Bittersweet by Sareeta Domingo Page A

Hal would consider eating minced beef at a quarter past midnight. I stir a few more herbs into the giant pot on the stove. I have to admit, my homage to my dad has turned out pretty darn tasty. “No dipping,” I say sternly. “We need all the food we can get.”
    “Well, I’m pretty certain there’ll be some left over,” Hal grumbles.
    “Right?” Max says. “I mean, lettuce leaves, sure, but I can’t imagine the B-word lets any meat pass those pretty little lips of hers,” she says nodding to the sloppy joe pot.
    “Uh, that’s not what I’ve heard,” Hal says, and we all crack up.
    “Damn it, Hal,” I chuckle when I recover. It feels nice to be bitchy about her, I’m not ashamed to admit.
    Maxine stretches and then reaches over and pulls plastic wrap over the last tray of sandwiches. “OK, that’s these all done,” she says, stifling a yawn.
    We start to clear the stuff away ready for Bobby and the guys to get going on breakfast tomorrow morning—or later this morning—and I high-five my friends before squeezing them both into a group hug.
    “You guys are the best,” I say, then clear my throat. “Thanks for not really mentioning… You know.”
    Maxine glances at Hal, then back at me. I busy myself locking up, but I can feel a question coming.
    “Well, honey, aren’t you a little worried about tomorrow?” she asks. “I mean, he’s probably going to be there, right? And Bethany—”
    “I can handle it. It’s cool.” I purse my lips as we stride across the little parking lot in the warm night.
    “Well, I’ll have one of the gals watch The Salon,” Max says. “I’m going to come with you, help out, you know, in case—”
    “Hah!” I interject.
    Maxine looks at me, wide-eyed. “What?”
    “You want to come ogle Johnny Lincoln, that’s what!”
    She stifles a smile. “A welcome side effect of having my girl’s back.”
    I shake my head. “What if I make you wear a hairnet?”
    She makes a face. “You don’t think I could rock a hairnet?”
    The annoying thing is, she probably could.
    “Fine,” I say. “You can come. But you have to promise me not to do anything crazy.”
    Max crosses her heart, but the smirk on her face tells me she’s not making any guarantees.
    “All I’m saying is, if that Greg guy gets out of line…?” She slices her fake talons through the air like she’s Wolverine, and I chuckle half-heartedly.
    “The guy really ought to be taught a lesson, you know,” Hal says, nodding as he shoves his fists into his jeans pockets. He’s started walking us home without our even having to ask, even though it’s out of his way. I smile to myself. I know they just want to protect me, but it’s time I took care of myself.
    The sooner I see Greg, the sooner I can get over him.
    At least, I hope so.

Chapter Thirteen
    I glance at my watch anxiously but I know it’s fine—we’ll probably be early, even. I try to keep my movements slow as Bobby helps me load up the van. It’s crazy hot this morning, and last thing I want is to turn up sweaty again for what will probably be a super-awkward confrontation with Greg. That is, if I even get to see him. I mean, if I can avoid him, then even better.
    Bobby catches me checking my reflection in the wing mirror of the van again and chuckles. “You look great, Cath.”
    I smile at him—he of course has no idea that my new-found vanity is more to do with making sure my look says “sexy young minx you should have called” as much as “reliable, professional caterer.” I agonized for an embarrassingly long time to come up with sandals, dark-blue jeans, and a sleeveless button-down blouse, and made Max judge just how many buttons I could get away with leaving undone and still be decent.
    Bob’s on break and shouldn’t have to be loading up with me, but I don’t know where the heck Maxine is. Despite her claim she’d come help out, she was still in the bathroom primping herself when I left. I sigh, carefully sliding