The Chosen

“Yup. Oh, I love Kent Jones.”

“Me, too.” He paused at the main road they’d tried the night before. “Hey, I know a great all-night diner. It’s nothing fancy—”

“I’m not a fancy kind of female. Basic is way okay with me.”

“You’re not basic.”

Funny how that statement, coming from a male who was dressed like that, who looked like that, who was handling this fine automobile as he did, felt pretty much as though she’d been given the Miss America crown, a Nobel Peace Prize, and the keys to Buckingham Palace all at the same time.

Okay, fine, maybe that was hyperbole, but her chest was suddenly singing and her head was bubbly as a glass of champagne.

“So how was your first night on the job?” he asked as if he wanted to fill the silence.

Clearing her throat, Therese started to answer the question on the surface, leading with her three mistakes, but he was so easy to talk to, pretty soon she was going deeper than that.

“I was so worried I wasn’t going to be good enough. I really need the job, and the other two I was looking at didn’t pay as well.”

“Do you need an advance or something? I could loan you—”

“No,” she said sharply. “Thank you, though. I came into the world alone and I will deal with my problems alone.”

As his head turned her way sharply, she dialed it back. “I mean, I don’t want to be a burden on anyone.”

Oh, bullshit. The truth was, she wasn’t going to allow herself to be vulnerable anymore to anybody for any reason. But that was going to sound waaaaaay defensive and weird in the current context.

“So how about that Syracuse game,” she said. “We were checking our phones in the kitchen while we were waiting on service.”

“Oh, my God, I was glued to my phone, too. That zone defense was insane …”

And he’s into college hoops, she thought with amazement. This male was seriously, like, a unicorn.

The diner turned out to be a whole lot of awesome, the front part of the establishment a converted railcar, the rear a proper restaurant with tables. The vibe was very New York, with the waitresses something you might have seen on Seinfeld back in the day, all wearing matching, cheerful unis, with attitudes like you’d broken into their houses and defecated on their living room sofas.

Fantastic.

“So the specialties here are pies, coffee, and the potato wedges,” Trez said as they sat in the back right next to an exit sign. “And french fries. They do a good hamburger, too. Oh, and the chili is great.”

As he opened his menu, his eyes roamed around. “I forgot, they also make a mean Reuben. Also the roast beef.”

Therese cradled the menu to her chest and just smiled. “Any chance you missed First Meal?”

His black eyes flipped up to hers. “What? Oh, ah, yeah, I was opening tonight.”

“Do you own a restaurant?”

“No, a club. Well, two.”

Tilting her head, she nodded. “You know, I can see that. You look sleek and sophisticated.”

Their waitress barreled up to the table with a pair of waters that she all but threw at them. “What do ya want to eat.”

Trez indicated to her. “Therese?”

“The Reuben. Definitely the Reuben. I don’t have to look at the menu.”

“Fries or chips,” came the bitchy demand.

“Fries, please. Thank you.”

The waitress looked at Trez. “You.”

None of the woman’s statements were questions. It was more like what a mugger would say as he put a gun in your back and wanted your wallet.

Trez put the menu aside. “Cheeseburger. American. Medium. Fries. Two apples, two Cokes, and a refill on the soda before dessert. Check, please, cash no change.”

The waitress flicked her eyes in his direction. Then she nodded like she was knuckle-pounding him in her head. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

As the woman walked off, Therese laughed. “Clearly, you know your way around the females.”

“At least human ones who are serving at close to two in the morning and have another four hours before they can go home, at any rate.”

They chatted until the woman came back with the Cokes and then didn’t miss a beat as they were left alone again.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always been a hoops fan. Spartans all the way. Huge Izzo fan.” Therese took a test sip of her soda and had to sit back with a moan. Oh, the ice cold, and the sweet, and the carbonation. “This is seriously the best Coke I’ve ever had.”

“Long night, probably thirsty.” He smiled. “Perspective is everything.”

True. And then there was also the fact that this amazing guy was sitting across the table from her.

“How is it you’re not mated,” she blurted.

As his eyes popped, she thought, oh, crap. Had she said that out loud?

Abruptly, that dark stare went elsewhere, roaming around the interior full of empty tables and chairs. There were only two other couples in the place, both at the counter in front, and Therese was almost certain that if they had not been within eyeshot, he would have gotten up to pace.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That’s none of my business.”

“It’s, ah, it’s okay. Yeah, I guess you could say that love just didn’t work out for me.”

“I can’t imagine why any female would leave the likes of you.” With a wince, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Okay, I’m going to stop talking now. I keep putting my foot in it.”

As he sat back, that smile returned for a second. “I find your candor refreshing, how about that?”

“Hey, I have an idea. I like to be proactive about things, so can we just chalk this whole meal up to my being exhausted? You know, excuse everything that comes out of my mouth in advance? I think we’ll both feel better about this when it’s over.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Wait for it. The food hasn’t even arrived yet.”

“I like honesty.”

“You do? Well, you’re in luck with me. My parents always said …”

As she let that drift, he murmured, “What?”

Therese shrugged. “Oh, you know, that I don’t have a filter.”

“Are they back in Michigan?”

“No.”

“Have they passed?” he asked with a frown.

How to answer that one. “Yes,” she said. “My mahmen and father are dead.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” He seemed so very sincere, his lips thinning, his brows dropping. “That’s got to be so hard.”

“It’s why I came to Caldwell.”

“Fresh start?” When she nodded, he made a move like he was going to put his hand over hers. But then he stopped himself. “It can be hard to go on when you’re the one left down here.”

“Let’s talk about something cheerful.” She cracked her neck and then smiled with determination. “You know, anything else but families and past loves that didn’t work out.”

He returned her smile. “That leaves us with a lot of possibilities.”

“Doesn’t it just.”

“Hey, listen, will you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Will you let me find you a place other than that rooming house to stay in?” He put his hands up. “I know, it’s none of my business, but that is a really shady part of town, and I’m not saying that you can’t take care of yourself. It’s clear that you’re an intelligent, perfectly capable individual who can run her own life. But, I mean, really. It’s that dangerous.”

“You’re sweet.”

“Not sure that that’s quite the descriptor most people would apply to me.”

“Okay, so what would they say?”

Yes, she was trying to change topics, but not because she was creeped out by his offer. More because she had a strong inkling to take him up on it.

“Nice pivot.”

“I’m sorry?” she said.

“That’s a very deft way of telling me to mind my own business.”