Second Hand Waitress

She crossed her arms, which made Tesah glance at her chest, and she let out a deep sigh, giving in.

“Fine. Consider your conscience clear, and let’s end this here.”

“You’ll accept the money?” His eyes showed satisfaction when she nodded. “Good. Now, what on earth are you wearing?”

“What?” Kira looked down at herself and realized that with her hoodie unzipped, he could see the top of her apron. “Oh. It’s an apron.”

“Apron? For cooking?”

“Baking.”

“That makes sense,” he muttered under his breath, and she tilted her head, curious.

“Makes sense how?”

“Nothing. Forget it. What kind of baking?”

She hesitated, debating whether to continue the conversation.

“Cakes, pastries… mostly desserts.”

“Really?” He sounded so surprised that she felt a little offended.

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know… with your personality, I thought you’d be into something more trendy or experimental. Baking is…”

“Traditional?” she cut in, sounding defensive.

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Ordinary?”

“For heaven’s sake, Kira!” It was the first time he had said her name so naturally, and she blinked in surprise. He didn’t seem to notice and continued glaring at her. “I told you not to do that. I meant baking is structured—it has specific rules and measurements. It just doesn’t match your personality.”

“You don’t know me, Mr. Clover,” she reminded him again.

“I know enough,” he countered, his tone unexpectedly gentle.

“Your time is up.”

“Yes, it is.” He walked toward the door, and she watched him from the middle of the room. When he reached the door, he turned to face her.

“I was wondering about week fourteen,” he admitted, his voice so low she barely heard it. His eyes were downcast, as if he was embarrassed.

“Week fourteen?” she repeated, stalling, unsure if she should answer.

“What happens after the hands and eyelids form?” He sounded like a curious child eager to hear the end of a story, and she couldn’t ignore that vulnerability.

“This week, the baby starts urinating,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s a little weird to imagine that happening inside me. Oh, and the baby has fingerprints now. And this week, they start making little facial expressions.”

She smiled at the thought.

“Squinting, frowning,” she chuckled. “Probably practicing the perfect frown, considering who their father is.” The words made her pause. Her baby wouldn’t know their father. She lowered her eyes, trying to push away the sadness. She had grown up without a father and had always wanted something different for her child.

“Anyway, it’s all an estimate. We could be off by a week. I’ll know for sure on Wednesday when I go for an ultrasound. They’ll be able to give me a more accurate timeline of when the baby was conceived and the due date.”

“Will they be able to tell you the gender?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. Some sources say you can find out as early as twelve weeks, but most say sixteen weeks is more reliable. Either way, I don’t think I want to know.”

“I suppose Lexington will be going with you?”

“Lex and Becky are working,” she replied without thinking. His eyes narrowed.

“Jake, then?”

“Sure. Jake will come,” she said nonchalantly, noticing how suspicious he looked. “Anyway… I have things to do. So I’ll say goodbye now. I’m sure Mike Lawson has my lawyer’s number.”

She held out her hand, and he took it, shaking it firmly. But after one quick up-and-down motion, he didn’t let go.

“Good luck with your hotel in Medina. I’m sure it’ll turn out great.” She didn’t know what else to say and wished he would release her hand, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to do so.

“Does Lexington know who the baby’s father is?” he suddenly asked.

“No. And I’d rather he didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he values your friendship. And even though I don’t understand what he sees in you, he doesn’t have many friends. I wouldn’t want to take one away from him.”

“You used to find me interesting,” he reminded her in a low voice.

“What are you doing, Tesah?” she asked, her voice small and unsure. He looked just as confused as she felt. She had never seen him look this vulnerable before.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “I really don’t know.”

He stepped closer and pulled her toward him until her chest was pressed against his. He finally let go of her hand, only to cup her face gently, as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen.

“Maybe just a goodbye,” he whispered. “Can I say goodbye?”

“No.” The word carried no weight. It was barely a whisper. But before it could truly settle between them, he caught it on her lips in a soft kiss. It was gentle and surprisingly full of

emotion.

Kira was stunned.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t allow it.

But she didn’t pull away.