Tug-at-your-heartstrings new adult first love story.
What starts as a bet to avoid cleanup duties at her minimum wage cashier job, wins Amelie D'Amico more than she's ever hoped for.
When Ben, a cute customer who always checkouts at her register, fi...
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Tall stands up and loads his plate with another helping of ravioli. "I should ask for my favorite dishes more often; this is excellent. Did you help Ben make it, Amélie?"
Was that a compliment? To me?
"Or do you only like eating the food?" says Tall.
Not a compliment. Back to assessment, aren't we? Good that I've swallowed the latest piece of ravioli, or I'd need a Heimlich maneuver.
"Amélie cooked most of it." Ben answers the tame words of Tall's question, but misses the drops of venom the older man injected into them with his intonation.
"Ben is a surprisingly gifted teacher," I say. I want to bite back and show Tall that my teeth aren't just straight but also sharp, but I shouldn't. Maybe I'm overreacting. "It was my first time making pasta from scratch." I bring out the polite Amélie. "He encouraged me to do most of the work and guided me through the steps. It was worth it." I share a confident look with Ben. I'm hella proud of myself. I did an excellent job with the food. Let's hope I can enjoy eating it as much as I did making it.
"That's not surprising to us." Nope. Tall's not going to let me dig back into my plate of deliciousness. His hostility can no longer be explained by my overactive imagination. I put my fork down and prepare for his assault. "Our Ben is gifted in many areas. Which makes me wonder how well you know him." Tall and I stare at each other across the table. "When did Ben meet you?"
Starting with a tricky question, I see. I began working at the grocery store in April, but when did I first notice Ben? I'm not that sure.
"Must be about five months ago, when I got the job as a cashier." I hesitate. My instinct to snark at Tall is getting hard to suppress, but I'm supposed to be an adult. It's Ben's family. Let's try extending an olive branch. "But we started talking only a couple of months ago. So, you are right—I don't know him nearly as well as you do."
"I thought he met you over a year ago." Tall tilts his head and looks at Ben in an expectant way. What's he asking about hinting at? I frown. A year ago Dad was alive, I didn't need the extra money and wouldn't have considered a job at a grocery store.
"Don't go there, Tall." Eyes on his plate, Ben sounds menacing.
What's going on between these two? I lean back in my chair, cross my arms on my chest, and wait to see how this develops. An irritated Ben is something I haven't encountered much of.
"I'm glad you joined us here today." Marguerite takes the reins of the conversation back into her hands. "We are lucky to see Ben most every week. Is your family here in Chicago as well?"
Chicago and family. Marguerite has no clue she stepped into an even bigger pile of shit than whatever Ben is trying to avoid talking about.
"My Dad died in April." That makes the room go quiet. No more chewing, scraping the plates or shifting in the chairs. People rarely know what to say or do when death is brought up in a conversation. "And my mom lives in France. I haven't seen her in eight years."
