Текст книги "When We Met"

Автор книги: Christina Lee

Соавторы: Molly McAdams,A. L. Jackson,Tiffany King
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

chapter ten

Dalton

Courtney was waiting for me when I pulled up in front of Gruby’s the next night. She opened the door of the restaurant and hurried to my car since the weather still sucked.

“Hey,” I said, placing a long, lingering, heated kiss on her lips. It had been less than twenty-four hours since we were together, but she was all I could think about. The text messages we exchanged throughout the day didn’t help matters. Now that we’d gotten past our initial hiccup, our texting had taken on a sizzling quality. I had quite the vivid imagination and Courtney had it working overtime.

Unfortunately my lack of concentration had carried over into basketball practice, earning me a chewing-out from Coach. That combined with a call from Dad had taken most of the wind from my sails. Having Court in my arms now made it all worth it. The feeling was foreign to me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked forward to any part of my day that didn’t involve basketball.

“Hey yourself,” she greeted me, breathing in a rush when I finally pulled back.

“I was thinking we could eat at this new steak restaurant I discovered a couple weeks ago.”

“That sounds good. I’m starving.”

“You don’t munch on food at work?”

“Sometimes, but usually I don’t have time. How was your day?”

“Okay,” I lied. I couldn’t muster up enough enthusiasm to sound convincing.

“Why does your ‘okay’ sound anything but okay?”

I smiled ruefully at her insightfulness but didn’t answer. Lacing my fingers through hers, I changed the subject by asking about her day. I could tell she knew what I was doing but went along with it anyway. I would deal with my problems later.

Courtney seemed quite taken by the dim lighting and intimate feel of the restaurant. My hand found the small of her back as the waitress led us to a table in a secluded corner, adding to the ambience.

We sat across from each other while the hostess placed menus in front of us. Reaching under the table to adjust my jeans, I found Courtney’s knee, making her gasp when I gave it a squeeze.

“Uh, enjoy,” the hostess remarked, giving Courtney a sideways glance before walking away.

“Nice, creep,” Courtney choked out as my hand slowly moved up past her knee.

“Very nice,” I said. She reached under the table, squeezing my hand in a death grip.

“Be good,” she murmured. “You don’t have to move it all the way off,” she added when I pulled my hand away. Courtney was cool as a cucumber, looking up to smile at the approaching waitress.

The tone of her voice indicated she had enjoyed my hand on her leg as much as I did. Maybe she wanted to continue what we had started at the winery the day before. My body responded immediately, urging me to move closer if not for the damned table. When I decided I wanted more than a friendship with her, I had no idea it would be me struggling to keep a clear head.

The entire meal felt like one long foreplay session. Courtney allowed my hand to remain on her thigh while she tortured me with the look in her eyes. Without saying a word she had me more turned on than I’d ever been in my life.

“Is everything okay?” the waitress asked, bringing Courtney another Diet Coke.

“What’s that?” I asked. Her question caught me off guard. For a second, it seemed like she had read my mind.

“Is the steak cooked correctly?” She pointed to my plate. I hadn’t even noticed that I had barely touched my food.

“Oh no. I mean, it’s fine. I just wasn’t as hungry as I thought. Can we get the check, though?”

Courtney laughed at my expense, watching the waitress, who looked at us like we were drunk.

Neither of us spoke as I drove away from the restaurant, but there was a clear sense of anticipation in the air.

I didn’t help matters during the drive back to her house. My hand never stopped touching her. It seemed to have a mind of its own as my fingers stroked up and down her thigh. I had to bite back a groan when she instinctively parted her legs, giving me better access to her inner thigh. I almost ran off the road. By the time I pulled into her driveway behind Lucy, I was so turned on I was almost in pain.

Courtney must have felt the same since we both practically jumped from the car at the same time. The porch light loomed in front of us.

“You want to come in?” she asked with her hand on the door like she already knew the answer.

“You sure?” It pained me to do so, but I gave her an out.

She nodded with a finger to her lips. Taking her lead, I followed her to her bedroom, softly closing her door behind me. Her room was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the partially open curtains. It took my eyes a moment to adjust before I spotted Courtney standing next to her bed. She looked self-conscious, making me feel a little like an ass. I knew what a leap of faith it was for her to invite me in. Because of our past, she still seemed to be holding on to the notion that the two of us together would be a bad idea. She didn’t know how wrong she was about me, but I was on a mission to show her.

