Page 103 of Escorting the Mogul
“Yeah… maybe.” I snuggled against him, relishing his warmth. I didn’t want to think about anything other than being with him at that moment because, really, it was all I had.
“Do you want to get some breakfast?”
I grinned. “I’d love to.”
“Great, I know a place.” We said goodbye to the seals and headed back down the sidewalk. Cole took a right and led me into the Leather District, where a few nightclubs, furniture stores, and upscale private residences lined the streets.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re almost there. Come on.” We stopped about two blocks away at a little diner I’d never seen before.Dinky’s, the sign read.
I peered through the dirty window and raised my eyebrows at Cole. “You’re taking me to Dinky’s Diner?” I asked. “Doesn’t really seem like a place for billionaires.”
“Wait until you try the home fries.” Cole opened the door for us, and a tiny, wizened old man whooped from behind the counter.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” the man yelled. “I thought you’d gotten too big for your britches and forgotten all about us!”
“No way, Dinky. How could I forget about you? This is Jenny, by the way. She’s never eaten here before.”
“She’s in for a treat.” He puffed out his chest. “Two specials?”
“Sound great,” Cole said. “Can we take a booth?”
“Sure thing, kid.” Dinky seemed to perform ten tasks at once. He refilled coffees for the customers sitting at the counter,poured us two glasses of water, brought us place settings, and fired up his grill.
Dinky’s was sparsely furnished. It had an immaculate white floor, frayed red plastic booths, and a framed picture of Big Papi on the wall. “How’d you find this place?” I asked Cole.
“Dinky’s been here forever,” he said. “My mom used to work here on the weekends when she was in college. She brought me here once when I was a little kid, and I never forgot it.”
My heart melted. Cole didn’t talk about his mom much, just that she’d passed away when he was young. “Aw. That’s nice.”
He nodded but didn’t say more. He did, however, reach across the table and squeeze my hand. Sometimes, people said things without saying anything.
I squeezed his hand back.
At that moment, Dinky delivered our food. Scrambled eggs, buttered white toast, and a pile of crunchy-looking hash browns beckoned from our plates. “This looks perfect,” I said and dug in.
Cole took a large bite of hash browns and moaned. When he finished chewing, he gave Dinky a thumbs-up. “Doesn’t get any better than this,” he said.
I forked some and tried them myself. Flavor exploded into my mouth, comforting, savory, warm, and the perfect texture. It was like eating a potato breakfast hug. “Ho my frickin’ God, why are these hash browns so good? They’re magic!”
Dinky gave us a chef’s kiss from behind the counter. “It’s my secret recipe. Works every time!”
We cleaned our plates. Cole tipped Dinky generously, but the old man waved it away. “I don’t want your money! Just come back with the pretty lady again real soon.” We promised, thanked him, and headed back out to the bright, warm day.
“That was awesome,” I said. “Bonus points because there wasn’t any micro-basil or avocado ice cream.” I made a gagging face.
“Ha, I knew you’d like Dinky’s.” Cole threw his arm around my shoulder again. The easy camaraderie was back between us as though it had never left. The coldness between us, the awkwardness when I first returned—all that felt like it had happened to somebody else.
“I loved it,” I said.
And Dinky’s wasn’t the only thing that I loved.
COLE
“Next stop, the Waterfront District,”I said, pretending I was talking into a microphone.
“Are we going home?” Jenny asked.
