Chapter 21: Earth

“I wish I could follow you to Peli Peli and watch this non-date,” John says. “I almost feel bad for poor, fat-calf Henry.”

“His calves are fine.” I stomp. Sadly, stomping in sandals isn’t very satisfying.

“Well, you won’t mind if I walk over with you,” Jesse says. “Just to meet the guy, right?”

I shrug. “You can crash the dinner, as far as I’m concerned. Now that you have a new job, we might even be able to afford an appetizer to split.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” Jesse says, “I don’t think I’ll do that to poor Henry. The world is already stacked against him, after all.”

I shake my head. “I swear, his calves are fine!”

“Actually, I offered to take your brother to Torchy's Tacos to celebrate,” John says. “You’d be welcome, but maybe we’ll have to take a rain check, since you’re booked up.” Even when he’s suppressing a smile, John has a dimple. Some things in life are monstrously unfair.

I don’t know what to say at this point, so I look down at my feet, wishing I’d had the foresight to paint my toenails.

“If we do have to hang out in the future, I can just find a bag to wear over my face,” John says. “You know, so you won’t be stuck looking at me.”

I snort. “Oh please. Your face is gorgeous. That’s not the problem.”

“Not the problem?” Jesse puts his hand over his mouth. “I told you she’s a handful.”

“Gorgeous huh? Well, I’d like to take the compliment, but ouch. Apparently it’s who I am that makes me so vile.” John winks, and I realize he’s mostly teasing.

“I’m done sticking my foot in my mouth for the evening, I hope,” I say. “So I better head over there to meet Henry.”

“Good luck,” Jesse says. “And make sure you grab that paycheck first thing. If things get awkward, you at least want to leave with what you went to get.”

I roll my eyes as I hug Jesse. “Congrats on the new job. I’m excited.” I step back. “Thanks, John, for taking a chance on this big nerd. He won’t let you down.”

“I can already tell that’s true,” John says.

I step off the curb and begin walking toward Peli Peli.

Jesse and John start walking too. . . three steps behind me.

I turn around, ready to complain, when I remember. Peli Peli’s across the street from Torchy’s. We’re walking the same way. I’m the idiot who made a big production of heading out. Maybe I’m not done being awkward for the night.

“Care to join us on the walk over?” John’s lip twitches with humor and his eyes sparkle.

“Uh, I’m not used to this area yet.”

“No worries,” John says. “Can I recommend the bobotie? And the peppadews are amazing. They aren't on the menu alone anymore, but if you ask, they'll bring you some.”

“Wow, you're quite the expert,” I say. “You must eat there often.”

John shrugs. “There are quite a few restaurants close to our office, but lunch comes around every day, and if I work late, dinner rolls around too. You get to know all the menus pretty quickly.”

“I completely understand,” Jesse says. “In fact, I don’t mean to brag, but at my last job I developed an impressive proficiency with Cup o’Noodles and Pizza Pockets. I can make eight—no, wait, nine—different things with them in the microwave, including a combo meal that’s surprisingly disgusting.”

“Spoiler alert,” I say. “All nine of his ‘recipes’ taste disgusting.”

Jesse hisses out of the side of his mouth. “Dude, don’t embarrass me in front of my boss.”

“Too late,” I hiss back. “You just used the word ‘dude’ non-sarcastically.” I look up, smiling in spite of myself, and realize we’re not alone anymore.

Henry’s two dozen feet ahead, leaning against the hood of a white Range Rover. He smiles when he sees me and waves. He looks kind of amazing, cleaned up and not elbow-deep in soap bubbles. I guess I'm so accustomed to looking at him sideways in the kitchen that I didn't give much thought to what he might look like in the real world. He's a pretty well-built guy and he’s wearing shorts, which showcase his perfectly normal calves. Ha!

His shaggy brown hair and huge, rich chocolaty eyes create a California Skater/Boy Next Door hybrid that I never fully appreciated. All in all, at least Henry’s not an embarrassment. Plus, as a bonus, John and Jesse will probably assume it's Henry's Land Rover, with the way he's casually waiting beside it.

“This is Henry, I presume,” John says. “Listen, Alice, if this gets too awkward, just tell him your brother texted you 911 and needs your help with his new job. We’ll be right across the street, and in my experience, tacos can fix most anything.”