Originally I’d planned to play it cool and take things slow, but I had never expected what happened at the vineyard, or to be standing here now for that matter. Every signal she was sending me said that she wanted this to happen.

She stood nervously wrapping a lock of hair around her finger, waiting for me to make the first move. I closed the short distance between us without taking my eyes from hers. Without saying a word, I cupped her face and tilted it up toward me, moving slowly to ease her fears. Her lips parted with anticipation as I brought my mouth inches away from hers. She whimpered slightly. I smiled with satisfaction when she stood on her toes to close the distance between us. The moment my mouth met hers she knotted her hands in my hair. Her intent was clear. She wanted this as bad as me. Moving my hands to her waist, I lifted her off the floor as she wrapped her legs around me. I became instantly hard, rubbing against her thighs. She moaned as my hands found her ass once again before I lowered her back to the floor.

Without breaking eye contact, I reached for the hem of her sweater, lifting slowly as she raised her arms. The sweater slid effortlessly over her head and dropped to the floor. She reached forward and I watched as she seductively unclasped my jeans and then invited me to return the favor. Grasping her jeans and barely there panties together, I shimmied them down her hips until they rested at her feet. She kicked them off while she lifted my shirt as far as she could reach, and then planted a string of kisses along my abdomen, causing me to moan as I yanked the shirt over my head.

Reaching a hand behind her back, she unclasped her bra, exposing her full spectacular breasts. I honestly didn’t remember taking my pants off after that, but somehow they ended up in a pile on the floor. A smile rose from her lips like she knew what I was thinking. Grabbing my hand, she guided me to her bed. That was the last time she led that night.

The moment we hit the mattress, I took control, exploring every inch of her body with my hands and mouth, smiling with satisfaction when she arched her back after I tugged hard on her nipple with my mouth. My free hand moved between her thighs, where she was wet and ready. Her knees fell apart as my finger stroked her light hair before slipping inside the dampness. Her moan smothered into my shoulder as my tongue continued to swirl around her nipple, moving at the same pace as my finger buried deep inside her. Her hips moved against my hand. I knew I had her on the verge of climax, so I gently tugged on her nipple with my mouth to help her get there. She responded by moving her hips faster and burying her hands in my hair, pulling me tightly against her breast. Before she could finish, I left her tantalizing nipple and moved to her mouth. My tongue found hers and she whimpered with need before shuddering in my arms.

She was still shaking when I rolled on a condom before entering her in one swift movement. I slid in easily, rocking against her as she worked to remain quiet so her roommates wouldn’t hear us. I wanted badly to prolong the moment, but all the foreplay wouldn’t allow me to stretch it out. I was ready to explode. After a few thrusts against her, I finished harder than I ever had. I collapsed, taking care not to crush her.

Her eyes slid closed as she collected her breath. “Well, that was something.”

“You can say that again,” I panted, resting my forehead against hers. “I feel like I just ran an hour of stair drills.”

“I’ll take another something, please.” Her words made me laugh and did interesting things to our bodies that were still locked together.

* * *

I woke up early the next morning since I had practice. The way Courtney looked wrapped in the sheets, I was tempted to skip it and give us both a pleasant morning instead. Reluctantly I forced myself to leave. If I missed a practice, shit would really hit the fan.

The last thing I needed was to give Dad another reason to ream my ass. I was still feeling the sting from being chewed out over the heart on my face.

“This is your year, Dalton. Everything we worked for is within our grasp. No NBA team is going to take you seriously if you don’t stop dicking around.”

“Don’t you mean everything I worked for?” I rarely spoke up when Dad was giving me shit, but after ten years of hearing it, I was pissed off.

“You don’t think everything I’ve done for you has been work? All the practices, A.A.U. tournaments, staying on top of the coaches, making sure the recruiters knew about you. You think you’d be where you are if it wasn’t for me? I’ll be damned if you’re going to waste the talent we spent all these years building.”

