A Want So Wicked by Suzanne Young Page A

counter while I stir in the sweetener. “Do you like it here?” he asks offhandedly, examining his fingernails.
    â€œIt’s the best job I’ve ever had. It’s also the only job I’ve ever had, so it doesn’t have much to compete with. But I do like it. For the most part.”
    Abe looks up as if he’s surprised by my answer. “No, not at Santo’s. I mean—”
    â€œElise,” Santo calls from the kitchen, his voice having its usual gruff edge. I worry that I’m in trouble as I head back there. Abe follows, and I find Santo at the grill, flipping strips of chicken and green peppers. When he notices me, he wipes his hands on the white towel he has thrown over his shoulder.
    â€œGo ahead and take off,” he says with a head nod toward the front door. My stomach drops.
    â€œI’m fired?”
    Abe laughs from behind me, and Santo shakes his head. “What? No. I just don’t need you anymore tonight.” He pauses, as if he doesn’t want to say the next part. “Nice work out there.” He pours oil on the grill, drowning out the sound of my thank-you with a sizzle.
    I go to grab my purse, untying my apron as Abe snorts. “What?” I ask. I can’t help but smile, a little embarrassed about my exchange with Santo.
    â€œNothing,” Abe says. “I just think it’s funny that when your boss tells you that you can take off, your first instinct is to think you’re fired.”
    â€œMaybe I’m not all that confident in my server skills yet.”
    â€œI understand that. You’re awful at it.”
    â€œHey!” I laugh, slapping his shoulder. He doesn’t apologize, but motions toward the kitchen.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” he says. “Wait for me?”
    I agree, and lean against the wall, facing the dining room. There are only two tables, and Margie’s able to handle them both with ease. I think about Paul, about the terrible things he’s gone through, the terrible things he planned to do. I just wish I knew how I could see those things.
    â€œAll right, let’s go,” Abe says, startling me as he walks up.
    â€œGo? Where?”
    â€œYou have some time before you have to be home, right? Let me buy you dinner.”
    â€œWho’s open this late besides us?”
    He grins. “You’ll see.”
    Â 
    A Slim Jim, a Coke, and a pack of yellow cupcakes hit the spot as we sit on the bumper of Lucy’s car in the 7-Eleven parking lot. Abe is eating a nasty-looking hot dog that he plucked from the heat rollers in the glass cabinet, but I passed.
    â€œTell me about yourself, Elise,” Abe says between bites. “I must admit that I am fascinated.”
    I brush my hair behind my ear in a nervous movement. “And why is that?”
    Abe takes another bite before answering. “You’re gorgeous. Innocent. And yet”—he points his finger—“there is something very unusual about you.”
    â€œYou mean strange?”
    â€œNo,” Abe says seriously. “I mean fascinating.” I’m not sure how to respond, but I don’t have to because Abe stands, crumpling up his napkin as he finishes off his hot dog. He tosses the wrapper in the trash before wandering back over.
    â€œI’m close with my family,” I say, answering his earlier question. “My father does a lot of work for the church, so Lucy and I spent most of our childhood there. But now he lets us decide for ourselves when and if we want to go.”
    Abe eases down next to me. “He sounds like a very practical man.”
    â€œHe’s great,” I say, fully aware that talking about my dad might be lame. “And when we left Colorado last month, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever make another friend again.”
    â€œBut then I came into your life. Sounds like fate to me.”
    I turn, but find I can’t hold Abe’s dark gaze. When I look