15. Chapter Fifteen

The only redeeming thing about Wednesday mornings is that I usually come away with pretty decent tips since we host two separate groups every Wednesday.

The first is the five-member city council, who meet every week way too fucking early so the meeting doesn't interfere with their day jobs. At six thirty, they arrive, take their usual spot at a large table near the front of the diner, and start their meeting. They don't even have to put in an order; it's the same every week. And always lots of coffee all around. Randy likes his iced, even on days like today when it's fucking negative fifty degrees outside.

Then, at exactly eight fifteen, the board of directors of White Hills Community Hospital shows up. There are seven of them—and that's both a blessing and a curse. We never know how much they're going to order or who's going to order what, so Mel and I both have to be on our toes. And if I fuck up anything—anything at all—I can pretty much kiss my tips goodbye. Well, not entirely, but given that this is one of the biggest hauls of any normal weekday, anything less than a generous twenty percent is gonna hurt. Especially today, when I really need the money.

Mel's all over the place—hot and cold—and I'm not sure how to deal with it today, when half my brain is still off somewhere else. And by the time the city council members leave and the hospital board shows up, I think I've heard every single fucking curse word she knows at least a dozen times already.

The group is loud and boisterous today, and fuck if I don't manage to delight the hell out of every single one of them. I really, really need those tips—my truck battery isn't gonna replace itself.

I help Mel as much as I can—yeah, I'm still not a cook, but I can plate stuff when I need to—and we manage to get their orders out fast while keeping everyone's coffees topped off. Everything seems to be going really well until about nine thirty or so.

That's when the door opens behind me, and I feel Josh walk in.

The feeling is just this immediate change, like a burst of light and warmth enters the room and washes over me. And god, it's just so—

Ah, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Distracted fucking me spilled the fucking coffee all over the fucking table. God dammit.

I jump back a step, tipping the coffee pot upright again, and I try not to curse out loud. "Ah, I-I'm so sorry, Dr. Richards. Here, let me grab some extra napkins, and just—"

It didn't spill that much, really, but it's enough to disrupt the meeting while I clean up the mess. And when I'm finished a moment later, Dr. Richards nods what seems like a thanks, and the meeting starts back up again. It's right about then that his eyes shift past me and then turn dark and angry and narrow and—oh, fuck again.

Something's fucking wrong.

I glance back over my shoulder and see Josh sitting on one of the stools at the counter, staring at his phone with his shoulders slumped. My heart immediately leaps in my chest, and I feel myself drawn in his direction, that same magnetism shit from the other day. He must know I'm looking, because he lifts his eyes from the phone and for just a split second, there's this flicker of whatever the fuck it is—magic, fireworks, I don't even know—as he grins at me.

God, he's just fucking gorgeous, and of course, I'm grinning back.

But the moment is over much too quickly. He glances past me, and his face falls—like dramatically. His eyes go wide, and his smile is just gone, and at the same time, there's this massive wave of anger flooding off Dr. Richards as the older man starts to stand up from his seat at the end of the large booth.

"Excuse me for a minute, Helen," he says, addressing one of the other board members who's speaking to the rest of the group. She nods and continues talking as he pushes past me—actually shoving me out of his way a bit—and starts across the diner toward Josh.

Shit, shit, shit. Something about this feels wrong. Fucking scary, actually. Even though I've always known Dr. Richards to be a nice guy.

I smile at the group and then spin around and follow him. Josh is standing up and grabbing his coat, and he looks fucking terrified as he shoves his phone into his pocket.

I snake around Dr. Richards to put myself between them because that feels like the thing I should do.

"Dr. Richards, sir—"

"Move, Coop. I need to talk to Josh. Now," he says, his low whisper not hiding whatever this rage is that's still coming off him in waves.

I'm directly between them now, and I can feel Josh only a couple of feet behind me. He seems to stumble over some words that don't quite make sense to me, something with an "I'm sorry" and "I didn't mean to hurt her." But whatever's going on, Dr. Richards isn't having it because he actually tries to fucking push past me again to get to Josh.

And I'm not fucking letting that happen.

"Sir, please back off."

Fucking back off, you jackass.That's what I really want to say. But, you know, decorum and all that shit.

"Out of my way, Coop, I—"

"Dr. Richards, with all due respect, sir, it's not a good idea to cause a scene in front of your colleagues." Damn, look at me sounding all grown-up and shit. Fuck if he tries to push past me again though. What the fuck is going on?

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath, and when he looks at me again, most of his anger is gone, or at least cooled down to a hot simmer. He scowls a bit but then nods.

"You're right. Dammit," he curses, but it's quiet.

A quick glance past him to the table where the rest of the hospital board sits tells me they're not really paying much attention. Helen's still talking, and no one's looking over at us. So I guess that's good?