This was the extent of our conversations anymore. He was the reason Courtney and I had stopped being friends when we were twelve. He’d called me a fairy boy, because my best friend was a girl. He pulled me away from her and made sure all my spare time was spent on basketball. I thought once I got into Michigan he’d get off my ass once and for all. I should have known better. Now it was all about the NBA.

That was still my dream regardless of Dad’s bullshit, but at times I hated it all. I could walk away, but what would that solve? That was why I enjoyed the junior summer clinics I had taught for the past few years. It drove him absolutely nuts that I would “waste my time,” as he would say, but it was how I stayed connected with what I truly enjoyed about playing basketball. For the kids I coached, it was still a game. Not the business it had become for me.

With one last longing look at Courtney, who had fallen back to sleep, I crept from the house. The only thing keeping me going was that I’d be seeing her again later that night.

As luck would have it, I didn’t get to see her again that night or the rest of the week. Our crazy schedules made meeting up damned near impossible. Between classes, her job, and basketball practice, I was becoming increasingly annoyed. I was tempted to duck out of practice, but Coach would send out a search party and then have my head. Especially since we had the conference tournament ahead of us. My concentration was a mess. All I wanted to do was be with Courtney. Instead I was at practice going through endless drills I could do in my sleep, and yet I also felt like I was letting the team down. They expected my leadership, and my focus was elsewhere.

Courtney didn’t complain about our lack of time together nearly as much as I did. She reassured me that once the season ended, we’d have plenty of time to connect. In the meantime, we made do with endless text messages. I planned on hanging out at Gruby’s on Thursday night while she worked, but with more practices and team meetings, I just couldn’t find the time.

Friday, I was on a charter bus for the two-hour drive to Indianapolis for the conference tournament. The only solace I found was in Courtney’s text messages.

You’ve only been gone for an hour and I miss you already.

Not half as much as I miss you.

I wouldn’t bet on it.

How was work?

Slow tip day.

That sucks.

That’s all right. We’ll be busy for your game.

U work too hard.

Such is the life of a poor college student.

If I was already playing in the NBA, U wouldn’t have to work another day. The text was intended as a joke, but as soon as I hit SEND, I regretted it. We’d only been together for a week. Knowing how skittish Courtney was, I figured a text like that could send her running for cover. I was in the process of typing that I was joking when she sent a reply.

I’m sure you’ll have a whole harem of women to take care of by then. I better not quit my day job.

Obviously she was kidding, but with all the pressure I’d been feeling, it annoyed me. For whatever reason, she still doubted that I could be exclusive. Our relationship was still new, but I wondered how long I would have to work to earn her trust. To make her realize that what I felt for her was special. Somehow I would have to show her. Mom always said actions spoke a thousand words or some bullshit like that. That definitely applied to me and Courtney. I changed the topic and we continued to text for another half hour until it was time for her to get ready for work.

I didn’t get a chance to text her the next day since practice bled into some media obligations and then pregame preparations. The team hit the court and as I made my way through warm-up drills, I wondered if Courtney would be watching the game at Gruby’s.

“Dalton,” a loud voice boomed behind me. I turned to see Dad standing near the bench. He clapped his hands, urging me to focus.

“Come on, Dalton, this is your night,” Coach Riley yelled from under the basket.

“I’m cool, Coach.” I launched toward the rim, spinning into a reverse dunk for good measure, which elicited a few cheers from the crowd.

Maybe it was fate, or then again, it could have just been me dragging ass, but the first quarter of the game wasn’t my best effort. The second quarter wasn’t much better. I was laying up enough bricks to build a house. At halftime, I got my ass handed to me by Coach, who reminded me I wasn’t an NBA star yet and I’d better get to work. Collin shot me a knowing look but kept his mouth shut.

The second half went much better as I stepped up my game. That was why I was so successful. I refused to lose. The team jumped on my shoulders as I drained four buckets in a row, pushing us past the opposing team we’d been trailing the entire night.

In the end, the game came down to my final shot. For an instant, I was afraid it wouldn’t fall. The ball circled the outer edge of the rim, teasing me and the onlooking fans who waited on the edges of their seats. With one final rotation, the ball rolled inward through the net. The rest of the team erupted off the bench as the cheerleaders jumped up and down in celebration.

