Unease slithers down my spine as Misty skips across the quiet restaurant toward him like Brenna might when excited. She throws her arms around his neck.
“Good grief. Don’t tell me that girl is stupid enough to go back for seconds.”
“I wish I could tell you that.” From the way she’s hanging off him, batting her eyelashes and giggling, it looks like she is exactly that stupid. When did this happen? The last I heard, he had messaged her on Facebook. But she hasn’t mentioned him since. Granted, she’s been doing a stretch of night shifts lately, and I’ve been so preoccupied with trying to avoid all talk of Brett—I still haven’t told her, and I’m likely a horrible friend for that—so maybe there’ve been signs that I missed. It would definitely explain why she hasn’t been hounding me.
Misty catches my eye. “Cath! Look who came to say hi!” Grabbing his hand, she leads him over with a wide grin, oblivious. As if I’d be happy about DJ popping in.
“I’ll be in the kitchen before I say somethin’ I’ll no doubt regret,” Lou mutters, vanishing before they reach us and she’s forced to be civil.
“Hey.” I plaster on a tight, fake smile, trying my best to be polite.
His gaze skitters over me. “How’s it goin’?” On first glance, he hasn’t changed all that much. He still has that cool, indifferent way about him. Like if he has to talk to you, he will, but he couldn’t really be bothered.
Despite his good looks, I never could see what Misty found appealing in him.
“I’m good.” I know this is the part where I’m supposed to ask how he’s doing, but all I want to do is get away from him.
Uncomfortable silence hangs.
He finally offers, “Saw you on TV. That’s one crazy story.”
“Right?” Misty’s eyes widen. “I still can’t believe Cath saved Brett Madden’s life. I was really hoping something more would come out of it.” She gives me a pointed stare.
Yup. So glad I haven’t told her.
Thankfully the kitchen bell dings then. “Hey, Misty, can I get your help with these plates?”
“Sure thing.” She grins at DJ. “Why don’t you grab an empty table. I’ll be there in a sec.”
I wait until he’s gone and we’re by the food warmer. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” She frowns.
“He’s a convict, Misty. He’s not a good guy! And have you forgotten that he cheated on you? Many times? Why would you waste your time with him?”
I can already see the shutters closing over her eyes, the ones she is so adept at using to avoid what she doesn’t want to face. “He asked if he could come by and visit me one day and I said yeah. It’s no big deal. We’re just friends.”
“Come on, Misty. He doesn’t want to be just friends. Don’t be stupid.”
She flinches, like I slapped her. A long moment passes, and I can’t read what’s going on inside her head. “So what if I do decide I want it to be more? So what? I’ve always stood by you, Cath, no matter what you’ve done.” She drops her voice to a whispered hiss. “I think you’re absolutely insane for blowing off Brett, but I’ve kept my mouth shut, haven’t I?” I avert my gaze. “And all those months you sat around pining over Scott, even while he was parading around town with his girlfriend, did I ever tell you that you were stupid? No. Even though everyone right down to Whiskers could see the truth of it.”
Whiskers. Misty’s blind cat . . . “You should have said something, because I was being stupid.” I glance over to see DJ seated by a window, his attention on his phone. “I’m saying this to you because you’re my friend and I care about you.”
Her eyes dart around us. “About me? Or about you know who not finding out he’s a father.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is you standing here and assuming I can’t figure things out for myself. You’re no different than your mother right now.”
My mouth drops open with that well-placed insult. I am nothing like my mother! “I can’t just sit back and watch him hurt you again without saying something. What kind of friend would I be?”
I stifle my own gasp.
The words feel like an echo of what my mother said last Sunday. Am I turning into Hildy Wright?
If Misty notices my shock, she doesn’t let on, a broad smile stretching across her face. “We’re not going to fight about this. DJ just wants to be friends, and if he doesn’t, well . . . I’ll decide what’s best for me.”
Lou plows through the kitchen door then. “Less gabbing, more moving. Those fries’ll get cold.”
“I’m gonna take my break now,” Misty says, reaching for two of the club sandwiches.
“No, you’re not. Cath needs to eat before she leaves to get Brenna. You can go after her and I’ll cover your tables.”
“But DJ—”
“Can sit there and play with his little chain all day long, for all I care,” Lou grabs the other plates in my order. “Cath, get on back there. Leroy set some lunch out. Paper’s on my desk.”
I shrug at Misty and mouth, “Ten minutes,” because Lou is clearly not happy about DJ being here and I’m not about to pick a fight with her when she’s in a foul mood. Plus, I’m growing more curious about whatever it is Lou insists I need to read.
A bowl of soup and a Greek salad wait for me on a prep table. I grab them and offer a thanks to Leroy. He merely smiles before turning his attention back to the grill, humming to himself.
I head for the office and, using my hip to bump the door shut, settle in behind the desk. Leroy’s tomato-basil soup is one of my favorites and I happily shovel a spoonful of it into my mouth.
And nearly spit it all over Lou’s desk when I see Scott Philips’s smiling face staring up at me.
Balsam County Realty—his mother’s real estate firm—took a full-page color ad spread in the local paper to welcome their latest agent to the firm.
Scott is going to be working for his mother
Which must mean he’s moving back to Balsam.
But why? What happened to his job in Memphis?
I drop my spoon into the bowl, sending splashes of soup in every direction. Balsam is too small to have him living here again. But maybe I’ll be lucky. Maybe he’ll decide to live in Belmont, or Sterling.
The door creaks open. I recognize Lou’s heavy sigh without turning around. “I figured you should see it now, in case you run into him in town.”
Run into him, or just see his face splashed all over the place. Balsam Realty dominates this county. Very few properties get sold that don’t have the Philipses’ family fingerprints on the paperwork.
God, I’m going to be seeing Scott’s face everywhere.
“What happened?”
“Well, from what I heard, he made some sort of deal with the school and the parents of the girl to keep things quiet, and resigned. Who knows what happened there.”
Of course he got off.