10. Cosmo's
“Insurance concerns aside,” Rig chuckles and I feel the sound reverberate through me. “We’re here to follow your lead.”
I take a deep breath as I glance around the lobby.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” My eyes fall on Mish and she smiles sheepishly. “You said back at the house that you’re working at the library tomorrow, right?”
She nods quickly. “From nine until four.”
“Maybe I could stop by and you could help me do more research on this place, so I can actually feel like I have my feet underneath me again.”
“That’s a great idea!” Mish is on board immediately and I’m eternally grateful for it. “I am more than happy to help!”
“For now, I want to get this place closed up as best we can, eat something, and then? I’m not going to lie — I could really use a fucking drink. Or twelve.”
Rig beams down at me and my insides start to flutter. He should really do that more often. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to see if I can find some boards, nails, and a hammer to take care of this door — then we’ll eat.”
He heads toward the doorway behind the front desk and turns right as he reaches it.
“If we go to Cosmo’s,” he announces with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m buying.”
“Fine — but the first round of drinks is on me.”
Rig looks pleased by my response before he disappears into the depths of the inn.
Mish looks like she’s about to burst and I raise an eyebrow at her to encourage her to speak.
“You fell right into his trap,” she gasps like the words have been strangling her.
“What are you talking about?”
I’m really hoping I didn’t read him wrong — he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who plays games.
“He works at the bar — Valentine’s. You’ll love it by the way.”
I feel my cheeks flush as her explanation registers.
“I’ll just buy dinner then.”
Mish makes a face.
“What? He works there, too?”
“No, no, no. Not since he turned twenty-one and started working at Valentine’s. But he is the favorite grandson of Cosmo, himself.”
“Shit. What am I supposed to do?”
Mish laughs. “Prepare to be wined and dined by one of Greysville’s most eligible bachelors — with me as the third wheel, of course… Unless you want me to…”
“No! Please. I’m not sure we should be alone together just yet… Considering what you mentioned earlier.”
A sly smile curls across her face as she checks behind her. “Noted. Don’t want to rush into anything — I can appreciate that. Small town romances can be… complicated.”
“Especially if you keep giving townies nicknames on your blog,” Rig teases as he breezes past us with exactly the items he set out to find.
“In my defense, it’s only because I met him first…” My cheeks turn red as my statement registers with him.
“Is that right? And what would my nickname have been?” His playful half-smile is almost as devastating as his full grin.
“HOT RIG!” Mish squeals with delight and dissolves into a fit of giggles. “It’s gotta be Hot Rig or I’ll die.”
“You are never going to get that answer out of me,” I confess as Rig slides the massive armoire back to its original position like it’s made of cardboard and I do my best not to gawk; but when he throws a mischievous grin over his shoulder at me, I know I’m toast.
“I’ll take that bet.” He pauses to pick his supplies back up and I pivot toward Mish so I don’t blatantly stare at his ass. “Are we ready to get out of here and grab some food?”
“That sounds incredible.”
“Should I grab anything from here before I go?” Mish asks, shuffling papers noisily on the desk.
“Unless you see something that stands out to you — I think the last thing the cottage needs is more random paperwork.”
“You may have a point there,” she admits, folding something and tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans before joining us on the entry step.
Mish examines the exterior while I appreciate Rig’s hard work boarding the door up. When he’s done, we all move silently back to the cottage, each of us remaining vigilant, keeping our ears open for any strange sounds in the woods.
Thirty minutes later, I’m trying to focus on keeping my heart from skyrocketing as I sit sandwiched between Mish and Rig on the bench seat in Rig’s old pickup. Mish is rattling on about the town as we drive and I really should be listening, but the only thing I can pay attention to is my erratic pulse and the tingle that seems to be arcing from Rig’s bicep every time it gets closer to me.
His arm grazes against mine as he turns the wheel to pull into the parking lot of Cosmo’s. He hasn’t made a sound the entire drive and I can’t help wondering what has him so deep in thought. He cuts the engine and silently exits the vehicle before offering me his hand without a word.
I glance back at Mish, but she’s already halfway across the parking lot, and I’m starting to wonder where they both learned to move so quietly. I turn my attention back toward Rig and find him watching me with a look on his face that I can’t quite name.
“What? Do I have cobwebs in my hair?”
His face breaks into a grin as I bat at my hair and I swear every organ in my body does an entirely independent 360-degree spin in conflicting directions.
“No,” he catches my hand in his and gestures for me to get out of the truck. Our eyes meet as I slide down and there’s a level of panic in them that makes me wonder if he feels the electricity between us, too.
“I’m hoping you won’t judge me too harshly by my grandparents.”
