Chapter 41
Kat took complete advantage of the server’s inability to look higher than her neck, getting sample after sample on those tiny spoons, her tongue flicking out, licking and groaning obscenely. She pushed a few of them on Andy, too, insisted on spoon-feeding him, quite literally. Finally, she made some decisions and ended up with a bowl of ice cream the size of her head, with five scoops and a ton of toppings.
“What do you want, Andy?” She said, digging out her wallet, which involved peeling it out of her soaking wet shorts.
“Mint chocolate chip,” Andy said. He eyed the rain outside and vetoed a cone, in case she decided they had to go out again before it was finished. “And to know what you’re really up to, but I’m pretty sure I’m only going to get one of those things.”
Kat hunched over her ice cream like she was concerned Andy was going to steal it, shoveling hasty bites of coffee crunch into her mouth with abandon. Once Andy got his cup, she dragged them to the table furthest from the counter and sat down. She grabbed a cherry off the top of her sundae and dropped it into her mouth, stem and all. A few moments later, she spat out a small knot into her hand and showed it to him.
Andy put a hand over his eyes and groaned. “I can’t unsee that mental image,” he complained. “Stop trying to put thoughts in my head that will make your fiancé kill me.”
“Scooter taught me,” she said. “He can do three at a time, in a little chain. You should get him to demonstrate.”
Andy lowered his hand just enough to glare at her. “Thanks. I can’t unsee thatmental image, either, now.”
“Is it so terrifying?” she asked. “You watch him all the time anyway.” She nudged at his calf under the table.
Well, the back of his neck was warm now, at least. He should’ve known he wasn’t being subtle enough to escape Kat’s notice. “It’s pointless,” he muttered into his ice cream. “He was very clearabout his rules.”
Kat licked her spoon. “The thing about rules, Andy,” she said, very seriously, “is that they’re subject to the will of the ruling body. In this case, Scooter’s ruling body. They are not written in stone, and there is no, how do you…oh, right. Police. There’s no police to enforce it. He can change the rules, any time he wants to. No one will mind.”
“No one’s stopping him,” Andy said petulantly. “Stop pretending your English isn’t perfect just to be a brat.”
“It gives me time to think,” she said easily enough. “But I’ll stop underestimating you. You’re very quick, for all that you’d rather people not notice it. That’s a compliment.”
Andy glanced at her, and mushed at his ice cream with the spoon to make it soft. “I was a gifted student, as it happens,” he admitted softly, because she was observant. “For all the good it’s done me.”
“Scooter…has learned some things the hard way,” she said. “It is not my story to share with you, and he does not talk about it much. But he made a big mistake, once, and paid a big price for it. So he thinks that if he does everything right, follows all the rules, then nothing else can go wrong. But we know that is not how life works. So he clings to the rules and both of you are unhappy.” She sighed. “He sees the situation like this: on the one side, he is your boss. He is your landlord. He holds all the power.” She made a scale with her hands, pushing one hand higher with each example, the other lowering to the table. “He does not want you to see this…this imbalance, and think obligated. I told him I would not push, and I am not pushing. I am…cleaning the glass between you, so that maybe, you can see better.”
Andy snorted. “Also, you are splitting hairs, probably. But it’s okay, I won’t rat you out.” He stirred his ice cream some more, watching it slowly turn to soup, and turning her words over in his head. Holding them up to the light. “It’s not that I don’t know what you’re saying,” he said carefully. “But I just…” He sighed, cautious. “In my experience, it’s the people with power who get to make all the decisions.”
“Then your experience has been shit,” Kat said, sudden, harsh. “Scooter is a better man than that.”
Andy’s eyebrows tugged upwards at her vehemence. “I know he is,” he said mildly. “I…hadn’t really thought about it, I guess.”
“It’s hard for you,” she said, putting her hand on his wrist. “I’m sorry. I am pushing. I am pushing very hard right now, and Scooter is right, I am bad. But I see you two, staring and looking and wishing and wanting and…it’s painful. You shouldn’t have to be hurting when you can be happy.”
Andy recalled, vividly, the expression on Scooter’s face at his birthday, when Andy had kissed him. Pleased, even…hopeful? Had he been waiting, all this time, for Andyto say something first? What a pair of idiots they were. He flashed a smile at Kat. “Thanks. I’ll…I’ll think about that.”
She was scraping the bottom of her bowl. Christ, where had she put all that ice cream? Did she have some kind of dimensional portal in the center of her stomach? She eyed his melted sludge. “Are you going to eat that?” 17
Scooter loved private parties. Dockside didn’t get very many, but sometimes summer families would rent out the whole restaurant, which was a food fee, and a rental fee, and staffing fees. And despite all that, it was actually easier to take care of one large group than a dozen smaller groups. Which meant while the Munroe family was downstairs stuffing themselves on crab cakes and boiled shrimp and playing bar games for a rehearsal dinner—the oldest boy, Timothy, was finally getting married to a girl from Ohio, who wanted a beach wedding and was just over the top enthusiastic about everything Sandbridge—Scooter could take a fucking evening off and breathe.