“I think I'll be fine, but thanks.” I peel away from them and cross the street toward Henry. “Hey, thanks for meeting me out here. You hungry?”

Henry stares at my face. “Wow, you look amazing.”

“Uh, thanks,” I say.

He beams at me, which only strengthens the California surfer charm. “I’m so glad we’re finally getting together away from work.”

I cough. “I’m starving. You?”

“Only all the time.”

My kind of guy.

He glances behind me and raises one eyebrow. “Who are those guys? They’re kind of staring.”

“The one with brown hair is my brother. The black-haired guy is his new boss. That's actually why I picked La Centerra. My brother had an interview here, and I figured I'd come along for moral support. And, you know, to look for a new job.”

Henry slouches farther against the hood of the pristine Range Rover. “They both look pretty young.”

I glance around nervously, hoping there’s not an angry rich guy around the corner glaring at Henry for draping all over his car. Henry's not a small guy. If it were my car, I'd be worried he'd dent it or scratch it or something.

“My brother’s only a year older than I am, and his boss is pretty young, but it’s a startup. You know how that goes. I hope the business stays around long enough that it wasn’t a mistake to quit his other job.” I look pointedly at Henry’s elbows, squeaking against the perfect paint job. “Hey, here’s a thought. Maybe we better go inside before the owner of that SUV sees you leaning on it and freaks out.”

Henry's rich brown eyes lock on mine and he quirks one eyebrow. “I think it’ll be fine.”

I put one hand on his arm and tug. “I'm sure you're right, but rich people are weird about their cars, especially on this side of town. You probably don’t know this, but that car costs as much as a small house. I've had a rough couple of days, and I really don't want any more drama.”

Henry covers my hand with his. “No drama tonight, I promise.” He straightens up, and I reluctantly pull my hand back.

I think again about Peli Peli. It would be awful if Henry couldn't pay, since I can’t afford anything on the menu myself. “Are you sure you want to eat at Peli Peli? I went by there today looking for a job, and it's pricey. Like, really pricey. Plus, there are a lot of places around here that are more reasonable.” I don’t tell him I can’t pay for my meal, but I bite my lip and hope he understands the subtext.

Henry reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope. He passes it to me. “It's fine, I swear. Here's your back pay, by the way. Paul says you always take it in cash.”

I bob my head, my cheeks flushing. “Oh, right. I do. Thanks.”

“Why do you take your pay in cash?” He tilts his head.

A million excuses pile up on my tongue, but a wave of exhaustion rolls over me. I’m sick of lying to everyone about everything. He doesn’t even know my real name. Jesse and I have exactly zero friends. I’m so afraid of anyone getting close that I’ve created an airtight bubble around me and Jesse. A very lonely bubble, sometimes. The lies. The stories. I’ve gotten so used to lying that I lied to John without even thinking about it. Maybe I lied to John about Henry being my boyfriend to get out of a date, but why? He’s a good-looking guy, and as far as I know he’s not mean to puppies or old ladies. I should have been jumping at the chance to get a free meal.

Suddenly, I can’t do it anymore.

“Alice isn’t my real name.” I suppress the shudder that runs through me at peeling back a tiny layer of my habitual armor.

“It’s not?” His eyebrows pull together. “Are you secretly a spy?”

“It’s a nickname,” I say. “My real name is Alora. And I get paid in cash because I don’t want my income reported to anyone.”

“Well, I like Alora better than Alice anyway. And look, since you’re confessing things, I will too. You don't need to worry about anyone yelling at us.” He holds up a key fob and the Range Rover he’s been leaning on chimes. Then he presses another button and it beeps. “This car’s mine, okay? And I swear I can afford to pay for dinner.”

“You're a dishwasher, Henry. How can you afford a car like this and a restaurant that has fifty dollar entrees?”

Henry sighs. “Can I explain inside?”

“If you can promise me that I won’t get stuck washing dishes tonight to pay for a bunch of peppadews, then sure.”

“You like those too? They're my favorite.”

“Focus, Henry.”

“Okay, my name really is Henry—I’ve been honest about that. Just like yours is Alora.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s just that my last name is Perry.”

He stares at me like that should mean something.

“It’s stupid right? Henry Perry. It’s a terrible first name for someone whose last name is Perry. At least my parents seem to be better at running restaurants than naming kids.”

And it hits me. Perry’s is owned by a family. . .apparently Henry’s family.