Following Me by Linde, K.A. (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📗

stared after his retreatingback.  What the fuck is he thinking?  But he wasn’t waiting for her, andshe had to jog to keep up with him.  She didn’t even know why she was followinghim.  She knew it wasn’t a good idea to be around him.  That had becomeblatantly obvious after he had kissed her.

She was too messed up.  She hadtoo many of her own issues to deal with, and she couldn’t drag anyone else intoit.

Brennan walked right into Jenn’s,the place she hadn’t walked into for three weeks straight.  She followed on hisheels to the back of the mostly deserted restaurant.  Some regular customercalled out a snide remark to him as he passed, and Brennan flipped the guyoff.  The guy laughed through his smoker’s cough.

When they reached the door to thekitchen, Brennan said, “Wait here.”

Devon stood around, twiddling herthumbs.  She wished she knew why he had brought her here.  She didn’t know whathad compelled her to follow him, except that it had all been so sudden.  Shehadn’t expected to see him any more than he was expecting to see her.

Loud strong language from theback broke her out of her thoughts.  All she could really grasp from the conversationwas that he was late for work.  That must have been why he had been running. She didn’t suspect he was the kind of person who was usually late, but shedidn’t really know him all that well.  Maybe it was a regular thing for him toshow up late.  Maybe that was why his hair had always been rumpled.

A couple minutes later, Brennanwalked back out of the kitchen with a woman in tow.  Devon had never seen herbefore when she had spent time in Jenn’s, but that didn’t surprise her.  Thewoman wasn’t wearing the typical uniform.  Instead, she was clad in aform-fitting dress.  She looked well-kept, and Devon wondered what she wasdoing back in the kitchen.

“Devon,” Brennan said, facingher, “this is Jenn Yarrow.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Devonsaid, sticking out her hand.

“Brennan said you are looking fora job,” she said with a thick Northern accent.  “You have any waitressingexperience?”

“Yes, ma’am.  I worked as awaitress in Nashville for a few summers,” Devon said, her hopes flaring.

“First off, don’t call me ma’am. That’s my mom or my mother-in-law, God strike her down,” Jenn said, tilting herhead to the sky.  “Second, we work with test-runs only.  You make it throughtoday, and I’ll hire you.  Otherwise, you can keep your tips and have a niceday.”

Jenn threw a towel at her, andDevon caught it, feeling shocked.

“So…is this like an interview?”

“What does it look like?” Jennrolled her eyes and looked at Brennan as if she were asking what kind of personhe had brought into the place.  “There’s a change of clothes in the back.  I’llcheck on you at closing time.”  With that, she turned and walked away.

“What just happened?”  Devonstood completely still, holding a hand towel.

“The owner just gave you a job aslong as you make it through today,” Brennan told her.  “So, make it throughtoday.”

DEVON PEELED OFF her uniform in thewomen’s restroom at the back of Jenn’s Restaurant.  As she changed back intoher street clothes, her arms and feet ached, her mind was whirring, and shefelt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion coursing throughout her entire body. The whole thing made her wonder why she hadn’t gotten a job earlier.  She wasso busy that she had forgotten everything else, like her reason for being inChicago, her best friend on drugs, and Brennan’s eyes always finding her in theroom.

Okay, she wasn’t busy enough notto notice Brennan, but it felt different now.  She couldn’t react or respondlike she normally would have because there were simply too many customers whohad kept her occupied.

Jenn had met her at the door whenthe bar closed.  Apparently, she wasn’t one for long-winded conversations.  Shetold Devon to keep the towel and the extra uniform if she didn’t have any otherclothing that would work.  That was lucky because Devon hadn’t brought anythinglike it with her.  She would have to use some of her tips to buy new clothesand more comfortable shoes.  Jenn had told her to come in every night for therest of the week.  She hadn’t bothered to ask if the closing shift was okay forDevon.  Jenn had mentioned that she would give Devon an official schedule thefollowing week, and Devon suspected she would remain on the night shift.

She rolled her shoulders backwardand forward a few times, trying to work the kinks out of them, but it was nogood.  At the very least, she would be sore for the next week.  The roll ofbills in her pocket made up for the stiffness she would surely face in themorning.

Jenn’s was in a nice area, andcustomers were always floating in and out.  The tourists that managed to findthe place tipped like crap, but the regulars tipped bucketloads.  They hadtipped way more than the people at the small pasta place she had worked inNashville.

She stuffed her work clothes in ato-go bag and walked through the kitchen door into the main dining area.  Theother waitress had already disappeared, grumbling the whole time about how shedidn’t need any help.  Devon suspected it had something to do with sharingtips.  Though, Devon wasn’t sure how the woman had managed working the busyrestaurant with just Brennan’s help in the first place.

“You ready to get out of here?”Brennan asked, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

Devon hadn’t realized that he waswaiting on her.  She owed him big time.  She wished she didn’t feel the wave ofawkwardness that ran through her at his nearness.  Then, she might be able toshow her gratitude more.

“Uh…yeah,” she said, glancingaway from those eyes.

“I’ll just lock up.”  He duckedinto the kitchen and then returned a minute later.  “Let’s go.”

Brennan flipped off the brightred open sign in the window, and then they exited through the front doors.  Hetook the time to lock those doors as well, and then they walked to the Lstation together.

Devon took in the surprisingsilence of the city.  As they passed through streets lined with