He gives me one of his boyish smiles that never fail to charm me. Except for today. “Is that any way to greet a man holding a dozen long-stemmed roses?”
“I’m sorry. Just . . . give me a minute, okay?” I gesture with the plates in my hands, then squeeze past him to bring the food to Mrs. Augustino and the other table.
Daniel is leaning against the lunch counter when I come back, his smile dimmed a little as our gazes meet. He’s trying to be cheerful, but there’s a note of worry in his expression. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning. I got very concerned when you didn’t reply.”
“I’ve been working for the past few hours.” It’s not really an excuse for ignoring him, but I’d rather not lie, either. I feel my frown pinch even more. “How did you know I was working today?”
“I stopped by your house. Your mom told me you picked up a shift.” He leans in close and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I thought you were meeting Rush this morning.”
“I was. I did.” I shake my head. “I really don’t want to talk about it. Like I said, I’m working.”
It’s a brush-off and he knows it. I can see the note of rejection in his eyes. “Mel, are we okay?”
“Sure.” I tilt my head at him. “Aren’t we?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
At that same moment, Shelly, the server whose order I delivered, swoops up from her break in a cigarette-scented flourish. “Ooh, roses for me? You shouldn’t have!” She cackles, draping her arm over my shoulders. “Who’s the good-lookin’ suit, Mels?”
“This is Daniel,” I murmur, an awkward tension pulsing unnoticed by my coworker.
“I’m Melanie’s boyfriend.” Without missing a beat, Daniel’s gaze flicks to the plastic nametag pinned above her left breast. “Nice to meet you, Shelly.”
She beams at him before glancing at me and widening her eyes. “You better get those pretty roses into some water, girl. Go on, take your break. I’ll watch your tables.”
“Thanks, Shel.” I’d have preferred to keep working, but avoiding Daniel isn’t going to make things better. I take the bouquet from him and he follows me through the kitchen to the small break area near the back door of the diner. Although to call the battered card table and rickety metal chairs a “break area” is a stretch.
He takes a seat as if he intends to stay a while.
I can’t resist inhaling the sweet perfume of the flowers, no matter how inconvenient it is to be given them while I’m in the middle of the lunch rush. “I’ll go look for something to put these in.”
I return with the roses placed in a water-filled iced tea pitcher. Daniel grins up at me while I choose to remain standing.
“Do you like them?”
“They’re beautiful.”
When I don’t offer anything more, he puts his elbows on his spread knees, clasping his hands together as if in prayer. I’ve seen this pose before, when he and I stood in front of Jared Rush that first night. Now, I can’t help but consider this Daniel’s groveling stance.
“So, you did meet with Rush today, then?” he asks after a moment.
I barely nod.
“For how long?”
“Not long.”
He swallows, his hands still fused together as he glances up at me. “Did it . . . go all right?”
“Not especially, no.”
The breath he exhales carries a heavy edge. When he speaks, his voice sounds contrite, almost pleading. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”
“No, Daniel, I’m not.” I set the roses down on the table, then step back a pace. “The only way this is going to work between us is if I do this thing with Jared Rush and we never speak of it. Not now, and not after.”
A tendon throbs hard in his jaw. “If he touches you, Melanie—”
“He hasn’t.”
“Goddamn him, if he hurts you in any way—I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you asked me to agree to pose for him.”
Daniel’s anger stutters to a halt. “W-what?”
I didn’t say it with any venom, but he sounds so horrified and wounded, I’m almost sorry I said it. Almost.
“Mel, what other option did we have? Rush wasn’t going to let me leave that house without paying him what I owed. I don’t have that kind of cash.”
“Not to mention the money you owe in Las Vegas,” I remind him.
His brow furrows. “That’s right,” he says, keeping his voice low enough to be drowned out by the rest of the kitchen activity. He reaches out and takes my hand between his. His palms are moist and cool, but his grip is firm. His eyes implore me. “Listen to me. I love you. I know I’m never going to be able to make this up to you, but I’m going to do my damnedest to try.”
“Then you can start by telling me why you kept your gambling problems a secret from me.”
He flinches, his head snapping back before he blows out a heavy sigh. On a low curse, he drops his gaze to our joined hands. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to see you looking at me the way you are now. I didn’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”
As I stare at the top of his lowered head, more of Jared Rush’s words come back to me. All those little seeds of doubt that I wanted to deny have started putting down roots since I left his house this morning.
“Are you keeping any other secrets from me?”
“What? No.” His head comes up, his gaze stark. “I’m not, I swear to you, Mel.”
I want to believe him. God, I’m desperate to believe him. After several months together, I need to be able to trust that this kind, loving man is who he’s shown me to be. If the solemnity in his handsome face is any indication, he must be telling me the
