Must Like Spinach Page 10

  Whatever the owners of the diner are paying her, Jon decides she’s worth at least double. The only sign of tension she’s shown so far melts after she pulls out her phone again. Her shoulders drop, and she smiles.

  “Cavalry on the way?”

  “Yeah.” She looks over at Jon and smiles. “Be here any minute.” She picks up a pad and pencil. “Appreciate your patience, hon. Now, what can I get you?”

  “I’m waiting for someone, actually.”

  “Jonathan!” Peggy’s snuck up on him, and she’s not alone. Tyler’s a few steps behind her, bleary-eyed, his hair a complete disaster. He doesn’t seem to notice Jon though; his gaze is fixed on the waitress.

  His voice is flat with resignation. “The new guy didn’t turn up again?”

  She winces at his sleep-rough tone. “Crap, Tyler, did I wake you? I’m really sorry to call you, only….” Her voice lowers. “Frank’s doing his best.” Her next shrug is helpless and says a whole lot. “If you can just help him through the rush?”

  Tyler’s already headed around the counter. He washes up and ties on an apron before pulling tickets his way. His focus is quite something for someone who just got done with a particularly hard night.

  The waitress’s next question pulls Jon’s attention her way. It’s teasing but delivered with a smile that’s genuine. “This guy your date, Peggy?”

  “No, silly!” Peggy slides close despite her denial. She’s so small that she fits easily under his arm, even while he sits on the stool. Her voice, however, is far from tiny. Jon’s sure everyone in the diner gets to hear all his virtues as they get shown to a free booth. “He’s renting the apartment over my garage. Isn’t he handsome?” she asks no one in particular and then rolls on without waiting for an answer. “And so clever!” Jon stifles embarrassment when he sees how wide she’s beaming. “And Jonathan gardens!” she exclaims, as if the whole diner needs to know his hobbies. “We talk about it every evening.”

  “Is that right?” Their waitress bites her lip and then offers her hand. “Good to meet you, Jonathan. I’m Candice, and your brunch is on me.”

  Jon keeps his voice low. “Shouldn’t you check with the owner? Besides, I can afford to pay for our meals.”

  “Candice is the owner,” Peggy butts in. “You probably have a lot in common.” She swivels to face the diner owner. “Big companies pay Jonathan a whole lot to make their profits higher.” There’s such an honest edge of pride in her voice that Jon can’t help smiling. It broadens when she adds with an edge of wonder, “He came all the way from New York.” She whispers like the next part is top secret. “He’s really important.”

  “Wow.” Candice’s gaze is suddenly skeptical, although she keeps her tone light. “A big-city hotshot rented your apartment?” Her focus on Jon sharpens. “You planning on staying for long?”

  He doesn’t blame her for being protective. He guesses choosing to live here does sound like a tall tale. No way this tired, blue-collar neighborhood would be first choice for any of the other executives at Bettman. He hurries to reassure her. “I’ll be here for a few months.” Peggy’s sad moue prompts him to add, “Maybe longer. It just depends on the job.” He makes sure to meet Candice’s eye. “Peggy’s got my security deposit. She won’t lose out on rent if I get done with my project early.”

  Her nod of comprehension is small, but her hard gaze slightly softens, like she’s almost convinced. He understands her suspicions—hadn’t he thought Tyler was preying on Peggy’s good nature the first time they met? She smiles again before bending her head over her pad. “So, what’ll it be? Usual for you, Peggy?” She scribbles when Peggy agrees. “How about you, hotshot?”

  He looks over at the counter. Behind it, Tyler and Frank work side by side, although Tyler’s hands move much faster. Hot, but nowhere even close to flustered, is a good look on him. Maybe he senses Jon’s observation. Tyler looks up and blinks like he’s seeing him for the first time.

  This must be how Tyler looks only moments after waking, Jon guesses, his gaze unguarded in a way he’s never witnessed. He’s incredibly appealing like this. If Jon woke up next to someone whose lips parted with the same surprised half smile the moment that he saw him, it would be real hard not to kiss him.

  Their stare holds until someone walks between them.

