“People don’t pick up after themselves,” I mutter.
“You talk to yourself a lot.”
“Guess I do.” Picking up a used tray, I carry it to another and balance the two all the way to a trash. “There are four garbage cans in here. Loads of possibilities. Why are people so lazy?”
“Is that the sound of you cleaning up a restaurant?”
“My parents owned two.”
“Past tense?”
“They’re retired. Look at this. They haven’t filled the napkin containers either. Whoever works here is dropping the ball, too.”
Diana chuckles, “High standards.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I wouldn’t respect you otherwise. I’ll pick you up at seven on Thursday.”
“I didn’t say yes yet!”
“You were about to.”
“Okay, yes. Pick me up at seven.”
“I’ll try to forget that you didn’t tell me you knew about my fan group.” Heading to the counter, my gaze on their delicious, glowing menu overhead, I tell Diana just to rile her up, “If there’s anything else you’ve been holding back, now’s the time.”
Another pause.
A long one.
“Diana?”
“Wyatt…”
“Don’t sound so serious, jeez. I’m just messing with you.”
“Wyatt…”
“Know what you want?” a teenager asks, his eyes empty from boredom.
Dropping the phone to my chest I tell him, “Gimme the same thing I just got.”
“What did you have?”
We stare at each other. “I was here five minutes ago. Maybe seven. Ten tops.”
“So?”
Shaking my head I tell Diana, “I’ve gotta wake a kid up, lemme call you back.”
“Wyatt,” she begins, voice careful. “I…”
“I’ll call you right back.” I hang up, and shove the phone in my pocket as I size up the kid. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“You having fun?”
He makes a face. “No.”
“You want to?”
Eyeing me, a police officer, he cautiously says, “Yes?”
“Kid, if you want to have fun then wake up. Those dead eyes of yours tell me one thing, you’re headed to a bad place where years will pass and you’ll wonder what the hell happened to your life. Or maybe worse and one day I’m picking you up for doing something stupid and locking you up in jail because you were so aimless somebody talked you into being their wingman to a crime. It’s time for you to join the game. Take part. Do your bit.” I point to the dining room that still needs work. “There’s only one customer there now and evidence of a whole bunch that just left. Clean up. Do your best. Make an effort. No, don’t just make an effort, show yourself what you’re made of.”
“I get paid minimum wage,” he flatly says as if that means anything.
“And you will keep making minimum wage if you do minimum work. You want to have some fun? Challenge yourself. Push yourself. Build up your confidence because I can tell you’ve got little. Nobody’s going to give it to you. And if someone didn’t teach it to you, then let me teach it to you right now. Be someone you look up to and people will look up to you. If you don’t know what that is yet, search deep. Find what you care about. If you can’t think of anything yet because you’re too far gone, look to your role models. They could be famous people dead for centuries. I don’t care. But find someone you can look at and say, there, them! I’d like to make them proud if they popped down from the Heavens. Make the change. It’s up to you. Now get me those two pre-wrapped BBQ sandwiches and take them out of your minimum wage. This lesson was worth far more than that.”
“I have to pay for your food?”
“With skin in the game, you’ll remember this conversation. And ring me up. Never steal. No confidence built from stealing, got me?”
He awkwardly turns around and trudges to the heat lamps, brings me my lunch and hands it over. No bag.
“Much obliged,” I nod, grab a sandwich in each hand, and stroll on out.
CHAPTER 25
THAT EVENING
WYATT
A handful of speeding tickets issued later and Washington and I walk into the station at the end of our shift. Larter passes us on his way home.
Our disbelieving gazes follow him for a beat before we exchange a look.
Under his breath, my partner says, “Why doesn’t he wear running shoes? They’d get him out of here faster.”
I agree, “Better for his arches, too.”
Washington chuckles, “You so stupid.”
Locking eyes with Lyne I give her a nod of pure professionalism. She holds on me, hoping for more flirtation and chalking up the lack of it to my caution around Chief’s watchful eye.
Truth is, Fiore hasn’t been on my ass ever since I gave her an out, and some respect. She’s been in her office most days, coming out mostly to assign cases to her detectives who then disappear with her to learn necessary details in private. I don’t need to tell Lyne that I’ve met somebody I’m interested in, someone who has me thinking about her whenever police duties don’t require my full attention.
My business is my business.
Sleeping with fellow officers was always a ticking time bomb anyway. I like the idea of dating outside of this world.
I like the idea of Diana.
Washington and I walk into the locker room and find a predictable visual – Eudy sitting on a bench cataloguing today’s activities all by himself.
My partner and I exchange another look, as he opens his locker. “Why don’t you tell Larter he should do that?”
Not looking up, Eudy mutters, “Ya think I don’t? Think I signed up for this without complaint?”
“Yeah,” Washington admits. “That’s what I did think.”
“Then you have a low opinion of me.”
“On the contrary,” I argue while unbuttoning my uniform shirt and tugging it free from my pants. “We have a high opinion of you. You’re the only one of two people doing their job.”
“It’s not that bad. When we’re out there, he’s alright.”
Shirtless now, airing out the day, I dig my vibrating phone from my tight