The players clapped me on the back, waving towels in the air. Looking up in the stands, I could see Dad’s frown from where I stood.

chapter eleven

Courtney

My stomach was in my throat the entire time I watched the game. Dalton was having an off night. My chest pinched uncomfortably each time he missed a shot. Watching the game surrounded by groaning fans made the experience even harder. I knew how important basketball was to Dalton and I found myself silently cheering him on. The second half of the game he seemed to come alive and they were able to pull ahead of the other team. The noise level in Gruby’s went up to a whole new level as the restaurant erupted with cheers with each basket. In the end, the last shot was up to Dalton. We all waited with bated breath as the ball slowly circled the rim before sliding through the net. Everyone in the restaurant roared with approval.

Amanda gave me a crushing hug as she jumped up and down with excitement. My own happiness waned when I saw the dejected look on Dalton’s face on the big screen. He was being interviewed on the crowded court by the sideline reporter, but he didn’t look as happy as you would think he’d be. His shoulders slumped and his face was completely defeated as the camera showed him jogging off toward the locker room. It was obvious something was wrong.

I had to fight the urge to grab my phone from my pocket. Even if I called to check on him, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. His phone would likely be turned off. Besides, I wasn’t sure he would want to hear from me. Maybe our relationship hadn’t reached that point. Things were moving fast for us, but we’d only had three dates and one night of unforgettable sex. Technically we’d only been together a few weeks. I figured I’d just call him later after my shift was over.

The rest of my shift felt like I was walking underwater as the night dragged. The clock seemed to taunt me with each hour passing in slow motion. My nerves were stretched to the limit as the look on Dalton’s face kept flashing in my head. It was killing me not knowing what was wrong. I was sure it was just game stuff, but they’d still won. My hand closed around my cell phone for about the hundredth time since the game ended, but I forced myself to drop it back in my pocket. I would wait.

Closing duties were like an exercise in hell. I couldn’t seem to do anything right. Like spilling water all over the entryway carpet when the wheel on the mop bucket got stuck, or dumping an entire tray of premade burgers on the floor as I was trying to slide them into the industrial-sized refrigerator. By the time Amanda and I left, I was in a foul mood and anxious to drop her off so I could finally call Dalton.

I was dialing his number before Amanda had even closed the car door. I bit back a groan of dismay when it went straight to voice mail. “Shit,” I muttered to my empty car.

I stepped on the gas a little too hard, spinning out as I pulled away from Amanda’s dorm. I called Dalton again once I got home. It went right to voice mail. Fifteen minutes later, voice mail again. I lay on my bed and typed a frustrated text message, telling him to call me when he got a chance.

The next morning, I woke to find my message hadn’t been returned. No missed calls or voice mails, either. More than a little disappointed, I tossed my phone aside and climbed from bed. A burst of energy had me stripping my bed before heading to the laundry room with an armful of linens. Once the sheets were in the wash, I headed back to my room and gave it a whirlwind cleaning. I needed something to keep my mind occupied.

After changing out of my pajamas, I tried to call Dalton again with the same result as the night before. I sent him another text message before leaving my clean room behind. The nagging thoughts creeping into my head were beginning to frustrate me. I did my best to ignore them, heading to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before going over to Mom’s for the day. Honestly it probably wasn’t fair to think Dalton could be giving me the brush-off once again. I was freaking out over one night of unanswered calls and text messages. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

The kitchen was noisy and crowded when I entered, tempting me to hit a drive-through instead. It was great that Indy and Misha were both in love, but seeing them wrapped around their guys first thing in the morning after the sleepless night I’d had wasn’t all that appealing. Kier gave me a nod, looking uncomfortable amidst the chaos. In the small amount of time I’d spent with him, I had discovered he was quiet and not overly comfortable in loud settings. I smiled at him sympathetically before grabbing a package of Pop-Tarts and heading back to my room.

“Hey, where are you going?” Misha called after me. “Darryn decided to cook us all breakfast. Isn’t he a sweetie?” she asked, patting Darryn’s butt.

I snorted at her term of endearment. Darryn was known for being a badass and had even been thrown out of his last place for fighting, but he was downright docile in Misha’s hands. At the moment, it was just too mushy for my stomach to handle.

“Wait, I thought I was just making breakfast for you,” he joked, pulling Misha in close.

