So I ran back to the kitchen, yelling over my shoulder, “Be right back with your toast!”
But I couldn’t linger because Gwen already had the toast up in the passthrough.
Yay.
I dimly heard the cowbell over the door clank as I grabbed the toast and slow walked it back to the counter. “Two orders of sourdough. Can I get you guys anything else? More jelly? Napkins?”
“We’re good,” Bob muttered in between shovels of food to his face.
Hunter frowned, watching me. “Are you good, Em? You’re kinda…”
“Yup, I’m good.” I gritted my teeth. “All good.”
Then I stood there like a lingering weirdo.
After one more concerned look from Hunter, he picked up his fork and dug into his breakfast. It took another minute for me to realize what a weirdo I was being, but it goosed me into action. I literally jumped, then laughed softly at myself.
The cowbell at the door clanked again as a few more guys came in. They hollered greetings at me, Bob, and Hunter before bellying up next to the guys at the counter.
“I’ll be right with you guys…” My voice trailed off. I’d just looked at my mystery guy’s table in the back corner.
Only, now the booth was empty, and a pile of crisp bills sat between their mostly empty plates.
I’d lost my chance to flirt. Nothing would’ve come of it, they were no doubt just passing through, but still, it would’ve been nice.
My eyes filled with tears when I realized that the top bill on the table was a hundred. I picked it up and then stared down at the other bills in disbelief.
They wereallhundred-dollar bills.
They’d paid me five hundred dollars for a thirty-dollar check.
“Emma? Can we order?” Andy yelled from the counter. “I’m starving.”
I blinked away the tears, shoved the money into my half apron, and grabbed the dirty dishes. “Coming!”
Chapter 2
I didn’t have many friends left in Astoria. My crew in high school had spread far and wide after graduation. Some went away to college and never really came back. Others went to the city and came back on weekends and holidays, making me very aware of my sad existence. They didn’t rub it in my face, but it was obvious they’d moved on and made something of their lives. Meanwhile, I was living above my stepmother’s garage in an excuse for an apartment and working endless shifts in my dead dad’s diner.
“Let’s face it, Bruno,” I told my dad’s ancient bloodhound as I ran a hand over his wiry hair. “I think this might be all that my life’s going to be. And isn’t that just kinda sad?”
His tail thumped against the couch in response. He couldn’t even be bothered to lift his head to lick my hand.
My heart lurched at his lazy reaction. Bruno just hadn’t been the same since my dad passed away last year. It felt like he’d lost his person…and maybe his reason to live.
Tears stung my eyes at the thought of losing another loved one soon. Bruno had been my buddy for years. Long before Lydia had come onto the scene.
But like me, he’d been relegated to this “apartment.”
If I had a dollar for every time Lydia had bemoaned his presence.
“Dogs are too dirty.”
“We should rehome him.”
“He keeps antagonizing my beloved Lucy.”
I hated that stupid cat. The number of times I’d caught that monster batting at poor Bruno’s face—unprovoked—was ridiculous. But Lucy could wail at will like she was being skinned. So unnerving.
