She pocketed her tips and cleared a table, chastising herself for letting him get her so riled up. She couldn’t afford to be off her game today. She was the only waitress working the lunch shift, and they were beyond busy. She was headed for the kitchen when she saw Damon and Bones walk into the bar. Damon waved, flashing his megawatt smile right at her.

“Hey there,” she called out, hands full. “There’s a table in the back. I’ll be right over.” She’d gladly serve the two hottest, nicest doctors around.

She pushed through the kitchen doors and put the dirty dishes on the counter by the sink, where Ricardo was busy washing dishes. Ricardo was nineteen and part of the Young Knights mentorship program run by the Dark Knights. He worked as a dishwasher, but was also taking cooking lessons from Finlay, with hopes of one day becoming a chef.

Ricardo reached for a plate. “Still busy out there?”

“Crazy busy.”

“Tracey, you’re just in time.” Finlay was transferring something from a tray to a cooling rack.

“In time for you to wipe my brain clean? Because I’d really like to delete a few things from my head right about now.”

“I was going to say to taste test Ricardo’s latest creation.” Finlay turned with a little chocolate cake on a plate and an empathetic expression on her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

As much as Tracey wanted to tell anyone who would listen exactly what she thought of Diesel, she also didn’t want to. She hated the way she felt about him right now, and she still had to work with him. It wasn’t his fault she’d built things up in her head and couldn’t shake off the hurt of his ignoring her. She was seriously toying with the idea of looking for a new job. It was only August, and he wasn’t leaving until January. That was a long time to subject herself to watching him with other women night after night. Keeping the details of her disillusionment to herself, she said, “Have you ever felt like you had your feet planted firmly on the ground, and then a gust of wind suddenly sweeps you up and leaves you drifting? And all you want is to make sense of things, to land again so you can start over, but that wind keeps blowing the ground just out of reach?”

“Sounds like a Katy Perry song.” Ricardo began singing “Fireworks.”

Finlay wiggled her shoulders to the beat.

Tracey couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, Katy must have been thinking about me when she wrote it.”

“Sounds like whatever you’re going through is pretty confusing,” Finlay said.

“That’s putting it mildly.”