“Why would I do something silly like that?” My breath catches in my throat as I stare up at him. I’m somehow still standing in the doorway of his truck, entirely too close to him to be considered just friendly.
“I’m sure they’re lovely people,” I manage to somehow sound a hell of a lot more calm and collected than I feel being this close to him. "Besides, if I’m going to judge you based on your connection to someone, that person will undoubtedly be Grae. Like, there’s no one else even in the running — unless you hang out with even dodgier assholes than my brother…?”
“Never intentionally,” He chuckles, my hand is still in his, and I’m trying to ignore it, but then he starts stroking the back of it with his thumb. “I do work at a bar though, and I’m the night manager of the motel — so, some of it comes with the territory.”
“Noted.”
He squeezes my hand lightly before releasing it and gesturing for me to head inside. I slide past him and toward the entrance, feeling his gaze follow me as he closes the truck door before catching up to me with a few easy strides.
“So, what’s good here?” I inquire quasi-innocently as we reach the entrance and Rig opens the door dutifully for me.
An offended snarl escapes him as he follows me inside the brightly lit diner. “Pretty much everything — just don’t order the green bowl special.”
I quirk an eyebrow at Rig as he guides us toward a round booth in the corner where Mish is already seated with three enormous laminated menus.
“Are you pranking me? Trying to use reverse psychology to get me to order it? Like some kind of two dollar endless spaghetti basket?”
“Endless… spaghetti… what? No. I would never joke about the green bowl special.”
“Oh. No.” Mish confirms as we slide into the booth. “Please don’t order that. Especially if we’re planning on drinking.”
Mish gags dramatically while Rig shudders violently beside me.
“Is it fucked up that you two are kind of making me want to try it?”
“Yes!” They groan in horrified unison.
“Fine,” I grumble sullenly and pick up a giant menu to hide behind. “Killjoys,” I mutter to myself as I begin to browse and a bark of laughter from Rig’s direction makes me noticeably jump.
I look up to find him grinning at me from behind the privacy of our menus and I am still not accustomed to the transformative effect it has on him. Or on me, for that matter. My palms are starting to sweat and I can feel my pulse throbbing in my neck.
“Sorry,” I admit sheepishly, wishing I could break his gaze, but I can’t. His eyes are so green — like sea glass.
“My favorites are any of the burgers, the fried chicken is incredible — there’s also a salad and a sandwich version, also amazing. The club is great… or you could order breakfast…”
I place my hand on Rig’s thigh beneath the table without thinking and he immediately falls silent before letting out a shaky breath.
“Will you please order me a burger?” I request in a small voice and his eyes widen the tiniest bit before he nods quickly, with a proud look on his face.
“Do you like bacon?”
I nod yes.
“Spicy things?”
“Maybe not this time — alcohol gives me bad enough heartburn all on its own.”
“Good point,” He considers for a moment. “Are you getting a soda or a milkshake?”
I frown playfully at him. “Sir, you are a bartender — what do you think?”
His cheeks brighten and I feel like I might faint. He’s so attractive it’s criminal. What was Grae thinking?
“Soda, right. Sorry, I’m just a little…” He glances down at where I’ve just now realized my hand is still on his thigh and I snatch it away like I just touched a hot burner on the stove. “Distracted.”
“I… I’m so… I didn’t…”
“I wasn’t complaining,” he murmurs in a voice just loud enough for me to hear and it takes everything in me not to melt into a puddle on the vinyl seat beside him.
“Sethrak!” A sugary-sweet elderly voice makes Rig drop his menu to the table and I follow suit. “Are you going to introduce me to your gorgeous new friend?”
Rig jumps to his feed and envelops the tiny woman in a warm embrace.
“Sethrak?” I mouth to Mish and she shrugs, looking just as confused as I’m sure I do.
“Mimmaw, this is AC — Grae’s baby sister.” He turns to me, “AC, this is my grandmother, Magdi.”
“Well. that makes sense — you’re the spitting image of your mother.” Magdi slides into the booth beside me and I scoot over so that she can make room for Rig. She does and quickly wraps me in a hug before I even know what’s happening. “How is she?”
I shrug, “Living the divorcee life on a beach somewhere, probably.”
“She divorced Gus?”
I snort, “Not if you hear him tell it.”
“When did that happen?” Rig asks, sounding slightly irked.
“Grae never told you, did he? He’s such a…” I pause, smiling sheepishly at the elderly woman beside me. “It was… about ten years ago, I think?”
Rig pinches the bridge of his nose with an irritated sigh.
“You want your usual, Mish?” Magdi changes the subject like a pro.
“Yes, please!” Mish squeals. “It’s lovely to see you, Magdi. Your earrings are stunning — as usual.”