Chloe and I exchanged looks. They had it bad.

“Shoot. I’d like to stay, but my mom is expecting me.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Mom was expecting me, just not this early. Edging out of the kitchen, I made my escape, breathing a sigh of relief as I closed the front door behind me. I really was happy for my roommates, but at the moment I had too much drama going on in my head.

Mom was still in her pj’s reading the paper when I arrived at her apartment forty minutes later. She was the only person I knew who still had the Sunday paper delivered to her house. I found her sitting on her living room couch with her legs folded up under her while she sipped her coffee.

“Hey, you’re early,” she said as I bent down to give her a hug.

“Things were a little crowded at Hamilton House this morning.” I pulled off my jacket and tossed it on the recliner. Mom raised her eyebrows. I knew what that meant. Sighing, I picked up the jacket and walked to the closet to hang it up. Even now that I was an adult, one of Mom’s looks still got me to jump into action.

Once my coat was stowed away to her satisfaction, I joined Mom on the couch and grabbed the sales ads. Not that I was a big shopper, but I liked to skim through each one. One of these days I wouldn’t be a poor college student anymore, and hopefully would have the money to actually buy something frivolous. That was if I could find work after graduation. I had this terrible fear that I would finish school only to discover there were no jobs available. I was forever second-guessing my major. Art history was a narrow field, to say the least.

Mom left me to my reading for a few minutes before playing the mom card. “So, who do I need to hurt?” She set her empty coffee mug on the table.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. I buried my face in the newspaper. Mom always had the uncanny knack of being able to read me. She said I was like an open book and she could see my every feeling as if they were words on a page.

I sat stoically silent, willing myself to remain strong. As long as I used the paper as a shield, she wouldn’t be able to see my face. The silence stretched on, and finally I couldn’t resist peeking over the newspaper to see if she’d given up. It was a classic mistake that had bitten me in the butt numerous times growing up. I should have known. Mom never gave up. Lowering the paper, I found her eyes on mine.

I made a production of dramatically sighing and folding the paper before answering. “It’s no big deal.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t be keeping it from me.” That was her mom wisdom in action. There was no arguing with her reasoning.

“I’m a little confused,” I finally muttered, getting up to grab a Coke from the refrigerator.

She waited until I returned with my soda before asking. “About what?”

Her question was simple enough, but it opened the floodgates. Before I knew it, I was pouring out every detail to her: Dalton’s sudden interest, the text messages, the heart on his cheek that had earned him a date in the first place, and finally the look on his face after last night’s game and how he wasn’t returning my calls or messages. I didn’t mention that I had slept with him, and luckily she didn’t ask. I expected her typical parental advice about how we all learn from our mistakes, but she surprised me.

“There may be a simple explanation for what’s going on. I would wait until he calls before making any snap decisions.”

I looked at her incredulously. It wasn’t like she was a man-hater, but she’d always kept the guys she dated at arm’s length.

“What if he doesn’t call?” I asked, voicing my worst fear. “He did it before.”

“Oh, sweetie, he was just a boy back then. If I can bestow any of my wisdom onto you, I would encourage you to be patient. There might be things going on with him that you don’t know about. After your father, I always assumed every man would hurt me like he had. When any relationship after that would encounter a bump, I would walk away without a backward glance. I thought it was the only way to protect myself from getting hurt again. The older I get, the more I see the mistakes I’ve made. Not only did I push away a few promising relationships, but I also passed my distrust of men onto you. You’re young, and yet I already see you acting under the same assumptions I did.”

I couldn’t believe the words pouring out of her mouth. All my life I thought she was so strong the way she would see through the men who tried to hurt her. To hear her take responsibility felt wrong. She was just trying to protect her heart. How could she blame herself for that?

“You were always so strong.”

“Honey, I wasn’t strong. I was scared. Too terrified to give my heart to anyone after your father broke it. Now I’m a lonely old woman who wonders what I could have had if only I’d allowed myself to trust someone. I’m happy enough, but I feel like I missed the boat. You understand what I mean?”

“You’re not old,” I argued, moving to the couch to hold her hand.

“I feel old. But sometimes I’m just downright lonely.”

My heart ached at her words. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t realize you were lonely. I can come over more often. We’ll do more stuff,” I said as her eyes filled with tears.

