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Chapter FOUR

"Have you traveled?"

"No. I was born in New Zealand, though. I lived there until I was six. Does that count?"

"New Zealand, cool! I'd love to go there. Do you remember it?"

"Some." Wisps of it float across the screen of my mind, blue water and green hillsides, sunshine pouring down like liquid. "My dad still lives there." Not that we've had any conversations in a long time. Like eleven years or so, since my mom got remarried.

"I envy you." He eyes me, glances over to the bar, leans forward. "Here's the deal, Jessie."

"Jess, please."

"Okay, Jess. I have somebody who's quitting. Her husband is Army and they're moving to Georgia, but I'm not sure when. She's not sure when. So it could be a few days, it could be a few weeks, I don't know. I'm being honest with you here. I'd love to hire you-Tyler says you're a great server-and, I don't mind saying, you're pretty and the customers like that."

I half-smile. "Thanks."

"But honestly, you might want to keep looking for something else."

There's a sting of tears in the back of my throat, but I don't let them show. I'm going to have to keep applying, keep showing up in strange new places to ask for work, and it just sounds exhausting.

"I appreciate it," I say, standing up.

"I hope I'll be calling you soon," he says.

"Thanks, Sam." I shake his hand again, as professionally as I can, even though what I really want to do is throw myself on him and beg for a job. "Hope to hear from you."

I feel like a spotlight is shining on me when I walk out. I fumble my keys out of my bag and head blindly for the car. My heart feels squashed, and I just want to go home and cover my head with the pillows until morning.

As I'm unlocking my car-with an actual key, which some of my friends think is hilarious-I hear my name. "Jess!"

I turn, and there's Tyler, jogging toward me. He's shed his cook's apron, and his hair is flying, the gold streaks amid the brown glittering with sunlight. A little blood comes back into my heart and it starts beating again.

He looks like a prince, a long-lost prince of some nameless northern country who should be ruling but has tragically been stolen away from the family.

"How did it go?" he asks, and before I can answer, "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" He points to the coffee shop on the corner.

What I should do is go home and get ready for the show tonight, the show my boyfriend has been nervous about all week. Rick. I keep forgetting about him.

"Something wrong?" Tyler asks, touching my arm.

I look up at him, all the drama and trauma of the day washing over me. "It's just been a crazy day. And I have a boyfriend." It sounds stupid when I say it like that, like I'm expecting something.

"It's just a cup of coffee." He tugs me away from the car and puts my hand over his elbow. "I only have about twenty minutes, anyway. Can't get in too much trouble that fast, can you?"

I'm pretty sure Rick would throw a fit over me having coffee with a guy, but right now, I don't care. So close, I can smell his skin, and his arm is strong beneath my fingers. I think of the way he took charge of a bad situation this morning, and I don't actually want to be anywhere else. "Thanks."

"Everything's going to turn out fine, you know."

"Really." My voice is droll. "Easy for you to say, Rich Boy." It sounds mean when I hear it out in the world. Accusing... "Sorry. I don't know why I said that."