“We can shut down for the break. We never get any traffic that weekend. Or why not let Juliet run the place? She’s doing a great job.” Al grinned at me.
“We’ll see.” Reed looked out the window. He seemed distant, and I wondered what was up with his family.
“It’s time to stop making excuses. Life’s too short to hold grudges.” Al got up and patted Reed on the back in a really familiar way. I was almost positive their relationship went beyond employer and employee.
“Well, as fun as this has been, I’m going to leave you two. Pleasure meeting you, Juliet.”
“Uh, you, too.”
Reed followed Al out, and I just stood there. He returned a minute later. “Sorry about that.”
“Yeah, that was kind of awkward.”
“I had no clue he was stopping by.”
“I figured that much.”
“If it’s any consolation, he liked you.” He put his bag down behind the counter. It was a briefcase kind of bag, not the backpack he usually carried.
“Who is he?”
“Al. The owner of this place.”
I leaned back against the counter. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Who is he to you?”
“My uncle.”
“Oh.”
“I lived with him for my last few years of high school.”
“Oh, cool.” I wanted to know more, but at the same time, I didn’t want to be rude. What I really wanted to know was where he’d been.
“You’re dying to know where I went today, aren’t you?”
I laughed nervously. “How’d you know?”
“It’s the look on your face. It’s a total giveaway.”
“I’ll try to be less obvious next time.”
“I volunteer at a school downtown. They had a mock debate today, and they wanted me to judge.”
“Really?”
He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing an Al’s Pizza t-shirt underneath. “Yeah.”
“That’s—”
“Wait, let me guess. You think it’s cool.” He tossed his dress shirt on top of his bag.
I laughed. “Yes. I think it’s cool.”
“Other than Al, did anything happen in the hour I left you here?”
“Unless you count that order for twenty-five pizzas, no, nothing unusual.”
“Good to know. Well, feel free to get work done or whatever. I’ll take care of the rest of the prep.”
“Thanks.” I pulled my laptop back out and opened Word.
“What are you working on?” he said from right behind me. I guessed he was looking at my screen.
“The first assignment for my writing seminar.”
“Yeah? It doesn’t look like you’ve gotten too far.”
“Very funny. I have no idea what to write.”
He sat down next to me. “What’s the assignment?”
“It’s supposed to be easy, an analysis of our favorite book.”
“Where’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a favorite book.”
“Because you don’t read?”
“Of course I read. I just don’t have a favorite.”
“Just pick a book you like.”
“But that’s like saying one’s better than another.”
“They’re books, not people. You know that, right?” he said really slowly. “Here, try this.”
“What?” I asked as he moved behind me.
His hands covered my eyes. “Name a book.”
“What are you doing?”
“Name a book.”
“Why?” If I had any doubt before, I now knew his hands were strong. They felt strangely comfortable on my face.
“Just do it, Juliet.”
“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
He removed his hands. “There you go.”
“That’s not my favorite book.”
“Then why’d you name it?”
“Because you’re acting crazy, and it’s a book about crazy people.”
“It is not a book about crazy people…it’s so much more than that, but I’ll let your comment slide.”
I turned around to look at him. “I take it you’re a Ken Kesey fan?”
“Wow, you know the author. That settles it. Get out of here, find a copy, and write the paper.”
“Like, go to the library?”
“Yes. Ever hear of it? I’m giving you a few hours off—to do work. Not to hook up with Dylan. Oh, and if you can get back by nine, that would be great.”
I ignored the Dylan comment. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
“You helped me out earlier.”
“Okay, I’m off to the library.” I grabbed my stuff.
Chapter Thirteen
Two hours later, I was halfway through the book. I was also ridiculously hungry. I texted Reed to see what he wanted for dinner. I was starting to get used to how things worked at Al’s. I worked with Reed until eight or nine when a few other employees came in. I basically did nothing and got paid. All in all, it was a good system. Reed said he’d eat anything, so I picked up burritos on my way back.
“I hope you like chicken queso.” I handed Reed the bag.
“Love it. Good choice, Annie.”
“Would you please stop calling me that?” I unwrapped my burrito. Smelling it the whole walk over had been torture enough.
“Does it really bother you?”
“Yes. I keep thinking you don’t know my name or something.”
“I know your name, Juliet.”
I used a napkin to wipe up a few drops of hot sauce that had spilled onto the countertop. “Good.”
“How about if I call you Oakley? Does that bother you?”
“Not really. At least it’s not another girl’s name.”
We’d just finished dinner when Justin and Danny walked in. Those guys seemed to work every night, which made sense because they only worked four or five hour shifts. They were the ones who usually made the pizzas. I took the orders and brought the food out to people if they didn’t want to stand around and wait.
I didn’t expect such a large crowd on a Wednesday night. I knew Thursdays were big, but the middle of the week? I recognized a lot of the people from around campus, but it was different seeing everyone in going-out clothes and obviously drunk. By ten o’clock, I was exhausted. Of course, that’s when Dylan and his friends decided to walk in.