Free Alligators in the Trees by Cynthia Hamilton

and rearrange the salt and pepper shakers, replaying their brief conversations in her head. She had to admit that coming in such close contact with her girlhood idol was an unexpected perk of working for Frank.
    She picked up the check with the ten-dollar bill on it, and after pocketing the other ten, took the check to the register to ring it up. His check had barely exceeded seven dollars, so she had almost another three bucks to add to her kitty. Not a bad take. Too bad all her customers weren’t so generous. It sure would make her job more bearable if they were.
    She grabbed a clean rag and headed for Phil’s table. Breaking his custom, Phil had placed his daily tip not in the folded placemat, but under the water glass. The placemat was folded in half as usual, with the predictable inscription on the outside. Puzzled by his breach of protocol, Priscilla cautiously opened the placemat, leaving it on the table as she examined it.
    What she found inside was a caricature easily identified as Philip, proposing various possible outings for the two of them. All around the centrally placed figure, he had sketched out his suggestions: the zoo, complete with monkeys swinging in trees; a movie theater; a pizza parlor; a walk in the park; and a visit to the Statue of Liberty. Across the top, he had written:
    The purpose of this is not to ask you out on a date, but rather to extend an invitation to you to accompany me—strictly as a friend—to any venue depicted here, or any other place you might have in mind. And since I’m not asking you on a date, you are under no pressure to give me an answer. Just keep my offer—and my number—in the back of your mind, and should you ever have need of a little non-threatening company, give me a call. Yours sincerely, Philip
    Priscilla closed the placemat and looked up to see if anyone had been watching her. She knew this turn of events had been inevitable, so why had it come as such an unwelcome surprise? She snatched the twenty from under the water glass and shoved it into her apron pocket. Well, she knew it would come to an end sooner or later, and she really had had an amazing run with Phil—thirty-three hundred bucks worth, to be exact. So why did she feel so let down?
    Priscilla finished out her day in a daze. She didn’t know how the totally uncomplicated job of being a waitress in a coffee shop could become so confusing. Why, for example, did Philip—she didn’t even know his last name—suddenly materialize eight months ago, only to spoil her with outrageous gratuities and undeserved admiration? What made him think she’d have any interest in dating one of her patrons, or more to the point, what made him remotely interested in someone like her?
    As if all that wasn’t perplexing enough, she now had the sneaking suspicion that something was up with Tobias Jordan, reclusive rock star extraordinaire. One day he looks as if he wants to rip her head off, the very next day he’s back, all smiles. It didn’t make sense.
    Priscilla shivered all the way home, for the warm, beautiful spring-like weather had retreated, along with all semblance of sanity. Nothing made sense anymore, not even the stuff that was too banal to matter.

Six
    Tobias paced in front of Brody’s building for fifteen minutes before his partner showed up. He could have waited in the lobby, but he was too keyed up to just sit there. He should have known that Brody would dawdle, if for no other reason than to pay him back for failing to show up for several studio sessions. It was just like Brody to seek retribution rather than make the most of their opportunity. He always was the petty one.
    Tobias was about ready to walk away from the whole idea of reviving their band when he spotted Brody’s lumbering frame on the opposite side of the street. During their hiatus, Brody had transformed his blubbery hulk into that of a muscle-bound fitness freak. And with the old physique went the sloppy, baggy clothes, the