  “Hotshot?” Candice sounds amused. “See something you like?” Her eyebrow arches.

  “I—” Jon clears his throat. “If I order the stuffed french toast special, which one of them will make it?”

  “That depends.” Candice lowers her voice. “Tell me. You really here on business?”

  “Yup.” He glances at Peggy, who’s too busy cooing at a baby in the next booth to pay them attention. “For Hallquist Holdings. You heard of it?”

  She nods again. “Okay. You want the special? I’ll get Tyler to make it.”

  Jon tucks in quickly when it arrives, all crisply golden outside, stuffed with fruit that oozes once he cuts into his serving. He spoons up whipped cream with his first mouthful, and groans so loud that Peggy giggles.

  “He’s a good cook, isn’t he?”

  Jon’s mouth is too full to answer.

  “And so thoughtful to come help out like this.”

  He nods and scoops another heaping mouthful. Thoughtful is another new word to add to the lexicon he’s been using. He’d glimpsed the same thing in the garage, when Tyler had tried to piece shattered ornaments back together, but he’d judged it as a one time thing. What else has he missed while blinded by first impressions?

  “He’ll make someone a lovely husband.”

  Jon chews rather than answer.

  She spreads cream cheese on her bagel before continuing. “Who wouldn’t want someone so thoughtful and hardworking in their life?”

  A few weeks ago, Jon would’ve disputed her assertions. Now he just keeps his mouth closed.

  “Did I tell you this is where I met him?” She frowns for a moment. “Well, it’s where I met Tyler’s ex first.”

  Jon speaks before taking his next mouthful. “She worked here too?”

  “His ex?” Peggy opens her mouth and then closes it for a few seconds like she’s thinking carefully before speaking. “No. No, they never worked here, but they always came in whenever Tyler worked a shift, and we got chatting about the apartment one day. His ex said they’d take care of my yardwork if I charged less than I wanted in rent.” This time, her shrug is tiny. “Tyler worked here and was at night school back then. His ex never held a job for long, but the chores still never got done. When Tyler found out what his ex had promised, he tried to fit in the yardwork too.” Her gaze drops, and she sighs. “I think his ex told a lot more lies than Tyler ever let slip.” She’s fierce when she says, “They split nearly a year ago, and I was pleased. So pleased. My boy got his certification and finally got to drop all his part time jobs, but then his ex came back outta the blue, and….” She sets down her knife very carefully and keeps her gaze on her plate. “You can’t say anything when someone wants something to work out, can you?” She shakes her head very slowly before exclaiming, “Oh!”

  Something over his shoulder has her sudden, full attention.

  Jon turns just as a man enters, his gaze fixed beyond the counter, smirking when Tyler looks up and sees him. He’s in his mid thirties, maybe, and handsome in a way that Jon wouldn’t swipe left over if he saw him online. Tyler doesn’t return his smile of greeting. His stare is impassive. He simply checks a timer and then points to the far side of the restaurant.

  “Oh, no.” Peggy is clearly upset. Her voice wavers when she says, “He promised….” She pushes her plate away like something turned her stomach when the man walks past their table.

  “Promised what?” Jon asks, but the question dies on his lips when Tyler passes their table too. His expression is as bleak as Peggy’s. Worse, if that’s even possible. Jon sets down his fork. “What’s going on?”

  Peggy’s headshake is small, but when she picks up her cup
of coffee, her hand clearly trembles.

  “Are you worried about Tyler?”

  Her shrug is miserable, but it’s followed by a small nod.

  “You want me to go check on him?”

  Her relief is a soft exhale. “Would you?”

  Jon pushes his plate away. “Is there…?” He doesn’t exactly know how to phrase this or even what he’s asking. “Who was that?” he finally gets out.

  Peggy’s lips press together like she’s holding in a secret before she finally blurts, “His ex.”

  “That guy?” Jon leans over the table and lowers his voice. “You were worried about telling me that Tyler was with a man? Did you forget that I’m gay? I’m the last person who—”

  “No, Jonathan,” she interrupts. “I didn’t forget anything. I remembered that some things are personal, that’s all.” She sniffs and then mumbles, “I wasn’t worried about that at all.”

