Page 36 of Cinder
“That’s… comforting?”
Mason drags a fry through aioli and points it toward the bar. “Chip’s about thirty seconds from a meltdown.”
“He’ll be fine.” Frankie glances at me again, curious. “You from around here?”
“Toronto.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Me too.”
Mason tightens his arm around Frankie’s shoulder to tug her in, and Chip’s voice cuts across the room. “Penny!”
I turn instinctively, then glance back at Frankie and Mason. “Duty calls.”
“Try not to set anything on fire,” Mason calls.
“That’s a you problem,” I sing-song back automatically, already stepping away and hearing Frankie laugh.
I pivot back toward the bar, and the noise swells around me again. Glasses clink, someone laughs too loud from the pool tables, and the kitchen bell dings twice in quick succession.
This place moves faster than I do, that’s undeniable. I double-check buttons before I press them, and I repeat orders back carefully. I remember Max prefers no ice in his lemonade, and that the woman at table six wants extra napkins because her toddler is in a phase.
But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m in the way. I don’t feel like every move I make needs approval or calculation.
“Penny, where’s the docket for seven?” Chip asks, already scanning the counter like it might magically reveal itself.
“In the holder,” I say, concentrating on pulling a pint before making my way to the register.
“Which holder?”
“The only holder,” Gwen replies without looking up, sliding past him and grabbing a bottle.
I finalize a transaction for an older couple, then hand over their receipt just as the front doors swing open, bringing a rush of cool evening air with them.
“Hi, Penny!”
The voice cuts through the music like it’s on its own frequency, and I look up. A small blur of sparkly pink is already halfway across the room, light-up sneakers flashing against the dark floorboards.
I don’t stop to think, stepping out from behind the counter and crouching just as Elle reaches me, catching her before she can collide with my knees.
“Hi,” I laugh, steadying her shoulders. “You’re going to cause a workplace incident.”
“We came for dessert,” she announces.
“That sounds like official business.”
“It is.”
Behind her, Evan steps inside and shuts the doors with his foot, a leash looped loosely in one hand. He doesn’t move immediately, but his eyes travel around the space. First to the pool tables, then the booths and the exits. Then to me.
There’s a flicker of recognition, followed by assessment, and he gives me a curt nod as he walks toward where I’m still crouched with Elle. I wonder if this man ever fully relaxes, even off duty.
“Evening.”
“Hi again, again.” I smile softly, looking from him to the leash in his hand. “Did you lose your furry friend?”
“Gus is out back,” Evan says. “Gwen’s got a fenced courtyard, and she lets him hang there when we come in.”
“And when he behaves,” Gwen adds from the bar.
