A big ole hug to Todd is in order tonight.

Once Shawn escorts the last table out the front door, he locks it then leans against it. “That’s it tonight. Great job, everyone.”

The last of the wait staff and I shuffle down the hallway to the employee locker room.

I push my shoulders back, stretching the ache that formed from hunching over coolers and faucets the whole night. I would have thought my body was conditioned to being on my feet all night, but I’d never opened as many wine bottles in any of my other jobs. My eyes peer up to find my way to my locker.

Dressed in his street clothes, Todd is sitting down on a metal folding chair, fiddling with his phone.

“What are you doing here?” I go to my locker to get out of the cardboard-stiff white shirt.

“I’m here to walk you home.” He tucks his phone away in his jacket pocket. “Or entice you to have a nightcap with me.”

I peek over my shoulder and shake my head. “A nightcap? What decade did you morph back from?” My locker clicks open, and I debate in my head about sneaking off to the restroom to change. I have a tank top on, but it doesn’t cover a lot. Looking right and left, I find most of my coworkers are ignorant of me, so I go for it.

“Figured we’d have a congratulations drink on your first day.”

I sense Todd behind me as I sneak my arms out of the shirt. God, I hope he’s concentrating on anything but me.

“A simple ’way to go’ is good enough.” I shed myself from my shirt and throw my sweatshirt over my head like a teenage girl in a locker room.

“I know you made killer tips. You at least owe me a thank-you drink.”

From the distance of his voice, I gather he’s still on the chair. I pray his eyes were fixated on something else, or that he had the decency to look away.

“Fine.” I release a huff. It’s not because I wouldn’t love to show my appreciation to Todd for finding this position for me. I’m just completely exhausted from being up early for my day job at Art on Wells.

I twist around and swing my purse over my shoulder.

“You know how many girls would kill to go out with this?” He lifts his shirt, showing me his six-pack of well-defined abs.

“Put those away. You forget, I’ve photographed you, so I’ve seen it all.”

His abs still make my pulse quicken, but I’d never tell him that.

“Bye, guys,” Victor says. He and Megan wave good-bye and exit through the door.

“Bye,” Todd and I respond in unison.

I shut my locker.

He stands up and swings his arm around my shoulders. “You can thank me another time. I know you’re probably dead tired.”

I tilt my head up to look at him, and ours eyes meet. He’s so handsome in the high-school-quarterback kind of way. I imagine he was Mr. Popularity or the King of Prom—the guy who never gave me the time of day, the guy I was invisible to in the halls. But Todd is so sweet and kind; he may be a little self-centered, but I swear, he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.

“What?” he asks, his strong hand gripping my shoulder tight.

I shake my head and smile. “Thank you for getting me the job.”

“Sure, Noodle, but I have a favor to ask.”

My feet skid to a stop right before we venture outside, and I quizzically look up at him.

CHAPTER TWO

Todd

I glance down to my feet, thinking how I can word this so I won’t sound like a complete dipshit. Of course, I got her the job at CHOPs with no strings attached, but then a brilliant plan came to me when we were in the kitchen, and I saw the way Davis looked at her.

“The boss seems to like you.”

“Davis? He’s nice.”

She continues to walk, but I sense her apprehension from the way her hands are tucked into her pockets. She’s waiting patiently for the bomb to drop.

“He is . . . well, from what I know of him, he’s a workaholic.”

I bite my lip. There are times when I feel as though I know Noodle well, and other times, I don’t. We’ve had a few conversations when she’s taken my pictures, but she keeps a lot of herself closed off. I’ve wondered if it’s because of the guy I saw running out on her the day I moved in. The image of her broken, in her doorway, has never left me. She tried to wipe the tears and act normal, but I saw through her facade. Whoever that guy is, he’s an asshole, and I hope she knows that.

“It’s paid off for him.” Her head faces forward. She bears no emotion.

“Yeah. I was thinking . . . since he’s definitely into you—”

Her head springs my way. “You think he’s into me?” she interrupts. Her eyes open wide in surprise.

Now, she’s perked up.

“Yes.”

A small smile creeps up the corners of her mouth, and she shakes her head in disbelief.

“I think he was just being a nice boss.” She focuses down and I wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. I sensed her low self-esteem a few times, but she usually smiles through it—at least in front of me.

“Trust me, Noodle. He’s interested.”

She shrugs.

“So, I was thinking that you could keep him distracted and get him to go out—at least, out of the kitchen.”

“What?” She stops, and hurt fills her eyes before confusion sets in. “You trying to whore me out or something?”

Shit. I should have led into that easier. Slower, for sure.

A deep chuckle pours out of me. “No.” I attempt to calm my humor down. “I’m not asking you to screw him. Just flirt a little. Keep him out of the kitchen. You might even like him.”

“Is this a stipulation of you getting me the job?” She crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her hip.

She’s oddly cute when she’s mad and damn—those tits.

“No. I already got you the job. I was thinking this would be more of a thank-you gesture.” My shoulders lift.

She inhales a deep breath. “How about just the ‘nightcap’?” She puts nightcap in air quotes.

“I’ll buy the nightcap. Just put yourself out there, and see if he bites.”

This might be getting worse instead of better.

“Seriously, Todd, you are demented.”

She shakes her head and steadily proceeds toward the subway.

I jog to catch up to her. “Hold up.”

I grip her arm, but she yanks it out of my grasp.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I want to find investors for my own place. He’s always there, never letting me showcase any of my dishes. I’ve tried to go through the chain, asking him to let me create a special here or there, but he’s refused me every time.” I hold her vision with mine until the corners of her lips turn. “Forget I asked.” My shoulders deflate as I realize it was a dick move. I’ve officially lost it. My desperation is definitely clouding my judgment.

“Apology accepted.”

I stop. A warm feeling spurs in my stomach from her ability to forgive me so easily.

I follow her to the top of the subway stairs.

“I saw how he was looking at you in the kitchen, and I just thought it could be good for both of us.”

She giggles and shoves me. “So, you thought, ’yeah, I’ll whore Lia out’.”

“Actually, I thought, ‘I’ll whore Noodle out’.”

Her hand reaches out to shove me again, but I grab ahold of it and pull her in to me. A strawberry scent floats from her hair. This is the first time I’ve hugged her, and from her limp arms, I’m thinking I’ve made another dumbass move by initiating contact.

She laughs into my sweatshirt and steps back. “You’re a rare duck, you know that?” She jogs down the subway steps.

“More like a lone duck,” I mumble behind her.

CHAPTER THREE

Amelia

My lateness is quickly becoming a cause for concern. Ms. Cruella de Vil will surely punish me with what she assumes is a menial task of walking her two four-legged children to the dog park if I’m tardy again. Ugh . . . tardy. I hate that word, especially when it comes out of her mouth. I can just hear her sweet-as-pie voice trying to disguise her annoyance.