I heard Ronnie’s voice before I even saw him, calling my name like it was a song. I focused on the scampi in front of me, plating pastas and dropping fryer baskets with an easy rhythm I’d learned over the years. “It’s your turn,” Ronnie informed me once he stepped onto the line.
I glanced at him through the steam fogging up my glasses. “I’ll be there in a second.”
“No,” Ronnie protested. “I’ve got this, you go. Stop putting off the inevitable.”
I scowled, knowing Ronnie was referring to the fact I was going to have to give Mackenzie a gift. Hopefully it wouldn’t relight the torch she’d once carried for me. I was pretty sure she’d found someone else to fawn over though, so maybe I would be safe. She was sweet, but she was young. A hopeless romantic who still mistook friendliness for fli