“Oh, thank you!” Magdi gushes, clearly having been prompted on a favorite subject. “I got them at Betty Clybourn’s mother’s estate sale… Mary. Mary Clybourn.”
“Ooh, I’m sorry I missed that one — I heard it lasted a whole week!”
“Betty might still have some spoils tucked away — if you’re looking for something particular. I can always put in a good word for you.”
“Let’s chat more later,” Mish’s eyes are glittering with excitement. “Or I might keep you here all afternoon.”
“You’ve got it.” Magdi turns her attention to me. “Have you decided on something, Sweetheart?”
Rig clears his throat quietly and Magdi looks at him with a curious eye and bemused smile, waiting for him to continue.
“Two raspberry lemon fizzes, and two Burger 51 baskets with extra Cosmo sauce on the side.”
“Shoestring fries?” Magdi confirms as she makes notes on her order pad in a unique and stunning shorthand.
“Of course.” Rig grumbles.
“Your poppo has some deep fried. mushrooms today… with that special sauce?”
“Ooh,” Rig cracks, “Can we get an extra large side of those?”
“You’ve got it. Now, let me out so I can put your order in.”
Rig obeys, stooping to give his grandmother another hug and kiss before she buzzes off toward the kitchen.
Rig slides back in the booth beside me with a sheepish smile. “Kinda hard to maintain your tough guy image when your grandma is around.”
“You did just fine,” I beam at him and his cheeks redden. It does funny things to my insides when he blushes and I’m not used to it. “She’s wonderful, for the record.”
“Mags is the best,” Mish echoes, sitting back in her seat and starting to people watch. “Is your mom really single?”
I frown in confusion. “She was the last time I talked to her which was, admittedly, like six months ago.”
“I can’t imagine not talking to my mom for that long.” Mish balks before her eyes flash guiltily to Rig and she quickly adds, “Voluntarily.”
I snort. “Tell me you haven’t met my mother without telling me you haven’t met my mother… What does my mom being single have to do with anything, anyway?”
“How much do you know about your mom?”
“About as much as I know about thermonuclear physics.”
They stare at me expectantly.
“Which is nothing. I know it’s a thing that exists on the same planet as me. I don’t think we’ve even had a deep conversation. Like. Ever.”
“She was at the center of one of the town’s most infamous love triangles before she ultimately picked your dad.” Mish explains matter-of-factly.
A cackle escapes me. “You’re kidding me! Who was the other guy?”
I lean forward, propping my chin up with my palm and my elbow on the table.
“Mr. Humphries — I mean, Joe.”
“Mr. Humphries… Mr… Wait.” My eyes go wide. “Our elementary school principal? What the fuck?!”
“He’s the sweetest man in the whole world. He and your mom dated all through high school and even after — then details get a little murky, depending on who you ask, but your dad swooped in and married her and poor Joe has never been the same.”
“Typical Gus,” I lament as I roll my eyes. “Taking the tornado approach and giving no fucks about the collateral damage left behind.”
“Hope you’re not into Daddy’s Girls,” Mish snickers at Rig and I feel my ears grow hot.
He clears his throat as Magdi approaches with a tray of drinks and a basket of something on it.
“One raspberry lemon soda, two raspberry lemon fizzes with an extra pump of lemon, and a basket of Cosmo’s special deep fried mushrooms.”
“Tell Poppo we need to work on the name if he’s going to put it on the menu.” Rig groans.
“I’ve already talked him out of calling them Magdi’s Magic Mushrooms. What more do you want from me, Sethrak?” she commiserates with a giggle before leaving to seat a couple with three kids that just walked in.
“So, what’s the difference between a raspberry lemon soda and a raspberry lemon fizz?” I inquire skeptically as I unwrap my straw and place it in my drink.
“The soda is pre-mixed,” Rig explains, taking a sip from his glass and I notice Magdi didn’t leave a straw for him. “The fizz is more like an Italian soda.”
I take a sip while also incredibly aware of Rig watching for my reaction. To my relief, it’s delicious and I get to reward him with my genuine opinion.
“I could drink this every day for the rest of my life.” I sigh happily and take a longer drink.
I peer curiously at the basket of food and pluck a golden fried mushroom from it for inspection before gingerly taking a bite.
“Oh. My. God.” I moan audibly. “They’re stuffed mushrooms. I could cry they’re so good.”
Rig beams proudly, dunking one in a ramekin of sauce before popping it into his mouth whole and gesturing for Mish to help herself, which she does.
Conversation flows naturally as we devour our food. I learn that Mish has not one brother, but three — plus an older sister as well — and she just got back from a year abroad a few months ago. Rig, on the other hand, is an only child and splits his time between bartending at Valentine’s and managing the motel his dad owns.
Rig picks up the tab for the whole table and an hour later we make our way to Valentine’s.
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