Elijah stared back a long moment, then nodded and turned away. “I tried to tell him that you guys wouldn’t need to do something like that: lots of hot chicks hang out with y’all anyway. Not like you’d need to kidnap somebody.”
Carter smiled, wryly.
“And there’s something my dad says,” Elijah continued, tone shifting, growing more serious. “If somebody’s spending all their time pointing fingers at someone, it’s the guy with the finger who actually did it.”
Seventeen
“I keep telling myself I’m gonna go to the store, buy real food, and cook myself dinner,” Leah swore as her dad set a plate in front of her. It was nothing fancy, just a club sandwich and a small bag of chips, but it beat going home and turning on the stove.
“What’s the point in having a restaurant if you can’t feed your own kid out of it?” he asked with a wink, and rested a hand on the chair opposite her own. “What about your coworkers? Are they nice, or are they assholes?” He’d been grilling her about her first day for ten solid minutes, from the moment she’d walked into the door, and all through making her sandwich and decaf.
“They’re all very nice,” she said. “There’s Gabe, and Rochelle, and Isobel, and all of them are lovely.”
“Lovely could mean anything,” he griped.
“Yeah, but in this case, it means they respect breakroom fridge etiquette, and they don’t talk obnoxiously loud on their phones. They’d ordered a cake, Dad, with my name on it and everything, to welcome me on my first day.”
“That’s overkill.”
“And you’re a sourpuss,” she proclaimed, and took a bite of sandwich to lay the point to rest.
He snorted. “Did you see the boss man today? Mr. Fancy Pants?”
“No.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and reached for her coffee. “Rochelle said he hardly ever stops on our floor.”
“Not fancy enough, probably.”
“Dad, you’ve never even seen him. How can you have an opinion about his level of fanciness?”
“Ava said he was fancy, and I trust Ava.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God.”
He glanced up as a new customer entered, and she saw his jaw get tight, that Marine look stealing over his face – there was no such thing as an ex-Marine, after all. “Your boyfriend’s here.”
She nearly choked on the bite she’d just taken. “My what?”
A glance proved that Carter was walking across the shop – or, had been, before her dad’s look brought him up short. He glanced uncertainly between her and her dad. “Um…”
“It’s fine, Carter,” she said, motioning toward the counter. “He doesn’t bite.”
To her dad, after Carter had skirted around him and headed for the counter: “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Then why’s he coming in here all the time now?”
“Are you going to turn away a paying customer?”
He folded his arms. “I am if he’s got ill-intentions toward my daughter.”
The statement deserved such a dramatic eye-roll, she decided not to attempt it and risk pulling something. “I’m the last person on earth Carter Michaels is interested in romantically. But we are friends, and have been for years. Plus, I’m almost thirty: the dad-with-a-shotgun routine isn’t cute anymore.”
He grumbled, but pushed off and returned to the counter. She watched him go, ready to interfere if he said anything to Carter; but he didn’t. Went over to the cappuccino machine and let Noelle fill Carter’s order.
That look, though, had caused some doubt. Carter stood with his wrapped sandwich and a green tea after he turned away from the counter, surveying the tables – few of which were available – and darting Leah a questioning glance.
She waved him over. “Pleaseignore my dad. He’s regressing, apparently.”
“I heard that!” Marshall called from behind the counter.
