When We Let Go, Delancey Stewart [early reader books .txt] 📗
- Author: Delancey Stewart
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I got back to the office a few minutes later, and Chance called out as I came through the front door, “Did you get out of there okay, little bro? Chastity intact?”
“Shut up.” I threw my bag into the corner of my office and sat down at my desk. I guessed that was one of the differences between Chance and me. He would never have gotten into a situation like the one I was in with Mrs. Teague because he would have charmed and avoided. And I would never get out of it because I didn’t have that skill set. I was pretty much just me—what you see is what you get. And I didn’t have it in me to disappoint little old ladies.
The familiar smell of bacon grease and Pine-Sol greeted me as I flew through the diner door, Adele on guard at the podium to shake her head at me as always. I knew deep down she really liked me, but she did her best to hide it.
“Twelve minutes late,” she said.
I gave her a grin and went to the back to clock in. There was no point arguing with Adele. She and her husband Frank owned the diner, and had run it as long as I’d been there—Adele with a firm hand and Frank with a soft smile.
“Hey you.” Maddie Turner greeted me when I came back out, a pot of coffee in her hand and a smile on her face. Behind her, her fiancé Connor shot a hand up in greeting before returning to the laptop on the table in front of him.
“Hey yourself,” I said. “Busy?” I looked around at the almost-full restaurant.
Maddie nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice to see things picking up after such a slow winter.”
“Winter’s always slow up here,” I told her. “Even when there’s no snow.” And there hadn’t been more than a couple feet this year—nothing like the snowfalls I remembered growing up. We had pictures from my childhood of me standing on the roof of the house while Dad dug a tunnel down to the door. In those photos, the house was so buried it looked like a log or a boulder under feet of soft snow—not like a two-story house. We hustled around until lunchtime, getting only a slight break before the midday crowd began trickling in.
Maddie’s eyes had landed on someone just over my shoulder and then she whispered, “Your table.”
I turned to see Chance Palmer and his brother Sam standing at Adele’s podium, looking around the crowded restaurant. Adele sat them in Maddie’s section.
“Go ahead,” Maddie urged.
My head spun every time I saw Chance. He was gorgeous when I watched him trying to make up for my mom’s humiliation on television, but that had been a year ago. He was even better looking in real life. I’d thought so since high school, and heaven knew he’d only improved with age. Both brothers looked like they’d been working hard, their work shirts rolled up to the elbow and dusty jeans brushing the tops of steel-toed work boots.
I took a deep breath. I could do this.
I walked to their table, order pad in hand, and celebrated a minor victory when I arrived without tripping. “Hey guys.” My voice was higher than I would’ve liked. I cleared my throat and pushed my glasses up my nose. “What can I get you to drink?”
Both brothers turned to look at me, and two sets of deep blue-gray eyes made me feel like I was under a microscope.
“Hey Miranda, how’s it going?” Chance said and then turned his attention back to his menu.
“Good,” I managed, trying to force my voice to remain in one octave.
Sam’s eyes stayed on my face, and I wished he would return to his menu, too. Sam Palmer had never been my favorite person and he wasn’t my favorite Palmer brother by a long shot. “How’s school?” he asked.
I shrugged, waving the order pad in front of me. “Fine. I still have a ways to go.”
“Probably get more done if you weren’t hanging out in a diner.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you’d have more time for school.”
“Iced tea, please,” Chance said before I could even address Sam’s jab. I wished Chance would look at me again, but his eyes remained on his menu.
“Make that two,” Sam said. “Unless you’re feeling off-balance today. Then I’ll just have water.” A grin spread across Sam’s face, making his eyes dance. “Tea leaves a stain.”
Anger bubbled in my stomach and embarrassment made my skin heat. “I think I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice low.
Unfortunately, Sam had witnessed many of my clumsier moments, here in the diner and back in school. In fact, Sam had been at the root of the event that I still relived when I found myself alone in darker moments—it was one of those defining high school turning points that sets in your mind who you are destined to be in this world. I blamed Sam almost completely for the humiliation and self-loathing I’d suffered through for years as a result of that one. And just when I’d almost recovered from that—but hadn’t forgiven him by a long shot for the role he’d played, he’d been front and center for a wardrobe malfunction of epic proportions on the stage at senior prom. That last one might not have been his fault, but both events were humiliating, both were tied inextricably to Sam Palmer, and both were things I’d rather never have to think about again.
“If you’re having a stable day, then I’ll have the iced tea,” Sam said. His eyes were still on me, though they looked a little less cheerful than when I’d first walked up. At least he was sensitive enough to know when he’d been rude.
I turned and walked away, slowly and carefully, my mood darker than it had been before. Every time Sam made a sarcastic comment or pointed out one of my deficiencies, I felt small. He knew way too much about me, and I didn’t want his jerky antics to color any chances I might have of finally catching his older brother’s attention.
“How’d it go?” Maddie whispered when I was back behind the counter.
“Oh great,” I said. “They basically asked me not to spill anything on them.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Sam doesn’t mean anything by it. What did Chance say?”
“I think the menu is more interesting than I am.” I poured the iced tea and got ready to return to deliver it. Maddie was giving me an evaluative look, her eyes running the length of my body and landing back on my face. “What?” I hissed.
“I have a dress I think will look fantastic on you. Maybe help you catch Chance’s attention?”
My jean skirt suddenly made me feel immature and childish. I felt my face heat.
“I don’t mean that you don’t look great now, Miranda. That isn’t what I meant at all.” She was backpedaling.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’m not exactly a fashion plate.” Denim and flannel were pretty much my go-to uniform when I wasn’t changing things up with my maroon polyester diner polo—and Maddie actually was kind of a fashionista. She’d toned down the heels and skinny black pants once she’d realized how impractical they were in the mountains, but she still looked better than most full-time mountain folks I’d ever met.
“Come over tomorrow. You can see if you like the dress?”
I nodded. “Sure. Thanks.” A while ago, Maddie had offered to give me some advice about how to catch Chance’s attention. I guessed she might know what she was doing, since she had managed to snag Connor Charles last fall—the guy most people couldn’t even get to say hello to them. He sat pounding away at his laptop most days while she was working, pausing to smile at her sometimes. He was definitely good-looking, if you liked the norse God look, which let’s face it—most women did. He was also ridiculously wealthy and successful. His career as a novelist had taken off years ago and showed no signs of quitting.
“Hey,” I ventured. “Still up for giving me some tips, too?” I asked her. “I’m not sure there’s much to work with here.” I’d looked pretty much the same since graduating high school four years before. Kings Grove wasn’t really a fashion mecca. Some of the old timers made fun of Maddie for being on the cutting edge of fashion for this environment. I didn’t need inappropriate footwear to be at the butt of jokes, though. I just needed to try to walk across a parking lot without falling down—a nearly impossible feat. I was born with the clumsy gene front and center in my genetic makeup.
She nodded once, her curls falling around her cheeks. “I’ll share what little I know.” She grinned at me and I turned to deliver iced tea.
“Two iced teas,” I said, carefully placing the drinks in front of the Palmer brothers. I coaxed a false brightness into my voice. Thinking about Maddie offering to update my wardrobe and give me tips about how to interact with men only made me suspect I was even more completely hopeless than I’d imagined. No wonder Chance barely noticed I was alive. “What else can I get for you guys?”
Chance had put his menu down and was staring at his phone, but
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