My cheeks turned as red as a fresh apple. “You remember that.”
“That was your deal. Talking animals. Hey, I think it’s cool.”
“No, you don’t. You’re trying not to laugh at me.”
“Oh, believe me, love, I wanted to laugh, I would,” he said. “What happened with the talking animals?”
“They’ve been silenced,” I said. “For years.”
“Until now. Wait a second. Does this mean I’m your new animal?”
I had the coffee cup to my lips, and I burst into laughter.
I watched as coffee shot from my mug and across the table at Josh.
I hurried to put the mug down and I covered my mouth. “Crap. Sorry.”
He looked down at the table and wiped it with his arm. “No worries.”
“And, no, you’re not my new animal,” I said, barely able to hold a straight face. “I stopped writing a long time ago. But my roommate… she’s a life coach.”
“A life coach?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “She helps people. People who hate their lives. Or are going through big changes. Like a move. A new job. Divorce. She helps them.”
“People pay her to do what?”
“Coach them.”
“In life.”
“Yes. Any other questions about my roommate? I could tell you about her cat addiction.”
“So, she likes-”
“Don’t say it,” I snapped at Josh.
I could hear him using the other word for cat.
He showed his hand. “I’m not saying a thing.”
“My roommate coached someone who started a blog. And my roommate decided it was time for me to write again. I had nothing to do with it. I came home from work and next thing I knew, I had this stranger telling me to go to your event last night.”
“So where does an animal talking writer like yourself work?” Josh asked.
“The Sharon,” I whispered.
“That’s that fancy place, right?”
I nodded. “I’m a waitress, Josh. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then why does it seem like you’re getting upset over it?”
“I’m not, okay?”
“There’s something else I have to wonder about you, Amelia.”
“Let’s hear it,” I said.
“Your roommate set all this up and you still showed up.”
“Didn’t we do this already?” I asked. “Oh, yeah, we did. And you walked out.”
Josh grinned the kind of grin that destroyed a different part of my innocence years ago. He leaned across the table again.
“This time is different, love… I’m not leaving until I’m full.”
Chapter 11
Lost and Locked
NOW
(Josh)
You lost the fucking letter. Or better yet, did you do something with the letter? The one thing you were supposed to do, you couldn’t do it sober. So you did it while you were hammered drunk, wandering around town, ending up at your best friend’s house because that’s where you felt comfortable.
There were texts in my phone that I had sent to Michelle.
She had been smart enough to ignore them, knowing there was a side of me that enjoyed her company and another side that would have said some emotional stuff and hurt both of us.
The panic I felt retracing my steps to the gallery had taken a back seat the second I saw Amelia. What I remembered about her she probably didn’t even realize. Hell, and the things she did to save my ass without doing a thing…
“That was pretty good,” she said as she crumpled up her napkin and threw it onto the plate.
“Whoa,” I said. “There’s food on there.”
“I’m full.”
“You’re not going to offer it to me?”
“You want to eat my leftovers?” she asked.
All I had to do was give her that sly grin to make her cheeks turn red with innuendo.
She sighed and plucked the napkin off the plate and slid it my way.
I tried hard not to do the stupid teenage thing of telling myself that by eating food her fork touched meant it was like my lips touching her lips. If I wanted a kiss from Amelia, I’d kiss her. Simple as that.
“So how did your night go, Josh?” she asked.
“Are you asking as a friend or a reporter?”
“I’m not a reporter. Or a writer. Or anything.”
“You’re a waitress. That’s something.”
“Promising, huh?”
“Everything and everyone has a purpose,” I said.
“Are you saying that as a friend or an artist?”
I jabbed the fork into the messy plate of eggs, hash browns, sausage, and cheese and took a big scoop.
“That’s a good one,” I said.
“I try,” Amelia said. “So how did you end up doing this?”
“Getting your food?” I asked.
“Josh…”
“Love…”
She swallowed hard. “You knew what I meant.”
“The artist thing?” I asked. “I fell into it. Through a friend. Had someone spot a few things I had done, and it exploded