“What are you talking about?” Booker wanted to know.
“Don’t turn around now, but Josh Hill just walked in.”
Without bothering to put down his fork, Booker immediately twisted in his seat to stare at Josh.
“Booker! I told you not to turn around,” Rebecca whispered harshly. “I don’t want him to see me. I’ve had enough of him and his girlfriend.” But it was too late. Josh had spotted her and Booker, had obviously noticed Booker’s less-than-friendly glare and was busy returning it, with interest.
“Hi, Josh, just one today?” Rebecca heard Peggy, the other waitress, say.
“Two,” he said, but he didn’t break eye contact with Booker.
“Just ignore him and eat your food,” Rebecca muttered.
Booker listened about as well as he had the first time. He smiled, rather malevolently, at Josh as the hostess began to lead him to a table.
With Booker working so hard to attract Josh’s attention, Rebecca couldn’t exactly cower in her seat and hope to go unnoticed. Folding her arms, she lifted her chin and watched her nemesis draw closer.
As she should have expected, he recognized the challenge in her eyes (or maybe it was Booker’s glare that did the trick) because he stopped as soon as he reached their table. With a tip of his black cowboy hat, he even had the audacity to flash her that crooked grin of his—the one that showed the dimple in his right cheek—as though he hadn’t left her furniture sitting out, unprotected, on the lawn. It had taken her and Booker two evenings to put it all back.
“How’d the move go?” he asked.
“Great. Thanks to my friend Booker.” Spine rigid, Rebecca forced a taunting smile of her own, irritated that the sight of Josh always seemed to kick up her pulse. But it had been that way for so long, she doubted it was likely to change—another reason she was glad to be leaving Dundee.
“You get your key?” he asked.
“Katie gave it to me.”
“Your table’s the one over there,” Peggy said, briefly interrupting to point Josh in the right direction.
Josh nodded to acknowledge her words and she hurried off to take care of the customers still crowding the entrance. “Well, next time you want to wake me up at night, don’t bother calling, Rebecca. Just come on out,” he said. Then he winked at her, grinned at Booker and took his seat in the booth across the aisle.
“What was that all about?” Booker asked.
“Nothing. Josh has some sort of problem, but I don’t know what it is.”
Booker downed one piece of bacon and then the other. “I already told you what it is.”
“What?”
“He wants you.”
“He left my furniture on the lawn!”
“So?”
“You have an amazingly simplistic view of life,” she said.
“You’ve mentioned that.”
“I suppose you think I should tell him to go to hell.”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
For once, Rebecca tended to agree, but she wasn’t about to say anything right now. Mary Thornton had arrived and was giving them a condescending smile as she passed their table on her way to join Josh.
“Too bad she’s so uptight,” Booker said, shaking his head and staring after her. “She’s got a nice ass.”
Judy brought them their check, and Rebecca quickly threw down her credit card. Suddenly Hatty’s house didn’t seem like such a bad place to be. Canning pickle relish was certainly preferable to watching Josh and Mary eat. “I really don’t want to hear about Mary’s ass,” she said once the waitress moved away.
“Okay.” He shoveled another mouthful of food into his mouth. “Can we talk about Katie’s?”
Rebecca arched an eyebrow at him. “To think I once had a place of my own.”
“Did you get me a ticket to your parents’ big bash yet?” he asked after swallowing.
“I can’t begin to imagine why you’d want to come. You know my father hates you. He’s told the chief of police to keep an eye on you.”
“Barney Fife can follow me around all he wants. He’ll get damn bored after a while, though. It’s not that exciting watching me clean out the garage.”
Rebecca laughed in spite of herself. Regardless of what others said about Booker, she found him rather endearing. “I’ll call my father when we get home. The worst he can say is no.”
“That’s the attitude,” he said. “You want the rest of my pancakes?”
“No.” Rebecca tried to keep her attention on Booker and her own coffee, but she couldn’t help listening for Josh’s voice.
“What would you like?” she heard him ask Mary.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Mary responded, and Rebecca ground her teeth. Couldn’t that woman have an opinion of her own?
She glanced back at the two of them, curious to see the expression on Josh’s face, but his menu was in the way. All she could see was the adoration in Mary’s eyes, the solicitous hand on his arm—and thought she might be sick. Let Josh marry Dundee High’s old cheerleading captain and have a passel of brats as empty-headed as their mother. Rebecca was getting out of town, anyway.
“Rebecca?”
She turned back to Booker. “Hmm?”
“You want to tell me what suddenly has you so preoccupied?”
“Nothing,” she said, fiddling with the sugar substitute because she could no longer meet his eyes. “I’m just ready to go.”
He said nothing for a moment. When she thought it was safe, she looked up, but he was still watching her closely. “You’re scaring me, babe,” he said.
She took a sip of her coffee, even though it had grown far too cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leaned closer. “For a minute there, I thought you wanted Josh Hill right back.”
“No way,” she said, “That’s crazy.”
He chuckled and didn’t pursue the subject, but she knew he didn’t believe her for a minute. And she couldn’t blame him.
LYING ON HER BED, feet dangling over the side, Rebecca stared at the message Hatty had handed her as she came in.
“Buddy can’t make it next week. Something came up. Says not to worry about the airfare, though—he never purchased his plane ticket. Give him a call.”
Rebecca crumpled the paper and tossed it at the waste-paper basket in the corner of her room, then rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Damn! How could Buddy miss her parents’ anniversary party? She’d told him how important it was to her, how badly she needed to see him. Shortly after the party, she’d have to announce that he’d postponed the wedding; in order to avoid the inevitable skepticism, she needed Buddy to smile and hug her and let everyone know that he still wanted her. If he didn’t show up, all the murmuring and knowing glances were going to be much worse. And now that Josh was apparently on the verge of getting engaged, and Delaney was so close to the end of her pregnancy, Rebecca felt like the whole world was passing her by while Hatty took full advantage of her free labor. She could easily imagine standing in the kitchen labeling jars of dill pickles when she was fifty-five….