” He asked worriedly, furrowing his brow at me. I nodded slowly and shakily got to my feet. When I was standing, he continued, “Maybe you should go home for the night, Cam. You’ve been working a lot this past month; I think you need a break.”

“But–” I wanted to protest, but we both knew he was right. I’d been working straight from early afternoon until nearly midnight every day since I’d been hired. It had started taking a toll on my body, and I’d definitely have to make a change to my crazy work schedule before I started my other job in a little over a week. I wouldn’t make it a week if I worked all morning into the afternoon with crazy kids, and then worked the rest of the afternoon into the late night serving people every day.

“Not ‘buts’,” he scolded, leaning back against the bar. “Go home and get some rest. Worst case scenario, if no one will cover your shift, I’ll pick up a bit of your slack down here.”

I sent him a thankful smile, and the two of us walked together back upstairs to inform the manager of what had just occurred. Though I could tell he was a bit frustrated given that it was a Friday and one of the busier days, he allowed me to leave and wished me well and a quick recovery. Thanking him and Mason, I sauntered back through the front door and outside. Though it was only seven, dark rain clouds had covered the sky and made it appear as though it were already nighttime. I walked down the pavement and turned the corner toward the back parking lot where there was overflow parking and where employees were supposed to park.

As I passed behind the building, a loud boom of thunder rang out above my head. I looked up in time to feel raindrops hit my face. The cool water felt nice on my face and for a moment, I didn’t move from my spot. However, after a minute, I begin feeling self-conscious and immediately looked around me. A couple paces away, I saw a group of familiar-looking older men standing off by some motorcycles (which probably wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, considering it was now raining). They didn’t look like they were employees, but more like the customers that frequented the bar in the basement of The Loft. As my eyes adjusted to the dark and rain, I made a slightly disturbing revelation: their eyes were on me. I shivered unconsciously. As if sensing my discomfort, one of the men started taking a couple steps toward me and I found myself going through every karate move I’d ever learned in the one class I took ten years ago.

Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped itself around my shoulders. I was about to scream, until I heard a voice that I previously hadn’t found all that comforting. But right now, it was a Godsend.

“Jeez, Camille,” Lucas shouted, pulling me toward him. Surprised, I stare up at him in a mixture of confusion and genuine fear. He stared down at me with a wide grin, saying, “It’s not healthy to stand out in the rain, you’ll catch a cold.” As he started walking me in a direction away from the men, I peeked back quickly and noticed that they’d begun fleeing toward The Loft. He quickly jerked my head forward with his arm.

“Don’t look back,” he mumbled, continuing to walk, even though it was the exact opposite direction that my car was in.

“Okay…” I muttered back, and let him lead me toward a deep blue pickup truck in the back of the lot. He nodded toward the passenger side and, against my better judgment, I did as he implied and got into the truck as he opened the driver’s side and jumped in himself. The inside was pristine, minus a couple of empty beer bottles littering the passenger side floor and a couple of CD cases on the dashboard. For a moment, neither of us said anything as I sat shivering in my wet clothes. In my peripheral, Lucas watched me carefully, though his expression was hard to read.

When I could no longer take the silence, I whispered in a small voice, “Thanks. For…you know, back there.”

“You really shouldn’t leave work in the dark by yourself,” he responded.

I sniffed, turning to look out the passenger window at the rain. “What are you, my father?”

“How about the guy who just saved your ass?” I bit my lip at his words. He was right; I was definitely not in a place to be sassing him. But when I turned back to look at him, he was resting his head against the steering wheel grinning at me. Before I could apologize, he asked, “What are you doing anyway? Do you not have work tonight or something?”

Every time I saw him, I felt like I had more and more questions for him. Like, how did he know I worked every week night? Why did he insist on visiting and pestering me every night? Why did he come to my rescue back there? None of it added it; this just wasn’t the Lucas Fuller I remembered from high school, and it was confusing me more than ever. It was this Lucas Fuller that was making me question whether or not I still disliked him. Making me question if these past four years, doing whatever he had been doing, had changed him. Because I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been growing a bit fond of having someone to chat with, along with my old couple on the main floor.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “What do you want from me?”

Again, silence. His smile disappeared and he stared at me like he had in The Loft a few days ago. I watched as his eyes drifted from mine and he grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. The whole time, I felt like butterflies were having a boxing match in my stomach, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. However, finally, he returned my gaze.

“So, this is a bit embarrassing…” he muttered, still grinning nervously. My butterflies grew worse, but I couldn’t avert my eyes from his. Then: “I actually need your help with something.”

Huh? The butterflies paused. My brow furrowed in confusion. “You need my help?”

He looked away and out the windshield at the rain. From the way he was grinning, he almost looked like a little kid who had just been caught red handed stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. He responded, “Yeah… So I just got back out here from California and there’s this girl back here that I’ve been interested in dating for awhile, but I couldn’t because of the whole being-on-the-other-side-of-the-country thing…”

Wait… Don’t tell me… “Are you trying to ask me to be your wingman or something?” I fumed, shooting up in my seat and crossing my arms over my chest with pursed lips. Great, he really hasn’t changed; he’s still using girls. Except… I paused my thought and looked at his sheepish expression.

“No!” he answered, laughing nervously. “I just… you seem like someone who’s done the whole long-term relationship thing, and I’m not well-acquainted to many girls so…you know…”

He actually wants to date someone seriously? “You want to know how to date someone seriously?” I wondered aloud, and he gave me a thumbs up and a wide grin.

“Exactly, sweet cheeks!” he exclaimed, seeming much happier than he had appeared previously.

I stared at him for a moment, unsure of how I felt about that. Part of me was a bit hurt that he had only been visiting me so that he could eventually ask me to help him win over a girl’s heart, and not just to become my friend. However, on the flipside, he seemed like he genuinely wanted my help with this, like he honestly had no idea how to date a girl without using her. It was a bit sad, but I could respect that he’d had enough of a brain to look for help. But before I could respond, an idea popped into my head and I found myself grinning myself. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I’ll help you,” I responded sweetly, leaning toward him, “but only if you help me.”

“Saving your ass wasn’t enough?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, what is it?”

“Teach me to date around,” I answered, “like you did in high school with all those poor girls.”

The request seemed to catch him a bit by surprise. However, as he stared at my face and I said nothing more, he must have realized I was being serious. He sent me a smirk, pushing himself off the steering wheel and said, “You really are an interesting girl, Camille.”

With a grin of my own, I outstretched my hand to him. “Deal?”

And without a second thought, he took his hand in mine.

“Deal.”