  “So what is it that you are worried about exactly?”

  Her next statement is so quiet Jon has to lean close to hear her.

  “Danny always finds a way to take advantage. Whenever he’s around, it’s only Tyler who ends up paying.”

  Chapter 12

  JON DOESN’T hurry after Tyler and his ex exactly. He’s paid to be inquisitive at work, but this feels very different. He and Tyler aren’t business acquaintances or even friends, if he’s honest—more accidental neighbors who’ve only recently started speaking. So instead of rushing, he slowly sets down his flatware on his plate and then takes a sip of coffee. They’re simple, everyday actions that steal him another few moments to think. It’s Peggy’s pensive expression that spurs him. So does catching sight of Candice, who takes a patron’s order while glancing repeatedly in the direction Tyler just headed. Her distraction is another signal that Peggy’s right to worry.

  He excuses himself and stands up.

  Spying on a lover’s spat isn’t high on his list of ways to spend his Sunday, so he hesitates before taking the corridor to the bathrooms. Perhaps this guy, Danny, has turned his life around and has come back to say so—he certainly doesn’t look like the kind of guy to live in the filth left in Jon’s apartment, so he takes his time rather than hurrying in case they’re making up for a third time.

  He’s uneasy though, even if he can’t pinpoint exactly why when the hurt Peggy mentioned was likely emotional rather than physical, but there’s nothing tender about the hold Danny has on Tyler when Jon rounds the corner. His forearm is pressed hard across Tyler’s throat, only dropping when Jon calls out.

  “Hey!”

  “Back off, buddy.” Danny doesn’t bother to turn, discounting Jon’s presence completely. “Private conversation happening here.”

  “In a hallway?” Jon pulls himself up to his full height and makes eye contact with Tyler. “You want me to go?” Tyler’s headshake is good enough for Jon. He steps up and grabs Danny’s shoulder. “I think you’re done talking.”

  “Who’s this, Ty? Your latest boyfriend?” Danny almost spits as he shrugs free from Jon’s hold. “This how you’re making rent without me?” Tyler blinks as droplets of saliva spatter his face. “Knew you were lying when you said you didn’t need me.” Tyler’s flinch at that is horrible, as is the sight of Danny’s knuckles, which are red and scuffed raw, fisted around the fabric of Tyler’s apron.

  Did they get that way by hitting him, and had it happened while Jon took his sweet time to get here?

  No wonder Peggy’s anxious.

  It’s too much to process at that moment. Jon’s only aware he’s pulled his own arm back, fist curled for a punch, when Tyler finds his voice and yells out.

  “No, No, No! Don’t hit him!”

  It’s his edge of desperation—clear despite the hoarseness of his voice—that stops Jon’s punch mid swing.

  The next few seconds are confusing.

  Instead of saving Tyler from a beating, Jon finds himself stepping out of the way to let Tyler maneuver his ex into a bathroom. Tyler’s face is bone white when he looks back and rasps, “You can go. I got this.” The door slams closed between them.

  Behind Jon, someone in the restaurant calls for their check and a baby grizzles.

  It’s a moment of normality that takes time to process while trying to figure out what the hell just happened. The only thing he’s certain of right now is that he can’t go back to the table and tell Peggy everything’s good. He needs to see Tyler’s okay for himself before she will believe it. He pushes the bathroom door slowly open. The glare from the overhead light is unforgiving. It showcases a scene that makes Jon wonder if he somehow hit his head or something.

  Tyler tuts as he carefully inspects his ex’s knuckles. “When’d you do this, Danny? Last night or this morning?” The hand he cradles is flecked with fresh abrasions that still ooze. “Tell me if this hurts.” He doesn’t look up as he gently tests how well Danny can flex his fingers, like he’s checking for fractures. He simply flicks a quick look Jon’s way once he’s done and asks, “Can you get the first aid kit for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t bother.” Danny is belligerent, and he moves like he’s leaving. “If I wanted a check up, I’d go to a real medical professional, not a half-baked version. I only came for—”

  Tyler interrupts him. “I know what you came for, Danny.” His exhale is resigned. “I always know what you come back for.” There’s color in Tyler’s cheeks again, but it’s a hot flare of embarrassment, and when he finally looks Jon’s way, he doesn’t quite make eye contact. “The kit,” he repeats. “It’s under the register.”

