It Ends With Us

I had every intention of hiding out in my room tonight, but these two make it hard to walk away. I take a seat next to Brad and reach across the table. “Hand me those,” I say to Darin. He’s shuffling the cards like a one-armed infant.

He raises an eyebrow and pushes the deck of cards across the table. I don’t know much about card games, but I can shuffle cards like a pro.

I separate the cards into two piles and scoot them together, pressing my thumbs to the ends, watching as they beautifully intertwine. Darin and Brad are staring at the deck of cards, when there’s another knock on the door. This time the door swings open without pause and a guy walks in dressed in what looks like a very expensive tweed jacket. There’s a scarf wrapped around his neck, and he begins to unwind it as soon as he slams the door behind him. He nudges his head in my direction as he walks toward the kitchen. “Who are you?”

He’s older than the other two, probably in his mid-forties.

Atlas definitely has an interesting mix of friends.

“This is Lily,” Brad says. “She’s married to an asshole and just found out she’s pregnant with the asshole’s baby. Lily, this is Jimmy. He’s pompous and arrogant.”

“Pompous and arrogant are the same thing, idiot,” Jimmy says. He pulls out the chair next to Darin and nudges his head at the cards in my hands. “Did Atlas plant you here to hustle us? What kind of average person knows how to shuffle cards like that?”

I smile and begin to pass cards out to each of them. “I guess we’ll have to play a round to find out.”

? ? ?

We’re on our third round of bets when Atlas finally walks in. He closes the door behind him and looks around at the four of us. Brad said something funny right before Atlas opened the door, so I’m in the middle of a fit of laughter when Atlas locks eyes with me. He nods his head toward the kitchen and begins walking in that direction.

“Fold,” I say, laying my cards flat on the table as I stand up to follow him. When I get to the kitchen, he’s standing where he isn’t visible to the guys at the table. I walk over to him and lean against the counter.

“You want me to ask them to leave?”

I shake my head. “No, don’t do that. I’m actually enjoying it. It’s keeping my mind off things.”

He nods and I can’t help but notice how he smells like herbs. Rosemary, specifically. It makes me wish I could see him in action at his restaurant.

“You hungry?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Not really. I ate some leftover pasta a couple hours ago.”

My hands are pressed into the counter on either side of me. He takes a step closer and puts one of his hands over mine, brushing his thumb across the top of it. I know he doesn’t mean for it to be anything more than a comforting gesture, but when he touches me, it feels like a whole lot more. A rush of warmth moves up my chest and I immediately drop my eyes to our hands. Atlas pauses his thumb for a second, like he feels it, too. He pulls his h and away and backs up a step.

“Sorry,” he mutters, turning toward the refrigerator, pretending to look for something. It’s obvious he’s trying to spare me from the awkwardness of what just happened.

I walk back to the table and pick up my cards for the next round. A couple of minutes later, Atlas walks over and takes the seat next to me. Jimmy shuffles out a round of new cards to everyone. “So, Atlas. How do you and Lily know each other?”

Atlas picks up his cards one at a time. “Lily saved my life when we were kids,” he says, matter-of-fact. He glances over at me and winks, and I drown in guilt for the way that wink makes me feel. Especially at a time like this. Why is my heart doing this to me?

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Brad says. “Lily saved your life, now you’re saving hers.”

Atlas lowers his cards and glares at Brad. “Excuse me?”

“Relax,” Brad says. “Me and Lily are tight, she knows I’m kidding.” Brad looks at me. “Your life might be complete crap right now, Lily, but it’ll get better. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

Darin laughs. “You’ve been beat up and pregnant and hiding out at another man’s house?” he says to Brad.

Atlas slaps his cards on the table and pushes back in his chair. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he yells at Darin.

I reach over and squeeze his arm reassuringly. “Relax,” I say. “We bonded before you got here. I actually don’t mind that they’re making light of my situation. It really does make it a little less heavy.”

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m so confused,” he says. “You were alone with them for ten minutes.”

I laugh. “You can learn a lot about someone in ten minutes.” I try to redirect the conversation. “So how do you all know each other?”

Darin leans forward and points at himself. “I’m the sous chef at Bib’s.” He points at Brad. “He’s the dishwasher.”

“For now,” Brad interjects. “I’m working my way up.”

“What about you?” I say to Jimmy.

He smirks and says, “Take a guess.”

Based on the way he dresses and the fact that he’s been called arrogant and pompous, I’d have to assume . . . “Ma?tre d’?”