Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Hey, Becks, that’s probably because you cheat.”
“I do not.”
“There’s no way in hell someone gave you a fifty-dollar tip on a ten-dollar lunch.”
She batted her baby blues at him. “I may have been wearing my special blouse with the very deep neckline.”
“Which is cheating.”
“You’re just jealous. You’d work these too, if you had them.” She cupped her ample bosom.
“True.”
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re back.”
“So glad you’ll give me the window section tonight?”
She snorted. “Not likely.”
“Figured, you’re only nice when it suits you.”
“I’ve got kids to feed.”
“No you don’t.”
“Okay, well, I have future kids to eventually feed and a huge pile of credit card debt to pay back.”
“Fine, but next time we play Battle Tips prepare to get your butt whipped.”
“Bring it on.”
“A customer is trying to get your attention.” Z nodded at a man in her section waving his hand in the air.
“Whoops, see you later.” And she was off to tend to the table.
The rest of the night was a blur of taking orders, bringing plates, and hoping for tips large enough to make the twinge in his ankle worth it.
They’d all gone to the station after the arrest, but Lirim refused to see him. Z didn’t blame him really. Lirim might still be a free man if Z had made better choices, if he hadn’t told Connelly about Lirim dating Keller, if he’d never gone to Castor for the money, if he’d fucking asked for help before things got out of control.
Yeah, that was the big one, wasn’t it?
If nothing else, the entire chaotic situation had brought home just how headstrong and oblivious he could be. Looking back on the sequence of events he could pinpoint the exact choice that had led him into hell. The exact moment when he’d made the conscious decision not to tell his friends he was in trouble. He could blame Landon for leaving him high and dry. He could blame Lirim for being naive. He could blame Castor for being a pig. He could blame the inevitably of the universe getting off on his torture like he’d always done before. He could even blame Connelly for going behind his back, though that was becoming weaker and weaker with every passing day.
But the real cause of the mess his life had become was his stupid fucking pride.
Three words would have put him on a completely different path.
I need help.
That’s all he’d needed to say. He knew that now. He’d learned his lesson.
He watched his fingers fold a napkin like they were someone else’s. His mind worked to identify the source of tension while his body continued on autopilot. He wasn’t usually so self-reflective, but over the past couple of weeks he’d reconnected with a piece of his inner child he’d lost along the way. The piece who looked at the world like a great adventure. Who looked at people and saw the potential for incredible happiness instead of inevitable pain. The one who’d sat on his mother’s lap and dreamed of fairy tales.
“Hey, Z, someone just left this for you.”
Z turned to see Becca holding a familiar envelope. His heart began to race. “What?”
“It was on the hostess podium and has your name on it. Look.” She handed it over.
He didn’t need to open it to know what it was, but he did anyway.
Tucked in beside the cash was a piece of paper. With shaking hands, Z pulled it out.
“Who’s it from?”
“Um...cover me?”
Becca’s face scrunched. “Yeah, sure.”
He retreated to the privacy of the employee bathroom and sat on a toilet. His eyes teared as he read the note.
You earned this. Don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for how you choose to survive. Not even me. I’m sorry, Azariah.
All my love, forever.
Connelly.
Hands shaking, Z clutched the note to his chest. His heart heard Connelly’s voice, all those pretty words, the confessions, everything they’d spoken about, and it ached.
Connelly had reminded him that knights in shining armor existed and good really did sometimes triumph over evil. Connelly had shown him that sometimes, in order to see the sun, you had to be brave enough to fight through the storm.
Because of that he’d reconnected with a part of himself he’d hidden behind a sassy attitude and bitter cynicism. His hands began to tremble and he sucked in a breath so big it expanded his chest.
How had he not realized?
Connelly had shown him how to love himself again.
* * *
“I really appreciate this, you guys.” Z pushed his head between Ansel and Fitch, who sat in the front seats of Fitch’s giant SUV.
Ansel glanced over his shoulder at him. “We’re happy to help someone else get their happily-ever-after.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I just want to talk to him.”
A look of disbelief passed over Ansel’s face. “Of course, just talking. That’s definitely not something you could have done over the phone.”