Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Aw, thank you,” I reply, feeling a flutter of apprehension as I lock the door behind me. The click of the lock echoes in the quiet hallway, grounding me in the moment.
Why does this all feel so wrong?
Oliver’s come directly to my apartment, taking the back staircase that winds up from the parking lot behind the shop. It’s quiet now, the shop closed for the evening after I decided to close up early, giving myself some extra time to get ready. Now, we’re standing together on my little porch, the evening air cool and crisp, filled with the scent of autumn leaves.
“So, where are we going for dinner?” I ask, half-expecting him to say Moore’s since he owns the place. But instead, he surprises me.
“Atta Boy,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “They’ve got a great chicken and waffles sandwich.”
“Oh,” is all I manage to say as my heart flutters—nerves and anxiety warring within me. The unexpected choice throws me off balance, and a sudden rush of worry floods my mind.
Oh shit.
I hope Tripp isn’t working tonight.
Chapter 16
Tripp
“I know it’s busy as hell if you’re helping serve,” I say to Anya as I clear off a table.
“Gotta help out when and where we’re needed,” she says, smiling as she carries the burgers a few tables over.
She’s right. This may not be my dream or my goal in life, but I’ll always help. I’ll always be there when my family needs me. That’s the thing about being an Atwood, we go above and beyond for each other. If you need help, we all show up.
Just like when Felicity was pregnant and couldn’t get ahold of Shepherd. We all rushed over to her house to be with her and help her in any way we could. And when she got the call he was in an accident, we all rushed to the hospital to be there for Felicity and Shepherd. When I think about that night, it reminds me just how close we all are.
I sigh, wiping down the table as I think about disappointing my family. There’s an obligation to be here and I wish I was programmed differently. I wish I wanted it as badly as the rest of them do. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, which is why I still haven’t mentioned my book to any of them.
I’m just not ready.
Once the table is clean, I carry the bus tub of dishes to the kitchen and put them in the dish pit. The kitchen is loud and active with servers grabbing their orders. The sound of dishes clanking, food sizzling, and shouting from all angles. We’re in the middle of dinner rush and this is the time for work, not chit chat. I value the times when I can stand around and shoot the shit with my older siblings, but now is not that time. We’ve got a packed house.
Even me.
I bus the tables, put the dishes in the dish pit, and move on to helping servers carry out the food they need help with.
“Tripp, can you please go bring two beers to table seven? Trudi has them waiting at service bar,” Anya asks, grabbing a plate of food.
“Sure thing,” I say, rushing to help.
I grab the new beers and carry them over to the table. “Here you go,” I say, placing them down and taking the empty ones. “How is everything? Anything else you need?”
“Everything is delicious and you are all always so attentive and helpful. That’s why we’re here at least once a week,” the lady says with a genuine smile.
“I’m so glad to hear that. If you need anything, I’ll be walking around, so just give a shout.”
“Will do,” the gentleman says.
I grin as I carry the empty pint glasses toward the kitchen. Most every customer that comes in always has wonderful things to say and they are polite and happy. That’s not to say we don’t often get an occasional asshole every now and then, but the good ones outweigh the bad.
I continue to help serve food, clear tables, and charm customers with my personality. I’m not a cocky guy, but all of us Atwood’s possess a certain je ne sais quoi. It’s in our DNA.
Gabby, one of the servers, grabs my arm as she passes by. Her eyes are wide as she stares at me. “Tripp, can you please help me? Table thirty-two was just seated and I still need to get table thirty’s order in.”
I nod, grabbing her hand. “Relax, I’ve got this.”
“Thank you,” she rushes out as she races to the server station.
I chuckle as I head toward the table. Not because Gabby is overwhelmed, but because I'm not stressed out even among all this chaos. I thrive in it. I’m not sure if it’s from growing up in a house full of endless chaos, oftentimes so loud that you couldn’t get a word in. Or if it’s because my head is always full of noise from characters that demand me to tell their story. Either way, these busy nights at Atta Boy make it easier for me to work.