Sal’s booming voice shattered the stillness. “BRYN!”
I snapped out of my daze, mortified. I’d been staring at him like an idiot. I flashed an awkward smile, said nothing, and quickly walked to the counter.
“Is it really necessary toshoutacross the diner?” I hissed, my voice loud enough to sting, but still trying to keep it as quiet as possible.
He sneered, dragging a hand through his greasy hair, leaving it sticking up in clumps. The sharp stench of sweat and cheap cologne hit me like a wall. “What, did I make you blush in front of your new friend?”
For a second, I hesitated.Had I?Heat crept up my neck, but that didn’t mean anything. It was just the stuffy diner. Nothing more. Sal was fishing, like always. I wasn’t going to bite.
I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “What do you want, Sal?”
He propped an elbow on the counter, smug as ever. “Just making sure you’re not neglecting your other customers.”
I glanced around the empty diner, my gaze sweeping over the vacant seats before locking onto him again. “Are we serving imaginary people now? He’s the only one here.”
He shot a quick glance at Ezekiel’s table, then chuckled, the sound low and almost amused. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I was over it. He was just trying to get under my skin. And honestly? A hit on him didn’t sound so bad. It would definitely solve a lot of my problems. Okay, okay, I’m joking…
Mostly.
I headed back to Ezekiel’s table and casually placed the bill in front of him. “Here you go. No rush.”
He dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed me his black American Express. “I should probably get going, anyway.”
I tucked the card into my apron and gave him a quick nod. “No worries. Just give me a sec to grab your receipt.”
Once the transaction was wrapped up, I made my way back to his table. He was already standing,so I picked up the pace. “Here you go, sir. Just need your signature, and you’re all set.”
He pulled a sleek pen from his pocket, dark wood with an intricate engraving I couldn’t quite make out. Even his pens were fancy. With a quick flick, he signed and handed the receipt back.
I noticed how effortless he made everything seem, like he was used to being the center of attention, and somehow, it was working. He had that kind of presence that drew people in without trying too hard. I caught myself wondering if that was the effect he had on everyone—or if it was just me.
“Considering we keep running into each other, we might as well be on a first-name basis. I’m Zeke,” he said, extending his hand with a grin that flashed a bright, toothy smile. It was nearly blinding.
I froze.
Zeke.
The name stirred something inside me, a faint echo from somewhere. Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just that it sounded too familiar—like a name I should know. I shook off the feeling, reminding myself this was just another polite exchange.
“Alright then, Zeke. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day,” I replied, shaking his hand. A flash of warmth shot through me at the contact, like an unexpected spark, but I kept my grip steady, matching his ease.
He gave a brief nod, his expression neutral. “You too, Bryn. Until next time.”
As the door swung shut behind him, my eyes caught a green corner of paper peeking from under the syrup basket. My heart skipped a beat. I pulled out another hefty $200 tip. Stunned, I felt a rush of excitement surge through me. At this point, I didn’t care if Zeke was a high-stakes operative or a saint. He was welcome to sit at my table anytime.
I slipped the bills into my apron pocket, savoring the satisfying crinkle. With renewed energy, I returned to my spot at the counter, my crossword puzzle waiting like an old friend.
six
After a marathon of back-to-back workdays, I was ecstatic to finally have a day off. With the cash I’d accumulated from Zeke’s generous tips, plus a little extra savings, I was eager to treat myself to something special.
The afternoon was mine to savor, and I reveled in the slow pace, meandering through thrift stores in search of hidden gems. But I couldn’t resist popping into Charla Mae’s, if only to indulge my senses and maybe find a small luxury that wouldn’t break the bank.
The moment I pushed through the door, warm golden light wrapped around me, a stark contrast to the faded, dusty storefronts I’d visited all day. The pristine interior felt like a breath of fresh air, a welcome reprieve from the stench of second-hand smoke and stale fabrics that had clung to me all morning. The air was rich with the faint, sweet aroma of lavender and sandalwood, mingling with the subtle scent of leather and freshly pressed linens. The soft rustle of silk, the delicate undertone of perfume, and the hum of ambient music combined to create an atmosphere of understated luxury.
A sense of liberation rushed over me as I wandered through the open space, the chaos of typical shopping trips now a distant memory. My eyes drank in the minimalist décor and sleek displays, each one soothing my frazzled nerves like a gentle lullaby.