“Sweetie, you’ve always been so good to me. I treasure every moment we spend together, but I know you’re busy with school and work. Besides, this kind of loneliness is different. I ache for companionship.”

I silently gnawed on her words. In a million years, I never would have expected to hear that kind of admission from her. I’d always admired Mom for her strong sense of independence. I wanted to be like her. Now I found myself reeling, not knowing what to believe.

She changed the subject, and for the rest of the afternoon we continued to chat like we did every Sunday, but we stayed away from the sticky subject of relationships. Only when I was pulling on my jacket to leave did she tell me to take her words to heart.

The next day Dalton still hadn’t called or texted. My doubts increased. Despite Mom’s big revelation, I was starting to think my instincts were right. Dalton had got what he wanted from me and he had moved on. I ended up skipping classes that morning and moping around the house.

I was debating watching a House Hunters marathon or taking a nap when my phone finally chimed. I nearly dropped it in my haste to answer when I saw Dalton’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello,” I answered. My voice was harsher than I intended.

“Courtney?”

“I see you found your phone again.” The sarcastic reply tumbled from my mouth before I could even think of retracting it.

I heard him sigh over the phone before he answered, “I’m sorry about that, Court. I know in light of our history that didn’t come off well.”

His voice sounded defeated and my sudden flare of anger completely dissipated. “What’s going on, Dalton?”

He hesitated, exhaling deeply before answering, “Just a bunch of crap.”

“With the team?” I sat on the edge of the couch on pins and needles waiting for him to get to the point.

“Nah, I wish. This is the same shit I’ve been dealing with for years. I guess you could say it finally came to a head.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” My heart was starting to ache from the pain I could hear in his voice.

“You’re doing it, babe. Just talking to you makes me feel so much better.”

“I wish I was there,” I said wistfully.

“Nah, you don’t. There’s nothing good about the place my mind is at right now. I would drag you down.”

“Dalton, can you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe talking about it will make it more manageable.”

He sighed again. “It’s just the same old family drama, trying to live up to the expectations of my asshole father.”

“You’re kidding, right? Your dad’s a sports guy. Aren’t you like a sports dad’s wet dream? Excuse me for putting it that way, but how the hell could you not be living up to his expectations?”

He chuckled wryly. “Shit, now I do wish you were here. I like hearing you all fired up. I bet you look seriously adorable right now, all ferocious.” He sounded marginally happier. “My father’s just always demanded the best from me. Sometimes I think he wants my basketball career more than I do. Every once in a while I get sick of hearing his shit. That’s basically what happened this weekend, but times ten.” His voice trailed off.

“What happened?” I was sure I sounded pushy, coaxing him along, but I wanted him to continue opening up to me.

“I pretty much told him to fuck off.”

“Wow.”

“I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve got enough going on in my head with the tournament without him coming to my room to tell me I’m fucking up by obsessing over some girl who means nothing. I lost it. I swear I wanted to rip his head off. Collin talked me down, but in the end I told him I was done with his abuse, that I was done with basketball. Coach Riley showed up. It turned into a whole thing.”

“No,” I gasped. I couldn’t believe things could escalate to that point. To think Dalton would be willing to walk away from basketball.

“I meant it. I’ll finish out the season, but I’m done trying to carry his dreams. It’s stopped being fun.”

“It could still be fun, Dalton,” I said. “If your dad would take your not so subtle hint and back off, maybe you could start to enjoy the game again. And I’ll be there, cheering you along.”

“You will? I was worried you wouldn’t forgive me for not calling. I just couldn’t until I got my shit together. My head has been seriously messed up the last few days. I’m sorry for doing that to you, babe.”

“Dalton, I understand. You don’t have to apologize. Want to know the truth? I had my doubts, but that’s my lame-ass insecurities.”

“Damn, I got to go. Coach is calling me.”

“Go. Call me when you get a chance. And, Dalton?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be watching you tonight. I expect to see you enjoying the moment. And kicking some ass.”

He laughed. “You know it, babe.” He went silent, making me think he’d hung up already.

“Courtney?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

* * *

“Hey, girl. Why aren’t you answering your messages?” Amanda demanded to know when she showed up for her shift.