  Jon hesitates. But when Tyler insists, “I told you, Jonathan. I got this,” he finally lets the door close between them one more time. It’s hard to smile when Peggy looks so worried as he passes their booth, but he pastes one on and fends off her questions with a quietly voiced, “I’ll be right back.”

  When Jon returns to the bathroom, Danny doesn’t meet his eye either, and Tyler pulls out medical supplies from the bag in silence. He crouches to take a closer look at Danny’s abrasions, and his ex shatters the quiet by aiming a command Jon’s way.

  “You can go.”

  “No.” Jon leans against the door and watches as Danny’s eyes narrow before he aims insults at Tyler.

  “Didn’t take you long to hook up, did it? Make the most of it, Ty. This one looks too smart to hang out with a loser for half as long as I did. Does he know you wipe asses and pick up dog shit for a living?” The smirk he wears is far from a genuine smile, and he looks Jon up and down as if assessing his worth. “You’re going nowhere fast, Ty, like your family always said. This guy, on the other hand, is on the way up, like me.”

  Tyler simply lets out a quiet sigh.

  Jon’s seen him so many different ways already—teasing when Peggy needs it and helpful when friends beg last-minute favors. For fuck’s sake, he’s even laughed outright when Jon called him lazy to his face. But this blankness and those bowed shoulders?

  It’s like he believes every word his ex utters.

  Jon clears his throat and steps up. “I know exactly how he makes his money.” Only part of Tyler’s face is visible from this position, but his small nod at Jon’s lie gives him traction. “And I wouldn’t exactly say he’s going nowhere.” Jon crosses his arms and lies a couple more times. “Besides, we’re not hooking up. We’re dating and it’s serious, so you can go fuck yourself anytime you’re ready.” He sounds firm even if he feels the opposite right now. “We still on for later, Ty?”

  “Sure.”

  “You still gonna show me the sights?”

  Tyler’s answer is soft. “I’ll show you something, all right.” But when he looks up, there’s a ghost of a smile that makes Jon feel much steadier.

  Danny leaves without a word. There’s no thanks for Tyler’s medical care or apology for pushing past Jon to get out of the bathroom. The door simply closes behind him while Tyler packs away the first aid kit into its bag. The sound of its zipper closing
breaks the silence left in the wake of his ex-boyfriend’s departure.

  “You okay?”

  Tyler only nods rather than speaking.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse like he’s been yelling rather than speaking quietly. “I… Thanks, I guess.”

  “It was nothing.” It’s the fourth lie he’s told in as many minutes. Jon has so many questions, but he settles on only asking one when Tyler finally gets to his feet. “You said you knew what he wanted.”

  Tyler nods, head lowered as he passes, hand on the door handle until Jon reaches out to stop him.

  “What was it?”

  “The same thing as always. Danny’s predictable about throwing tantrums when he doesn’t get it.”

  “You?” Jon guesses. “He wants to get back with you?”

  There’s nothing happy about the surprised laughter Tyler lets out. “Fuck no,” he says, and now that they’re standing closer, it’s not hoarseness that makes his voice quiet. It’s exhaustion that’s right there in the smudges beneath his eyes and wiped-out tone. “Nope, it’s not me. It never was, although that took me longer than it should’ve to figure out. There’s only one thing he wants.”

  “Which is?” Jon asks, following him out the door.

  “The one thing I’ll never make enough of.” Tyler says as he heads back to his station. “Danny always needs more money.”

  THE MOMENT he gets home from brunch, Jon moves with focused purpose. He settles Peggy with a book of crossword puzzles, politely refusing to get drawn into conversation, and heads out to the backyard. For the next hour at least, the only sound that registers is the sharp blade of his borrowed shovel slicing through dirt that’s damp and heavy. It’s probably the first time in forever that someone’s turned over this bed—the dirt’s richly dark in color, clumping solidly as he lifts it and will take a whole lot of work before it’s ready for planting.