Dr. Richards shakes his head and shifts so he can look around me to Josh. Some of the anger returns to his eyes, and I prepare myself in case I need to step back in. But he just blows out a frustrated breath and then scowls again.

"You know, Josh," he says, his voice still low but with a clear threat in his words, "I've never seen my daughter cry more than she did this morning. And that's on you. You're not the man I thought you were. Don't you fucking come near her again, you hear me?"

Holy fuck. What the fuck happened?

He turns and heads back to the booth on the other side of the diner, his hands balling up into fists briefly before he seems to shift gears. I hear his normal, jovial voice as he apologizes for the disruption and asks Helen to repeat whatever it was she just said.

Holy fuck.

Before I even get the chance to turn around, I can feel that Josh is about to lose his shit. It's this energy that I've felt before—a mix of fear and guilt—and it's heavy and close to panic.

"Hey," I say quietly as I turn around. "You okay, man?" And what the fuck was that all about? Yeah, that's a question for later, I guess.

He just shakes his head as he shrugs his coat on. "S-sorry, Coop. I'm sorry, I-I-I didn't know he'd be here, and I just—sorry. I'll just leave. Shit. Where's my...?"

He's rifling through his pockets now, but his hands are shaking, and he's pale and looks small and fucking terrified.

"What are you looking for? Your keys?"

He nods, his mouth set in a tight frown now. "Y-yeah. Y-yeah, my keys. I'm sorry, I'm trying to leave. I—where the hell are they?"

"Hey, it's alright. We'll find them, okay?"

This time he doesn't respond, but he looks up over my shoulder toward where Dr. Richards is probably sitting now with the rest of the board of directors, and his face pales again as he seems to recoil a step. I happen to glance down at the same moment and see the glint of a key fob on the floor under the stool where he'd been sitting.

"Ah-ha, there we are," I say, trying to inject some cheerfulness into my voice.

"Huh?"

I stoop down to pick up the keys and then grin at him as I straighten again. "See, found 'em!"

There's relief in his eyes, and he forces a bit of a smile. "Th-thanks. Thanks, man. I-I'll just get going," he says, reaching for the keys. "Sorry—sorry for, uh... I just hadn't eaten yet, and I thought I'd... Yeah, sorry."

God, he's still shaking, and I shouldn't let him drive like this. But what the fuck am I supposed to do? Shit.

My hand closes around the keys just before he can take them from me. "Sit and let me get you something to eat. Just stay a few minutes and calm down, okay? He's not—"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Angry dad coming at him. Of course he'd be fucking terrified. Shit, I'm slow on the uptake today.

I shake my head, and he's looking at me with this plea in his eyes to just let him get the fuck out of here. But instead, I stuff his keys in my pocket and then reach up and gently grasp his arm—and holy fucking god, I'm ignoring all my own feelings right now, because dammit, there's something going on in my chest the second I touch him. But not now. Not now. Not now.

Fuck.

"You really shouldn't drive right now," I say quietly, and I'm incredibly relieved—and also much too distracted still—when he doesn't protest. He follows as I start to lead him toward the kitchen. God, I can feel his muscles, even through his jacket and—shit. Not now. Not fucking now. I clear my throat roughly. "We've got an empty office in the back. You can hang out there for a bit and have something to eat. They'll be leaving maybe in about fifteen minutes or so. Alright, man?"

We're in the kitchen now, and Mel's making a pie or something. She gives me a look but doesn't say anything. And I'm grateful for it.

Josh is silent too, although he keeps following me, and a moment later, I open up the door to the extra office, which was once upon a time occupied by Mel's business partner, from what I understand. That was before my time here. Now, it's mostly storage. But there's a desk and a chair, and it's not too dusty.

I switch the light on and stop, and Josh stops with me. I'm reluctant to let him go—I won't admit just how much—but I convince myself to drop my hand from his arm as I motion to the desk.

"Here we go. It'll be quiet in here. And I'll grab you something to eat, yeah?"

"Coop, I-I... Um, yeah, sure, thanks. Sorry, I—"

"Hey, he's the one who lost his shit. You were just sitting there. It's alright. And you're safe here, okay?"

My hand is already on its way up to set on his shoulder, strictly for reassurance, of course. But I stop myself as he flinches away, shaking his head. He seems about to say something, but whatever it is, it's interrupted by Mel, who calls me from out in the kitchen.

"Coop! We got another customer. Table nine," she says. Her voice is gruff but... also not, and that's curious enough in itself. Later though. I'll talk to her later.

Josh steps toward the desk and then looks at me. He's still pale, and if I had to guess, I'd bet his hands are still shaking. But he manages a small smile.

"Thanks, man. I'll just..." He motions over to the desk, and I nod.

"I'll be back in just a few. Get you a coffee and... an omelet? With the hash browns in it?"

Another smile flickers on his lips, and he nods. "Yeah, um, that'd be great. Thanks, Coop."

"Anytime." I tip my head and then take off back out into the dining room.